by Paul Gilbert
‘Judging by the state of this track and the less than welcoming entrance to his estate, I would say that the good Baron is not one who greets his visitors warmly.’ I commented.
‘Oh, Watson!’ Holmes hissed impatiently. ‘You see all that I see, but simply do not observe. We have arrived with barely enough time to avert Maupertuis’s imminent departure. If we had been but a little later we should have lost our only trail to the most dangerous criminal in Europe!’
I shook my bewildered head. ‘I am sorry, I do not understand how you have reached this conclusion.’
‘Tut, see here …’ Holmes now crouched down on his haunches. ‘There are surely three distinct lines of wheel tracks etched into the mud, here, here and here.’ As Holmes pointed to them I could just make out their outline, but could not distinguish one set from another; however I continued to watch and listen attentively. ‘As you can see, from the direction in which the mud piles have been pushed up, two sets are moving in the direction of the gates and one is moving away. From the distance between each wheel I can gauge that one vehicle is a cart whilst the other is undoubtedly a medium-sized trap, each pulled by a well-shod horse. However, the most significant piece of information, that I can deduce from these tracks, comes from their depth. The only vehicle to have made a return journey, so far, is the cart which was clearly unladen prior to its arrival. See here, though, how much deeper the tracks are sunk upon the cart’s departure!’
‘Of course!’ I exclaimed upon sudden realization. ‘Maupertuis is preparing to vacate the villa!’
‘Exactly, although the precise timing of his departure is, as yet, unclear to me. The trap has undoubtedly been arranged for himself, perhaps one other, and a few pieces of personal luggage. Considering the hour, I think it most unlikely that his departure is scheduled for before the morning, although this we should be able to confirm upon making enquiries at the village livery. As we are here, however …’ Holmes suddenly strode towards a section of the wall that was partly obscured by an overhanging willow tree. He removed his hacking jacket, which he threw towards me to hold, and began climbing up the ivy that was well rooted into the wall. He lost his footing once or twice, but otherwise made good progress.
‘Have a care Holmes!’ I called anxiously, whilst casting my gaze about lest we were being observed by unfriendly eyes. Upon reaching the top of the wall. Holmes rested his elbows while he observed the villa for a moment or two. Then he simply dropped straight down, landing softly and silently in the undergrowth at my feet.
Appearing well pleased with himself, Holmes cheerfully brushed himself down before reclaiming his jacket from my grasp.
‘A brisk walk in the Hertfordshire countryside and a short, though illuminating, climb has certainly done wonders for my appetite. There is now no need for me to question our fellow guests this evening, so I suggest we simply enjoy their company and some pie and ale. Though, beforehand, we must send an urgent wire to Lestrade to ensure that he is on the first available train on the morrow.’ With that Holmes turned on his heel and began walking briskly back towards the village.
I made up sufficient ground to engage him in conversation. ‘Evidently you saw something from your vantage point at the top of the wall that has altered your view of the situation. Would you not care to share it with me?’
Holmes let up, from his breakneck progress, to turn towards me. ‘Watson, I have not just seen something, I have seen everything! I have not only confirmed the presence of the trap that I deduced from the tracks in the mud, but I was witness to its being loaded by none other than my old friend Parker the garrotter.’
‘Good heavens, Holmes!’ I cried. ‘Should we not go back and make an immediate arrest? After all, the man is surely a proven murderer who might yet make good an escape if we were to await Lestrade’s arrival from London. Besides which, if we were to question him now might he not lead us to Maupertuis and hence to Moriarty himself!?’ I speculated.
‘Calm yourself, Watson,’ Holmes quietly reassured me. ‘Parker was not alone. He was being directed in his efforts at loading the trap, by a tall figure almost lost in the shadows of the front doorway. I could just make out a large Germanic moustache and a luxurious house-robe, which indicates to me that the man has no intention of vacating the property until the morning. Besides, the contents of the cart have, in all probability, been deposited at the railway station and there will be no further train until the morning. I am sure that this man is the Baron Maupertuis, of ill-repute.’
By now we had resumed a more sedate progress towards the village. Before long, as we rounded a bend in the track, the villa was once more lost to our vision.
‘Do you not find it most odd to discover these two so diverse rogues, embosomed together in the middle of the Hertfordshire countryside?’ I asked.
‘On the contrary, I find it most natural when you consider that they have both been employed by Moriarty in bringing down his vengeance upon me. Maupertuis first lured me into the web by involving me in the affairs of the Beasants, whilst Parker’s supposed murder of my brother was the next stage towards my entrapment. We are here now to set in motion Moriarty’s, as yet unknown, end game. But wait!’ Holmes suddenly raised a forefinger to urge me to immediate silence. We stopped in our tracks and I strained my ears to detect whatever sound had first alerted Holmes. Sure enough, the slow, soft thuds of a horse’s hoofs, making their way towards us on the track, soon became audible to me.
‘Evidently, Maupertuis has decided that the remainder of his belongings should also precede him to the station.’ Holmes whispered softly to me. ‘Quickly, Watson! Get behind those bushes and ensure that your revolver is primed, then take your lead from me.’
Without question or hesitation I threw myself down behind a thick growth of brambles and saw Holmes do likewise behind a similar thicket on the opposite side of the track. I pulled out my revolver and ensured that each chamber of the barrel was loaded and primed for immediate discharge. Then I turned to face towards the direction of the approaching horse and trap.
Sure enough, within a moment or two, a small, fully laden trap pulled by a single horse came into view from around the bend. Its driver was a surly-looking scoundrel clad in a bright-chequered jacket and a battered bowler hat. The moustache that he sported was both dishevelled and lopsided and his curve-stemmed pipe was unlit. He sat there, oblivious to our presence, nonchalantly flicking the horse’s back with the reins from time to time. This, then, was the lethally talented Parker, one of Moriarty’s staunchest allies.
We waited for what seemed to be an eternity, until the trap was alongside our respective bushes, before making our move. When we did it was as sudden as it was decisive. With no indication to me, Holmes leapt out from behind his bush and made directly for the slow-moving horse. With no intention of harming the animal, Holmes attempted to strangle the horse by pulling against its throat with the bridle. This had the desired effect of causing the beast to rear up on to its hindlegs, causing the trap partially to upend. Various pieces of baggage began cascading on to the mud below, followed by the hapless driver, who evidently injured his shoulder in the process. I now strode forward and pressed the muzzle of my revolver against the side of his head and with sufficient force as to leave Parker in no doubt as to the futility of any resistance.
Fortunately in this I was successful and, after some virulent and repeated cursing, Parker was both silent and motionless for the duration of our journey back to Bushey Heath. Holmes led the horse while I sat beside Parker on the trap, ensuring that my revolver remained pressed against his head until we arrived safely at the small local constabulary building. The officer was considerably put out by our intrusion, for it had been many years since his solitary cell had played host to a criminal of any description, far less a much sought-after murderer. However, we eventually calmed his nerves by assuring him that Inspector Lestrade of the Yard would be arriving on the first available morning train to relieve him of his charge.
Not s
urprisingly, in view of his employer’s reputation for being able to smooth the course of justice for those of his minions who fell into the hands of the law, Parker was loath to impart any information to us that we asked of him. Despairing of making any progress, therefore, and after ensuring that Parker was securely incarcerated for the night, we repaired to the Queen’s Arms for some alimentary fortification.
This took the shape of a game pie, some parsley potatoes and a tankard of local ale. Throughout the consumption of this most welcome repast, Holmes outlined to me the remainder of his plan.
‘As you know, Watson,’ he began whilst lighting a cigarette, ‘at the outset I fully intended to await Lestrade’s arrival before forcing the issue with Maupertuis, merely using our first hours here to discover how things truly stood. I am sure you will realize that this is not now possible. I have no way of knowing whether Parker was intending to return to The Willows after off-loading the baggage this evening, or to go back for Maupertuis tomorrow morning. Were I to await Lestrade and it turned out that Parker was expected back this evening, his continued absence would alert Maupertuis to there being something amiss, perhaps provoking him to elude us by slinking away during the night. Clearly I cannot afford to let this happen. ‘Therefore, I propose that you await Lestrade here in the village, so being able to lead him to The Willows immediately upon his arrival. In the meantime I shall make my way back to the villa at once to ensure that Maupertuis does not depart prematurely. Before you raise your most understandable objections, let me assure you here and now that I shall take no action until you both join me, unless it becomes absolutely necessary.’
I nodded my head gravely. ‘Although I am not pleased at these arrangements, I understand why they are necessary. However, be assured that if I receive word of any delay on Lestrade’s part I shall feel at liberty to join you on my own.’
‘Agreed, and I shall be more than pleased to have your company!’ With that Holmes dramatically stubbed out his cigarette into the remains of his pie and strode purposefully from the room.
The remainder of the evening and the subsequent night passed slowly for me, as might be imagined. Clearly the knowledge that Holmes’s fate lay very much in the balance precluded any inclination for, or even any possibility of, sleep. Therefore I was resigned to spending these long hours in the somewhat uncomfortable armchair in my bedroom, smoking incessantly on my pipe. The chiming clock, housed in the dining room downstairs, had just sounded fifteen minutes past two of the morning when, to my great surprise, the somewhat bedraggled, but none the less most welcome, apparition of Inspector Lestrade burst suddenly into my room!
‘Lestrade!’ I exclaimed, leaping from my chair. ‘We were not expecting you until the morning train had arrived!’
‘I know, Dr Watson,’ answered Lestrade breathlessly, ‘but such is the bizarre and urgent nature of a wire that I have received from the Salzburg police that I had no choice but to procure the use of a four-horse carriage. Where is Mr Holmes?’
I proceeded to outline briefly the events leading to our arrest of Parker in explanation of the reasons for Holmes’s return to The Willows, alone at such an hour.
‘Oh, but Dr Watson, we must go to him at once. He is in the gravest danger! My carriage awaits us outside.’
I needed no prompting and it was not until we were tearing along that muddy track that Lestrade produced that portentous wire. It read:
THE CORPSE OF THE MAN KNOWN TO SOME AS BARON MAUPERTUIS HAS BEEN DISCOVERED IN THE CELLAR OF HIS FIRE-RAVAGED CASTLE STOP DEATH OCCURRED FORTY EIGHT HOURS AGO STOP REPORTS OF HIS BEING IN YOUR COUNTRY UNFOUNDED STOP
‘Clearly Professor Moriarty has covered his traces with a most ruthless efficiency. Once Maupertuis had ceased to be of any more use, he had him eliminated. Yet you tell me that Mr Holmes clearly saw him at the villa. I do not understand,’ Lestrade said, shaking his head.
‘Is it not now obvious to you, Lestrade!’ I shouted in desperation, ‘the other man that Holmes saw was none other than Moriarty disguised as Maupertuis! Obviously he did not intend making his final departure until he had destroyed Holmes, so he fully expected Parker to return tonight to aid him in this.’ Whilst I was talking I checked my revolver once more. ‘As soon as he realizes that Parker will not be returning he will surely be in little doubt that Holmes is close at hand.’
When we reached the villa the large gates were standing ominously open. A steady rain had begun to fall, obscuring the building in the distance. Then, as we drew closer, we could see a single light faintly illuminating a window on the upper floor. The silhouette of a tall man walking before it was the only indication of activity. We both alighted from the carriage before the driver had even drawn up the horses, burst through the partly opened doors and then ran up the stairs at a sprint. Fearful anticipation of what we might discover spurred me on to almost super-human efforts and I reached the top of the stairs well before Lestrade, my gun poised in my right hand.
I paused on the landing momentarily to ascertain from under which door shone the lonely shard of light. Then, upon Lestrade’s arrival, we both moved stealthily towards it. I became aware of a tremor in my gun hand, but I realized that it had not been brought on by fear of confrontation, rather the dread of any harm having befallen my friend.
Then the all-embracing silence was shattered by the sound of a solitary pistol shot that echoed out from behind the very door we were approaching. I froze for an instant, aware now of my pounding heart and a cold sweat trickling down my back. I tried to block out the awful vision of what might await us behind that door. I could not contain myself any longer and rushed to the door, firing at the lock in order to release it. Lestrade crashed his boot against the shattered door which then hung open. For a moment I dared not enter, and allowed Lestrade to go through ahead of me. Then, mercifully, when at the limit of my despair, I heard a familiar voice:
‘Ah, Lestrade, your mistiming is as impeccable as ever!’
It was with an indescribable relief that I now hurried expectantly into the room, although, unlike my friend, I could not disguise my emotions.
‘Holmes! It is you! I cannot believe that you are standing there, before me, alive and well.’ I exclaimed. Realizing how fraught I had been, Holmes walked over to me and placed his hand upon my shoulder.
‘Though misplaced, fortunately your concern for my safety and well-being is most touching. Watson, you are a true friend, but as you can see it is Professor Moriarty who is with us no more!’
I moved over to a large desk by the window, whereon lay the professor’s remains. He had certainly been a tall man and even in his contorted position I could see the severely rounded shoulders that Holmes had previously described to me. However the rest of his appearance belied these suggestions of ageing. The man before me had a full head of hair, not receded, and sported a large bushy moustache. There was a large bullet hole in his forehead that told of a point-blank shot and the remnants of the greatest criminal brain of his generation were now splattered on to the curtains behind him.
When I voiced my observations and read to Holmes the wire from the Salzburg police, Holmes commented: ‘It seems that I was not the only master of disguise. Moriarty was surely my Nemesis in every aspect. There will never be another like him.’
‘Holmes, there is almost an air of regret in what you say. Surely you should rejoice in your destruction of so vile a criminal,’ I ventured.
‘Undoubtedly I would have done had I been responsible for his demise. However, I was but a blundering fool compared to Moriarty’s cunning, methodical planning,’ Holmes remarked gloomily.
‘Whatever do you mean, Mr Holmes?’ Lestrade asked.
‘There will be time enough for explanations once we have returned to Baker Street. For now our priorities have to be the removal of the body and the procurement of a decent glass of cognac. Besides, my brother must be released with all speed from what he will see as his imprisonment.’
We spent what was left of the night ba
ck at the tavern. In the morning all manner of police officials descended in droves on the tiny village. Once we were satisfied that our part in the proceedings had been concluded, we left Lestrade to tie things up and secure transport for his prisoner and Moriarty’s body.
We caught the train back to London.
Upon our return to Baker Street we discovered that Mycroft was still asleep in Holmes’s room and that Mrs Hudson was more than glad to see us return. She would not go into detail, but repeatedly referred to Mycroft as ‘that insufferable man!’ a reference that clearly amused Holmes. Upon his awakening, to our great surprise we discovered that Mycroft was in no great hurry to expedite his departure. Ostensibly he wished to remain until Holmes had fully acquainted him with every aspect of the conclusion of the Moriarty affair. Although it might have been just possible that, for two days at least, he had found some form of domestic company preferable to his repetitive, solitary daily routine.
We spent much of the ensuing day discussing and analysing every aspect of our adventure. It was decided that it would fall to Mycroft to break the news to Lady Beasant that a refund of her husband’s lost fortune would not be forthcoming. By the time of Lestrade’s arrival we had fully exhausted Mrs Hudson and her supply of tea, and Holmes had now changed into his purple robe and exchanged his clay pipe for his cherrywood. This was a clear indication that he was now ready to disclose the exact manner and circumstances of his final confrontation with Moriarty.
He stood by the window resting his left leg upon its ledge, his elbow on his knee and, held in his hand his pipe, from which he frequently drew smoke. Despite the subject matter, with his left hand tucked into the pocket of his gown he appeared as relaxed and composed as one could possibly imagine.
‘Gentlemen, you must understand that from the outset, when I had left Watson waiting rather anxiously at the Queen’s Arms, I was convinced that it was Baron Maupertuis whom Parker had left alone at the villa, and that I had no intention of forcing a confrontation unless there were indications of a premature departure.