When I awoke the next morning, I entered our rooms to find Holmes in conversation with Wiggins, a young street Arab and the de facto leader of Holmes’ so-called “Baker Street Irregulars.”
“How you handle it is up to you,” Holmes told the boy.
“Righto, guv’nor.”
Holmes then gave the boy some coins, and said, “There’s double that if you are able to find out what I want to know.”
After the lad had departed, I looked at Holmes and said, “Pray tell what was that all about?”
“A minor matter,” replied my friend, “Nothing that you need concern yourself with.”
“Have you told Mrs. Hudson that you are expecting a visitor?”
“I have, and she insisted upon baking some fresh scones just in case Her Ladyship should desire a light repast with her tea.”
“Do you know that she will take tea?”
“No, but when I raised that exact point with Mrs. Hudson, she grew adamant. Rather than argue, I acquiesced.”
“You are learning, Holmes.”
The minutes crept by and at exactly one, a large Clarence pulled by four grand horses arrived in front of our lodgings, and Lady Judith Deveron emerged from the curtained carriage. A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Holmes rose to answer it.”
“Your Ladyship,” he said bowing slightly, “I trust you had a pleasant journey.”
“It was tolerable,” she replied, “but I didn’t come here to discuss the shortcomings of the British rail system, Mr. Holmes.”
Showing her to a seat, Holmes then pulled up a chair opposite her. He then said, “I see you are a very direct woman. How may I be of service?”
At that point, Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door and entered the room with a tray bearing tea and the freshly baked scones. She curtseyed to Lady Deveron and said, “I baked these fresh for you.”
After she had departed, Lady Deveron said, “I don’t think I can eat anything.”
“You must keep your strength up,” I admonished her, “and Mrs. Hudson’s scones are a rare treat indeed.”
She then took a single scone, and agreed to a cup of tea with just lemon.
“And now back to business,” said Holmes.
Her Ladyship started to speak and then gazed at me and then back a Holmes. “I assure you, Your Ladyship, that Dr. Watson is the very soul of discretion. Feel free to speak your mind.”
“Mr. Holmes, I read about that man Dalton, they arrested. Did he kill my son?”
“The papers believe that he did,” Holmes replied.
“And what do you believe?”
“I believe that the person or persons responsible for the murder of Lord Deveron may still be at large.”
“I knew it,” she said almost in a whisper.
“Will the police catch these people?” she asked.
“I possess some small degree of talent,” said Holmes, “but divining the future is one skill that I have not yet mastered.”
She looked at Holmes for a second and then said, “As you might expect, thus far I have found the police lacking.”
When neither of us responded, she continued, “May I ask your opinion Mr. Holmes?”
“By all means.”
“Do you think if I offered a reward for information it might help?”
“Well, it certainly couldn’t hurt,” replied Holmes evenly. “In my experience, honor among thieves is more myth than reality.”
“Then I shall do it,” she replied. “I cannot continue without seeing justice done for Trent. Shall we say 5,000 pounds?”
“My word,” I exclaimed. “That is most generous.”
“You have seen my estate, Dr. Watson. Without Trent, I am all alone. If my money can do some good then so be it.” Turning to Holmes, she said, “Mr. Holmes, will you handle the arrangements? I will be more than happy to reimburse you for your time.”
“Under ordinary circumstances, I would be more than happy to assist Your Ladyship; unfortunately, I find myself overwhelmed at the present time. Between us, I am currently assisting one of the leading houses of Europe in a matter that requires the utmost delicacy.”
To say that Her Ladyship looked crestfallen would not even begin to capture the depths of disappointment that coursed across her face.
Seeing this, Holmes said, “However, here is what we can do. Arrange the details of the reward with your solicitor. Have all responses sent to him, and he can then forward them to Dr. Watson. Although I cannot give it my full attention at this time, I will devote whatever spare time I have to examining the replies after Doctor Watson has culled the wheat from the chaff.
“I do not know if this endeavor will bear fruit, Your Ladyship. But I certainly applaud you for trying.”
“Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I will do exactly as you suggested.” Then she turned to me and I could feel for the woman’s loss. “And thank you, Dr. Watson. I do not know how I shall ever be able to repay you.”
“If justice is done, that is reward enough.”
“I shall go to my solicitor immediately.”
“Excellent,” said Holmes. “Dr. Watson will see you out.”
As I walked Lady Deveron to the door, Holmes disappeared into his bedroom. He returned a minute later and watched Lady Deveron as she walked around her carriage and entered it from the other side. The Clarence then clattered down the street. He continued to look out the window for another moment or two and then nodded.
After he had returned to his chair, I said, “Well thank you for that, Mr. Holmes.”
“Come now, Watson, had I not conscripted you, I have no doubt that you would have volunteered to help a damsel in distress.”
“Be that as it may, Holmes. It was still a bit cheeky on your part. And what new case have you undertaken that would draw you away from the druid killings, especially as the 22nd is less than three weeks away.”
“One that requires absolute secrecy. Although I cannot share the details with you at the present, I promise it will make quite an addition to your chronicles if I am able to complete it successfully.
“As a result, I expect to leave for the Continent for a few days starting tomorrow, but I swear to return well before the 22nd. Although I cannot leave you my itinerary, I promise that I shall stay in close contact with you. Remember, Watson, I am counting on you to separate the wheat from the chaff.”
Chapter 19
Holmes was as good as his word. When I called for breakfast the next morning, Mrs. Hudson informed me that my friend had once again arisen early, telling her that he hoped to be back within the week.
He had also left me a note. As I ate my breakfast, I read its contents:
Dear Watson,
After all that we have been through together, how I wish you could accompany me. However, as I indicated, this is a matter of extreme delicacy. I am counting on you to eliminate all the false leads that may arise from Lady Deveron’s most generous offer. I am hopeful that her reward may result in at least one or two pieces of useful information. As these are dangerous foes, please do not take any action until I return.
I remain your loyal comrade-in-arms,
S.H.
I could not remain angry with my friend, and I was determined to do my best to separate “the wheat from the chaff” for him.
To that end, I sent out for all the morning papers. As you might expect, Lady Deveron’s offer of a reward had attracted a great deal of attention. As I read the various stories, retelling the murder of young Lord Deveron, I wondered how long it would be before I would hear from her solicitor, a Charles Wells, Esq.
I spent most of the day taking care of some financial affairs at my bank and lunching at my club. When I returned home, there was an envelope waiting for me. It had been messengered over from Mr. Wells.
He too had written a brief note.
Dear Dr. Watson,
I have no idea what to make of these. I hope you can make some sense out of them.
Sincerely,
There were five notes addressed to Wells in the envelope. Two proposed that the killer was Jack the Ripper returned from his long hiatus while two others suggested that the killings were the first steps in the return of the druids to dominance.
The fourth note, cryptic in the extreme, quoted the Bible. It took me a few minutes to find the verse, but since I had heard it before, my memory served me well. It was a quote from the Book of Revelations that read:
“And I looked, and behold a pale horse: and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. And power was given unto them over the fourth part of the earth, to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth.”
The letter had been neatly printed on cheap paper. I knew that Holmes could make more of it than I had. Although I must admit that while it said nothing on the surface that appeared to relate to this case, the reference to a “pale horse” seemed to harken back to the White Horse of Uffington. The fact that the word “fourth” had been underlined also seemed to me to portend something ominous as the next would be the fourth murder. After I had placed the first four in one large envelope, I kept that one separate, assigning it to its own envelope.
Every day thereafter at exactly four o’clock an envelope would arrive via messenger at our lodgings. Most days there were one or two missives inside. Occasionally, it contained a brief note from the solicitor that read simply, “Nothing today.”
This went on for approximately one week, and the only other “wheat” that I could separate was a note that read, “Beware the coming of the wicker man.”
I knew from my own research as well as what Holmes had told me that Caesar had written of the druids performing human sacrifices by constructing a giant man of wicker and imprisoning their victims within the structure before setting it on fire.
I could not take it seriously, but since it indirectly referenced a druidic practice, I assigned it to the second envelope which now had two kernels of “wheat” for Holmes to consider.
On December 5th, I received a wire from Holmes that read simply, “Things proceed apace. Expect to return within the week. S.H.”
My friend proved true to his word, for on the evening of Dec. 10th, shortly before dinner time, I heard his familiar tread on the stairs, and shortly after the door was thrown wide as Holmes entered our sitting room.
After removing his coat and hat, he threw himself into his chair and announced, “Watson, it is so good to be home. I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you again.”
“Your case on the Continent. I assume it went well?”
“About as well as could be expected,” he replied rather ambiguously. “And have you been hearing from Mr. Wells?”
“He has been most officious,” I replied and I then detailed for Holmes the events that had transpired, holding back my two grains of “wheat” until the end. “And now, if you have time, you may want to look at these two notes.”
“Only two attracted your attention?” asked Holmes. “I had rather expected more given the size of the reward.”
“As had I, but I think you will agree that these two may bear further investigation.”
Holmes took the notes from me, and after reading the first said, “So now we have moved from druids to Christianity. The ‘pale horse’ reference is intriguing, I grant you that and the references to Death and Hell and the word fourth being underlined are certainly suggestive.”
“What do you make of them?”
After he had read the second, he took out his lens and examined both quite carefully. As he conducted his examination, he would occasionally mutter a comment - “The paper tells us nothing” - before returning to the missives. After he had finished, he sat in his chair in silence and proceeded to light his pipe.
After a few minutes, I was unable to contain myself. “Well?”
“Oh, I do apologize, Watson. Although he has tried to disguise his writing, they were quite obviously penned by the same person. See the rather distinctive crosses on the ‘t’s. Also notice the overly pointed ‘w’s. Although there are only two ‘w’s in the second letter, they are virtually identical to those in the first.
“Also, notice that neither references the reward. Rather an oddity don’t you think, since the letters were sent to Lady Deveron’s solicitor in response to her advertisement of said reward.”
“So then what is the purpose?”
“I think these letters are intended to distract us. They are designed to make us think the killer may return to Uffington or perhaps to have us scour the countryside in hopes of discovering the site of an ancient wicker man.”
“Why would you say that?”
“Bear with me a moment, Watson,” said Holmes, as he pulled a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Unfolding it, he placed it beside the other two letters and began to examine all three.
“Why would I say that? Because I believe that the same person who sent us the letter written in ogham is also the author of your two kernels of wheat.”
“This grows increasingly bizarre!”
“You think so,” remarked Holmes. “I would beg to differ. I think the case grows increasingly clearer. All we need now is to put our hands on the killer.”
“So then you know who it is?”
“At the moment, I fear that I cannot provide you with the name he is using,” replied Holmes, “but I believe that I can identify his employer. I have no idea exactly how this will work itself out - yet. However, I can promise you one thing: Justice will be served.”
Chapter 20
The next two weeks were filled with Holmes coming and going at all hours. He also met with Lestrade on several occasions in our lodgings. Unfortunately, as I was covering for another colleague who was on his honeymoon, I missed many of those planning sessions. When I would press Holmes for details, he would simply respond, “All in due time; all in due time.”
Finally, on December 14th, just after we had finished lunch, Lestrade arrived. After he had settled himself, he looked at Holmes and said, “Mr. Holmes, I have done everything that you asked. My future at the Yard is entirely in your hands.”
Holmes looked at Lestrade, and for a moment, I thought I detected a brief show of emotion of my friend’s face. If I did, it passed quickly as Holmes lit his pipe and then said to Lestrade, “I can assure you Inspector that you have a long and distinguished career in front of you, and bringing this killer to justice may well be its apex.”
“I do hope you are right, Mr. Holmes.”
“How many men have you secured for our little expedition?”
“I recruited five, just as you instructed. Together, with yourself, Dr. Watson and me that makes eight.”
“Excellent, Lestrade. Has any of them left yet?”
“Two have already arrived at the village; another is leaving tonight, and the other two are ready to depart tomorrow.”
“So by the time the 22nd arrives, they will have insinuated themselves into the pattern of daily life there to varying degrees,” said Holmes.
“As much as they are able,” replied Lestrade. “We did get rather lucky in that one of the lads had a friend in the village and asked if he might impose upon him for the holidays. He sold him quite a tale of woe, and from what I can gather will be welcomed with open arms.”
“I don’t think things could have gone much more smoothly,” replied Holmes.
“Nor I, Mr. Holmes.”
“Let us then meet again on Monday,” said Holmes. “Your men have orders to report daily?”
“I am to receive one report each evening that will encompass the progress of all five. They were instructed to send the wires discreetly. We have worked out a rather crude code. They were also told not to use the village post office, but to make their way to a neighboring village to send the wires.”
“You have outdone yourself, Lestrade. I don’t believe that you have missed a trick.”
The Inspector positiv
ely beamed at Holmes’ compliment, and responded with a simple, “I’m just doing my job, Mr. Holmes.”
After he had left, I said, “That was quite nice of you to bolster Lestrade’s spirits with your words.”
“He has done his best,” replied Holmes. “I should have proceeded quite differently, and I will if I must. However, I do understand the restraints that confine Lestrade’s actions and all too often dictate his choices.”
“My word, Holmes.”
“Come now, Watson. We have been toiling on this case for nearly nine months - nine months. Surely, a little prevarication on my part in the interest of maintaining morale is understandable. Lestrade has done nothing wrong. I’m just hoping that we can depend on his men. After all, I merely confided to you that his course of action and mine would have been quite different.”
“I understand. Perhaps the strain is starting to wear on me as well.”
“Watson, you have been the one fixed point throughout this whole sordid affair. I promise you, my friend, it will soon be over.”
At that moment, Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door and announced, “Your envelope is here, Dr. Watson.”
“I wonder what old Wells has sent our way today,” I remarked.
Upon opening the envelope, I discovered that it contained three pieces of paper. The first one maintained the murders were the work of a group of anarchists living in the East End. The second ascribed the crimes to a satanic cult, located in London, who were posing as druids in order to shift the blame for their evil deeds. Both contained contact information and laid claim to reward.
Upon reading the third, I said to Holmes, “You may want to have a look at this.”
Taking the paper from me, he read it over several times. I can still recall each word:
“A small sacrifice at the great wall will free us all.”
After Holmes had finished, he compared it to the other notes of a similar vein.
The Druid of Death - a Sherlock Holmes Adventure Page 12