by Paul Gilbert
‘Does Mr Holmes not now wish to assist us?’ Mildred Lomas breathlessly asked of me.
‘I am sure that that is still his intention,’ I answered emphatically. ‘However, Mr Holmes works to his own methods and, even his most surprising actions will be vindicated by their results.’ Despite this outward display of cheerful optimism, I harboured my own misgivings at Holmes’s infuriatingly enigmatic behaviour. His purpose in remaining on the train was completely beyond me. Surely, I reasoned, the mystery and therefore our investigation began and ended in the delightful, though now tragic, fishing village of Leigh-on-Sea. I briefly studied the schedule of the remainder of our train’s journey, which indicated stops at Chalkwell, Westcliff, Southend, Thorpe Bay and Shoeburyness, yet none of these places suggested anything of interest or significance. Like the Lomases, I was resigned to awaiting Holmes’s return before we could be enlightened as to the purpose of his mysterious departure.
Apologetically, the Lomases recommended the Ship hotel to me, as being ideal accommodation for Holmes and myself. Their small household was much disturbed, at present, and they were, therefore, unable to reciprocate our hospitality of the previous night. I waved this apology aside and suggested that we should all meet again after supper, by which time I was certain that Holmes would have rejoined us. They promptly agreed to this arrangement and I was left to trudge off towards the bottom of Leigh Hill where, I understood, our tavern might be found, still in possession of Holmes’s abandoned bag.
Our rooms were spartan and charmless, although they afforded a view of the estuary and a pungent odour from its mud flats. After a brief conversation with our equally charmless landlord, whereby I discovered our mealtimes and the tavern’s reputation for having harboured smugglers in the old days, I struck out for Hadleigh Castle, the ruins of which our train had taken us past just prior to pulling into the station.
My walk was somewhat arduous as the ruins were at the summit of a steep hill. When I eventually reached them I was disappointed to discover that a single crumbling wall was all that remained of this small Norman castle. I only stayed long enough to enjoy a pipe before returning to the tavern in time for an early supper and, I had hoped, some news from my friend.
Upon my arrival I was disappointed to learn from the landlord that he had not yet seen or heard from Holmes and that the preparation of our supper was somewhat behind schedule. Therefore I took myself into the deserted saloon and ordered a pint of ale from the aged bartender. This individual was delighted to learn that I was a doctor and then proceeded to describe to me his various complaints and ailments whilst I patiently sipped at my beer. I was at the point of despair when I was alerted to the familiar smell of strong shag tobacco and at last observed a column of thick smoke rising from behind the back of a high-winged leather chair.
‘I was wondering how long it would take you to become aware of my presence!’ Holmes laughed as I tentatively stole round the side of his chair. He waved me towards a chair opposite his own and another glass of beer awaiting me on the table before it.
‘I see you could not wait for me to join you before beginning your libations,’ Holmes observed as I placed my existing drink on the table next to the new one. ‘However, our supper is still some way off so you should have time to enjoy them both.’
‘Beer, supper, by all means, however, you must inform me at once of the reasons for and the results of your strange disappearance at the station this morning!’ I insisted.
‘I must apologize for that, dear fellow, but I suddenly realized, as we got off the train, that your solitary arrival would draw far less attention than the two of us together. Therefore I decided to continue my journey to the end of the line, which terminates at Shoeburyness. This destination was well suited to my purposes providing, as it does, the last view of the Thames before it flows out into the North Sea. As I stood on that promontory I realized at once that an interested observer would be in a most advantageous position to either confirm, or rebut Lomas’s assertions.
‘I therefore set about looking for this individual if, indeed, he even existed. To my disappointment and surprise, my enquiries at the local inn did little to enlighten me. However, walking along the promenade I came upon two grizzled old sailors whiling away an idle afternoon together. I fell into conversation with them, and, Watson, to my great satisfaction they both remembered having seen the Alicia navigating her final departure from the estuary, on the morning in question—’ At that moment our excitable young client, Miss Lomas, came bustling into the room.
‘Oh, Mr Holmes!’ she said breathlessly and with much relief in her voice. ‘My brother and I were so taken aback by your abrupt departure this morning that I did not, in all honesty, expect to see you sitting here this evening!’
‘Calm yourself, Miss Lomas.’ Holmes laughed gently. ‘I apologize for any undue agitation that I may have caused you, but as my friend Watson here will attest, I have never been able to resist a touch of the dramatic. However, console yourself with the fact that my enquiries at Shoeburyness have provided our investigation with a most positive starting point. There is now a glimmer of light penetrating the gloom that has surrounded you.’
The young lady was so overwhelmed with joyous emotion that she ran towards Holmes, and would undoubtedly have embraced him were it not for his raised arms warding her off.
‘I knew from the outset that you would save our father!’ she exclaimed.
The look of consternation upon Holmes’s face slowly disappeared as he gently pushed Miss Lomas away from him. ‘My dear young lady, your assumptions and demonstrations of joy are, alas, somewhat premature at this early stage. I can only confirm that I will now proceed, confident in the belief that your father’s story is the absolute truth. To convince the authorities of this, sufficiently to effect his release will be quite another matter.’
Miss Lomas managed to calm herself while I showed her to a chair at our table.
‘Please explain, Mr Holmes, how you reached your conclusion regarding the truth of my father’s version of events,’ Miss Lomas asked.
‘Your arrival was well-timed, for I was about to set this before Watson, so you have now saved me the tiresome task of repeating myself.’
‘Will your brother not be joining us?’ I asked, with some surprise at his absence.
‘Unfortunately his work for Mr Garside as clerk and rent-collector sometimes extends into the evening, but he sends his apologies and I will inform him of any outcome.’
‘Now I understand. I was concerned that perhaps he was still harbouring some misgivings about taking us into your confidence. I take it that his employer is the same Nathaniel Garside who owned the Alicia?’ I asked.
‘The very same,’ Miss Lomas replied. ‘He has many tenants in the local vicinity and Edward helps him administer his estate, but please, Mr Holmes, you were about to explain the results of your visit to Shoeburyness.’
‘Of course, of course, but first please indulge me by answering a question or two of my own.’ At this point Holmes leant back thoughtfully in his chair whilst drawing deeply on his pipe. ‘Miss Lomas, to your knowledge were any members of Johnson’s crew tenants of Mr Garside?’
‘I should be very surprised if that were not so. Mr Garside owns a line of small cottages close by the creek and most of their occupants are seamen and their families. However, I am sure that my brother would be able to confirm this.’
At this, Holmes suddenly sat upright once more, clearly agitated by Miss Lomas’s suggestion. Then, having sensed Miss Lomas’s consternation at this unexpected reaction, he forced a smile and said: ‘I would much appreciate it if you could confirm this through another source. At this stage, I do not think it is in your father’s best interests for Mr Garside to have any inkling as to my line of enquiry.’
‘I am sure that my brother would not mention it to Mr Garside were you to request him not to,’ Miss Lomas responded defensively.
‘Nevertheless!’ Holmes insisted.
; ‘Of course, Mr Holmes, if you feel it is absolutely necessary.’
Holmes then leant back once more and relit his pipe.
‘Now to my encounter in Shoeburyness this afternoon, with two aged, but sharp-eyed seamen,’ he began, clearly much relieved at Miss Lomas’s acquiescence. ‘I will not divulge the names of the two gentlemen in question, at their request, but suffice it to say their evidence will prove to be of the greatest importance. They are old acquaintances of your father and are most anxious to aid in his release. No doubt the authorities are unaware of their existence and, consequently, of the information that they can bring to bear. Therefore they will keep a low profile, but they have assured me of their full co-operation once the moment comes.
‘On the morning of the Alicia’s inexplicable disappearance they were enjoying their pipes on the promenade, as is their wont. Not only were they able to confirm your father’s observation, that the Alicia was sitting unusually low in the water, but they are also willing to swear, under oath, that she had already begun listing to one side. Obviously, the mist obscured the Alicia’s final descent beneath the waves, but they are equally certain that she must have been shipping water before she had even left the harbour.’
‘Whilst I am much relieved at this vindication of my father’s word, it is almost inconceivable that a seaman of Captain Johnson’s experience would ever put to sea in command of a craft in such a condition,’ Miss Lomas observed gravely.
‘Yet three independent witnesses have now confirmed this to be the case. You see, we are no longer investigating the mysterious disappearance of a vessel and her crew, but are now delving into one of the deepest and darkest cases that we have yet encountered,’ Holmes solemnly declared.
I could contain myself no longer. ‘Holmes, surely you are not suggesting that Johnson would have deliberately sabotaged his own vessel and jeopardized the lives of his crew!’
‘I can think of no other explanation that would fit the facts. However, there is still much that we need to learn before I can present this to the authorities. Miss Lomas, can you tell me who is leading the investigation?’
‘Scotland Yard sent an Inspector Fowler, a most odious and unsympathetic man, who seems to get on quite well with Nathaniel Garside.’
‘Ah, so you have already formed this judgement of him. Watson, surely you remember our old friend from our investigation into the Egyptian gargoyle?’ Holmes asked me sardonically.
‘I most certainly do!’ I replied emphatically. ‘He was both arrogant and uncooperative, yet you sent him packing with a resounding flea in his ear. I rather fancy he will be more willing to co-operate with us on this occasion.’
‘We shall see. However, there is little more that we can achieve this evening. May I prevail upon you to make your own discreet enquiries as to the domestic circumstances of the missing crew members, Miss Lomas, while Watson and I will endeavour to be Inspector Fowler’s first visitors in the morning.’ With that Miss Lomas took her leave of us and we, in turn, retired shortly afterwards.
We spent an uncomfortable night, in our spartan and cheerless rooms, so that we experienced no real difficulty in meeting the unreasonably early breakfast time offered by our landlord. I, at any rate, was somewhat compensated for this by being served a brace of the freshest and most delicious kippers I had ever eaten. Holmes made do with a couple of cigarettes and the occasional sip from a cup of almost undrinkable coffee.
We arrived at the local constabulary on Elm Road at a little after nine o’clock, only to discover that Inspector Fowler had not yet surfaced from his hotel. We decided to wait, little realizing that it would be another hour before his arrival. When he did at last appear he seemed dishevelled and in a state of some agitation. When he noticed us in the corner of the waiting-room this agitation seemed to heighten somewhat.
He greeted us with no more than a sneer and gestured us toward his office with an unceremonious jerk of his head. By the time we had joined him there he was in the process of ordering himself a cup of black coffee. After glancing in our direction, however, he increased the order to three.
‘I trust that the police beverage will prove to be less poisonous than the one we were subjected to this morning at breakfast, eh, Watson? So, Inspector Fowler, why has Scotland Yard sent its very finest, to this neck of the woods?’ Holmes cheerily enquired.
Ignoring Holmes’s question, Fowler said: ‘I am a little surprised that the small matter of a lost ship should have lured the illustrious Sherlock Holmes from Baker Street; more than a little off your usual path. Besides, my business here is all but complete; you have wasted your time and your journey.’
‘The Lomases do not seem to think so. Indeed they are most anxious for us to stay and help towards securing their father’s release. Now, I am sure that the authorities have a good reason for keeping me ignorant of this affair, equally I am certain that you have your own motives, despite the successful conclusion to the matter of the Egyptian gargoyle. If we work together, though, I am sure we can bring about the release of an innocent man.’
‘You are so certain of his innocence?’ Fowler asked, raising one eyebrow quizzically.
‘As certain as I am that you have no intention of leaving for London today!’ Holmes replied.
‘Ah, your marvellous theories, once again,’ Fowler responded.
‘What might appear to be theories to an untrained and chaotic mind, are, to the logical reasoner, nothing more than simple observations. For example, just one glance at your face and the results of the haphazard use of a blunt razor blade indicates to me that you have no intention of meeting your superiors today, nor, therefore, of leaving Leigh-on-Sea.’ Holmes concluded.
‘That is all very well,’ Fowler responded with some bitterness. ‘However, I see little reason to favour Lomas’s drink-fuelled version of events over that of the redoubtable Nathaniel Garside. Surely a man of logic, such as yourself, must dismiss the idea of a ship, the size of the Alicia, disappearing in a patch of mist!’
Holmes sipped disdainfully from his coffee cup. ‘Inspector Fowler, perhaps you would be better served if you cultivated the ability to isolate the source of your information from the absolute truth. The fact that the source is from the mouth of an elderly seaman with a bent towards drink has clearly prejudiced your judgement. I am certain that you would not be in such a hurry to depart for London, with your work incomplete, if you had met the two witnesses who are both willing and able to corroborate Lomas’s story.’
At these words Fowler leant forward on his desk and now seemed to view Holmes without any of the disdain that he had been displaying so far.
‘Mr Holmes,’ Fowler replied. ‘I must tell you that at the time of our earlier collaboration I viewed your involvement in the case with both scepticism and resentment. However, events and conversations with Inspector Lestrade, have since corrected that point of view. Equally, I am sure that a man of your unique talents and abilities considered me as nothing more than an inefficient oaf, stumbling around blindly in search of my own misguided view of the truth.’
Holmes shuffled uneasily in his chair, never comfortable when confronted with compliments, whilst Fowler continued:
‘However, I must assure you that whatever my shortcomings might be as a detective, I am hard-working and diligent and, above all else, a believer in justice and the truth.’
Clearly moved, by Fowler’s fervent declarations, Holmes bowed his head with a smile and said: ‘I am most reassured to hear you say so, Inspector Fowler.’
‘As to the matter at hand, I must admit that I have been harbouring my own misgivings as to the manner in which this case has been conducted, even before your arrival in Leigh.’ Fowler stated bluntly.
‘Ah! Now to the crux of the matter.’ Holmes now abandoned his attempts to consume his coffee, lighting a cigarette instead whilst that familiar glint lit up his grey eyes once again. ‘Exactly what has caused these feelings of misgiving?’
‘To begin with, my presence her
e has seemed to be both superfluous and, indeed, unwanted. The searches for the Alicia were conducted prior to my arrival without, I might add, the involvement of the local coastguard, solely at the instigation and under the auspices of Nathaniel Garside. Any attempts I have made at extracting information from the local force have been met with obstructions and my superiors at the Yard have instructed me to tread softly and not to intrude upon the deep sense of loss felt by the whole community. The incarceration of Lomas seems to have been for precisely that reason alone, with only his immediate family raising any objection to this at all!
I could not contain myself for another moment. ‘I simply do not understand! Is there nobody involved, other than the Lomases and yourself, who wants to discover the truth? Surely the families of the lost seamen want to know the true fate of the Alicia?!’ I exclaimed.
‘For many seamen the very nature of their work precludes the comforts of a traditional family life. In the case of the Alicia, neither Captain Johnson nor any of his small crew was married,’ Fowler replied.
‘That is most convenient,’ Holmes mumbled quietly to himself. However, before either Fowler or myself could query Holmes’s strange comment he slapped his palms down hard on the edge of Fowler’s desk, then jumped suddenly to his feet and proclaimed; ‘Gentlemen, we shall have to build this case for ourselves, in spite of any obstructions strewn in our path! Are you up for it Inspector, bearing in mind the detrimental effect it might have on your career?’
‘I should be honoured, Mr Holmes. Just allow me time to shave, please, there was really no incentive whilst I was merely acting as the appearance of officialdom.’ Holmes nodded his agreement.
‘Then I propose a bracing walk by the harbour. Who knows what we might discover by the shore!’
Holmes and I waited enviously in the lobby of Fowler’s hotel while he set urgently about his toilet. We discovered that the original building, the Peter Boat Inn had burnt to the ground in ’92, whereupon it was revealed that its cellar had been used to store the contraband of local smugglers. The inn had been rebuilt as a most splendid hostelry which surely put ours to shame. Perhaps more significantly, we discovered that in the early part of the century, small cutters, otherwise known as ‘Bawleys’, had often been used by smugglers, when not engaged in their lawful employment of cockling.