I was shocked to observe that at first, he did not appear to recognize me; he just stared blankly ahead of him into an ineffable space. However once he did become aware of my presence he appeared to be horrified by his own behaviour.
‘Oh, my dear fellow, I must offer to you a thousand apologies for this sorry show of mine. I should tell you, however, that I am now certain that Tilat will not depart until he has found Daniel Collier and retrieved the beladau from him, although with no violent intent.’
‘Well I am certainly relieved to hear that,’ I confirmed. ‘However I am more concerned about your health. How do you feel now, after such a harrowing experience?’
Holmes smiled at my enquiry as he helped himself to the cigarette that I now offered to him. As he put a flame to it I could not fail to notice a slight hand tremor that caused him to miss the tip.
‘I shall soon be well, old fellow, I can assure you. Do not concern yourself, for not every experience of meditation is a calming or an enlightening one.’
‘Are you able to discuss the veil, which seemed to disturb you so much?’’ I asked somewhat tentatively.
‘There is really very little to discuss, for the reference was purely metaphoric. So much is now clear to me and yet there is one small cloud that simply will not be dispersed. However I am certain that its meaning will prove to be of very little significance and that our first concern is to be prepared once we receive word from Wiggins and his gang, or perhaps from Russell Square.’ Holmes’s last sentence tailed off into a long deep yawn and I was pleasantly surprised to see how willing he was to retire to his room for the night. I needed very little persuasion to follow suit.
When I came down for breakfast on the following morning, I was more than a little taken aback when I realized that Holmes had yet to emerge from his room. Under normal circumstances this would not have seemed to be too unusual, for Holmes was wont to keep most bohemian hours whenever he was not gainfully employed.
On this occasion, however, he was not only fully occupied, but this most taxing of cases was now close to its potentially exhilarating climax. To find him still beneath his covers in view of the current state of affairs was totally unheard of and I raised this point once he had eventually joined me at the breakfast table. His uncharacteristic behaviour continued as he made short work of a delicious plateful of devilled kidneys and eggs.
‘You should not be too astonished, Doctor, for this is my first full meal for over seventy-two hours and I have barely slept a wink for two whole days! Nevertheless, it is true to say that last night’s mysterious experience has undoubtedly taken its toll, even upon a resilient constitution such as mine,’ Holmes explained between mouthfuls. ‘I presume that there has been no word from Wiggins or from Russell Square?’ Holmes added somewhat futilely, knowing full well that had there been we would not be wasting our time around a meal table, and so I answered him.
‘Well, I suppose that my expectations were somewhat premature,’ Holmes commented with surprising nonchalance as he lit his first cigarette of the day.
There was little doubt in my mind that a lot more had occurred to Holmes on the previous night than he was now willing to divulge to me, and I had to take it on faith that whatever it had been was not pertinent to the conclusion of the case.
Leaving Holmes to his own devices, I set out for the morning papers. On my way to Simon’s stand I could not help but shift my gaze towards the corner with the Marylebone Road, on which I had seen the caped stranger for the second time. On this occasion the thoroughfare was teaming with traffic of every description. Businessmen on their way to the Metropolitan railway station, resplendent in their shiny tall hats and overcoats, barrow boys threading their way through the bustle and young maids running errands for their mistresses. However, there was not one tall stranger in his cape to be seen!
One glance at the headlines was enough to alter the tempo of my gait and I collided with at least two of these passers-by as I careered back to our rooms to show them to Holmes.
A Triumph as Scotland Yard’s Finest, Inspector Lestrade, solves the Mystery of the Matilda Briggs
Holmes snatched the paper from me with an alarming display of impatience and he held out its sheets to the limit of his outstretched arms. The article, which was placed at the top of page two of the Telegraph, was not a particularly long one and did not include even one detail of Holmes’s analysis.
‘Ha! Scotland Yard’s finest, indeed!’ Holmes exclaimed, and he was barely able to disguise his ridicule. ‘Well, this is indeed a sorry indictment of the current state of our capital’s constabulary, I must say.’
‘Is that all you have to say about it?’ I asked. ‘Does it not concern you at all that your name is not mentioned even once?’
‘Watson, I can assure you that those lamentably romantic yarns of which you are so misguidedly proud have provided me with significantly more fame than I could possibly know what to do with.’
‘Holmes, that is both undignified and unjust of you!’ I protested. ‘After all, I feel that my writing has always done you full justice.’
‘That is as maybe, but what of the logic and the pure rational reasoning behind my investigations? In your efforts to please your ignorant public with unnecessary prose and hyperbole you have clouded the real issues. What might once have been informative scientific exercises in the processes of deduction have been blown up into a series of ham-fisted pot-boilers! You have surely wasted a unique opportunity,’ Holmes declared ruefully and not without a little asperity.
‘I shall excuse your boorish behaviour on the grounds that you have grown impatient and irritable while you await news from Wiggins and his gang,’ I replied. ‘However I shall not just sit here and allow myself to be unreasonably maligned. I am going out for a walk!’
As I made for my coat and hat, Holmes turned away and dismissed me with an airy flick of his fingers. I made sure that the door closed behind me with a most resounding thud.
By the time that I had stepped out on to the street once more, I found that the early-morning turmoil had lessoned somewhat and that my passage was to be considerably clearer. I turned into Marylebone Road once again and began moving instinctively in an easterly direction. I passed the magnificent waxworks exhibition of Madame Tussauds and before long, as I reached the entrance to the park, I realized that I was being drawn inexorably towards Russell Square!
I was not certain as to the reason for this diversion of mine or even what my expectations would be once I reached Collier’s hotel. Yet as I passed the turning into Gower Street I was suddenly consumed with a sense of dread that would not be allayed, and I turned away from my intended path. I decided there and then that it would better for me not to complete my journey; instead I would explore the Church of Christ the King, in Gordon Square, a building that had always held a certain fascination for me.
It was then that I caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar figure in a crimson cape!
On this occasion there was little doubt in my mind as to the identity of this mysterious apparition and at once I took up the chase. I also committed the fundamental error of calling after him as I did so and, of course he immediately took flight. Being a highly skilled warrior, my quarry proved to be remarkably fleet of foot and I soon found myself losing ground to him.
I realized at once that there was no reasonable chance of my actually catching him, yet I remained resolute in my pursuit. Woburn Square turned into Woburn Place and at each corner that we turned I could not catch more that a tantalizing image of the tail of the cape as it disappeared into the next street. At last and inevitably I did arrive at my original destination, now breathless and perspiring freely. Not surprisingly, the object of my quest was nowhere to be seen.
As soon as I had fully recovered my composure I crossed the road towards Collier’s hotel and I immediately recognized Sergeant Rutherford, Lestrade’s ‘best man’, who had been left to stand vigil on the steps outside. I questioned him rigorously regarding the c
omings and goings at the hotel entrance that morning and he confirmed that he had not noticed anyone untoward within a hundred yards of the place. He also informed me that the rear entrance was used exclusively for tradesmen’s deliveries and that it remained under lock and key when not in use.
I left the officer to his duties and smoked a cigarette while I weighed up my options. There was little doubt in my mind that my futile pursuit of Tilat would have affected Holmes’s plans in one of two ways. Tilat would now be aware that any attempt that he might now make to meet Collier would no longer remain undetected. He would surely abandon his plans for recovering the beladau and go to ground before returning once more to his people in the East. All would be lost and I was certain that Holmes would be inconsolable.
On a more positive note, there was a realistic chance that Tilat would now become desperate and throw caution to the wind. This, of course, would greatly increase the chances of the Irregulars coming across Tilat’s bolt hole and I would need to return to Baker Street before we received word from them.
I threw my cigarette to the gutter and decided to satisfy myself as to Collier’s welfare before taking a cab back to our rooms. I was gratified to note that due vigilance was being observed by the concierge, and that I was not allowed to mount the stairs until Rutherford had confirmed my identity to him. Collier’s room was situated on a secluded corridor on the second floor. The only window that serviced the corridor was tiny and secure and I realized that Collier had chosen well.
Collier called out in order to confirm that it was safe to let me in, and appeared most relieved to see me once he had eventually turned the key to his door. I was shocked to note the effect that this period of seclusion had had on his appearance. He was clearly in need of a shave and a hairbrush. An untouched tray of food and his emaciated grey countenance told of at least one day without food. An ashtray full of the ends of his distinctive cheroots informed me of the manner in which he had spent his time. Of course this was confirmed by the dense fog of smoke that now pervaded the room. This was made worse by the windows being left closed and locked, as a precaution.
‘Oh Doctor, perhaps you can let me know for how much longer I am to remain incarcerated?’ he exclaimed, pulling upon my coat collar as he beseeched me for information. ‘Sergeant Rutherford has been very kind and efficient, but he is hardly very forthcoming.’
‘My dear fellow, it shall not be for much longer, I can assure you. Mr Holmes’s plans are now well progressed and he is confident that the danger that now threatens you will soon be removed for ever.’ I placed a reassuring hand upon the young man’s shoulders, to help to confirm my statement. I then informed him of the events that had taken place at the shipping office and the involvement of the Baker Street Irregulars without revealing anything that might have disturbed him further.
‘Thank you, Doctor.’ Collier smiled weakly. ‘Please inform Mr Holmes that whatever the nature of the dark forces that are abroad, I would like to be present at the death.’
I was greatly moved by the intensity and the sincerity of Collier’s request.
‘I believe that you have earned at least that much,’ I assured him. ‘You should be fully prepared for a call from Sergeant Rutherford, for from the moment that it comes there will be little or no time to lose!’
With that I shook him by the hand and took my leave. ‘Gunner’ King ensured me a speedy return to 221B, but when I burst in upon Holmes I found him in a most melancholy frame of mind. I would not have normally expected any form of an apology from my proud friend; a wave of his hand towards the table by the side of my chair was the nearest that I was ever likely to receive from him.
I followed his gesture and discovered that the table contained a glass of my favourite port and one of his finest cigars. It seemed as if he had not moved a jot throughout my absence, for he still sat with his back to the door. He turned now, slowly and diffidently towards me, so that he could witness my reaction. I could not help but smile at his attempt at reconciliation and he knew it.
‘Ha, Watson! I had hoped that my humble offering would tempt you into returning to the fold.’
‘It was very kind of you,’ I grudgingly conceded.
Realizing that I was not to be so easily won over, he ran across to me and offered to put a light to my cigar.
‘Watson, you should not be too dismayed at my harsh treatment of your literary skills. After all, as you so correctly observed, my mood has not been best served by this interminable waiting. Besides which, your work has much merit in it and you should remember that I certainly have no proficiency in the skills of a scribe.’
With these words the whole matter was duly dismissed from Holmes’s mind and he set to making his plans preparatory to receiving word from the Irregulars. Before he was able to proceed further, however, I thought it best to inform him without delay of my encounter, on the way to Russell Square and the state of affairs at Collier’s hotel. I fully expected to receive another vitriolic condemnation for having placed his plans in jeopardy, but again I was to be pleasantly surprised.
‘Well, well, so it fell to you, friend Watson, to accelerate the turning of the wheels. I should not be at all surprised if we were to receive word from Wiggins before the morning.’ Without another word Holmes picked up his violin and treated me to a delightful rendition of Bruch’s sublime concerto. Under the circumstances it seemed miraculous to me that he was able to do so without hitting a single false note.
By the time that the supper things had been removed all thoughts of Bruch had been long forgotten and Holmes began to pace the room once more as his frustration steadily increased. I tried to distract myself from his angst by diving into the morning papers once again. However, after an hour or so had passed and I had had little success, I found that the effects of the fire and my port were gradually luring me to my room. I decided to abandon Holmes to his prowling and his pipes and a short while later I fell into a wonderful sound sleep.
My consciousness had neither the time nor the inclination for troubling thoughts or dreams and I was only disturbed from my slumber when a vicelike grip fastened itself upon my left shoulder. With a groan I rolled myself slowly over on to my back, to find Holmes glaring down upon me with the glint of excitement shining from his tired eyes. He could barely suppress a smile of anticipation at the thought of the imminent conclusion to the case.
‘Watson, our journey is nearly over. Do stir yourself, for Lestrade and “Gunner” King are awaiting us in a cab on the street below!’
‘Holmes, why is it that the defining moment in every case seems to occur at half past four in the morning?’ I asked wearily, once I had glanced at my clock.
‘Do not concern yourself with such things, for time is of the very essence,’ Holmes reminded me as he left my room.
A moment later, before I had even pulled back my blanket, he was back and calling through the door.
‘Do not forget to take all precautions.’ By which he was prompting me to ensure that my loaded army revolver was with me when I left the room. My years of army life had trained me for preparation at a moment’s notice. Consequently I was dressed and my revolver was loaded and primed for action in less than four minutes.
I patted my coat pocket for reassurance as I closed my bedroom door behind me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE MAN IN THE CRIMSON ROBE
By the time that I had reached the cab, King already had his whip poised above his head and we set off at once at a cracking gallop towards Daniel Collier’s hotel.
Young Wiggins was perched on a seat opposite to that of Holmes and a zealous Lestrade made up the quartet. As I shuffled into my seat Wiggins was in the process of describing to Holmes the lengths that he and the other Irregulars had gone to in tracking down the elusive man from Sumatra.
‘It weren’t easy, Mr ’Olmes, I can tell yer. Me an’ the lads must ’ave been up and down the water’s edge a dozen times or more before we find ’im. Them docklands ain’t no walk i
n the park, in the dead of night, neither.
‘But we put the word about, you see, and when young Corky ’eard of a run-down old ware’ouse down near the Canary docks he got as close as he dare so he could get a good dekko. From what you told me about his get-up, Corky knew ’e ain’t made no mistake!’
By the time that Wiggins had finished his report, Holmes was chuckling to himself at Wiggins’s notion that he would need persuasion to hand over the proper wage for the job.
‘You have all done exceptionally well; however, I will still require you to point out to us the exact situation of the warehouse before we deposit you at a safe distance from whatever might occur.’ As he spoke, Holmes began to count out the coins into the extended and eager palm of the young street Arab.
‘That’s very generous of you, Mr ’olmes. The lads will be pleased and no mistake.’
‘Do not forget your promise that the bonus is to spent on new mittens for you all.’ Holmes smiled.
‘Mr ’Olmes,’ Wiggins responded in a tone of mock indignation, ‘as if me and the lads would squander it on anything else!’
Holmes cast him a momentary look of suspicion before turning his attention to the man from Scotland Yard.
‘Now, Inspector, are you able to confirm that all of your arrangements have been set in motion?’
‘I am, Mr Holmes. I will have a dozen men or more cordoning off the entire area, in case this fellow should slip past us, and I have arranged for two of these new police steam launches to patrol the waters to ensure that he does not make it to the Bellerophon.’
I should point out here that, just prior to my entering the cab Wiggins had been explaining how he had also ascertained that Tilat had arranged a passage for himself aboard a small Greek schooner, the Bellerophon, which was scheduled to depart for the East at first light that very morning! Evidently my near confrontation, with Tilat had brought events forward considerably and ‘Gunner’ King seemed to be well aware of the urgency, if his current rate of progress was anything to judge by.
Sherlock Holmes and the Giant Rat of Sumatra Page 17