The Adventure of the Tired Captain A Sherlock Holmes Case (16 page)

“These three letters can be arranged in six distinct combinations,
ERY, RYE, REY, YER, YRE, and EYR, and of these six combinations I think the first three are the most likely to bear fruit.”

“That seems like a reasonable conclusion, Holmes. Now all we have to do is look at a map of London for all the places that have these letters in their names,” I said doubtfully. “It seems an impossible task.”

“I agree with you, Watson. However I do not believe that we will have to engage in such a tiresome chore. I am afraid that Colonel Moran will provide us with the next clue.”

“My God, you don’t mean yet another murder, Holmes?”

“I am afraid so, Watson. It appears that for some reason of his own Moran is quite intent on us finding your wife. Although he has the cunning of a mongoose he lacks the intelligence and duplicity of Professor Moriarty and the trail which he leaves will be a straight forward one. He will continue laying down his trail of breadcrumbs until we walk into his trap. The old
shikari
is luring us in.”

At that moment there arose a great clattering of feet from the front stairs and the small form of Wiggins reappeared in our doorway. This time he was alone.

“Yes what is it, Wiggins?” Holmes asked looking up from a small book he had taken down from his shelf.

“The police have found the body of another dead man, Mr. Holmes,” he said breathlessly waving a telegram form with one of his grubby little hands.

“One would have been more surprised at finding the body of a live man, Wiggins,” Holmes said dryly, “and where did this noteworthy event take place?”

“In Edmonton, Mr. Holmes,” replied the boy.

“Edmonton?”

“
Edmonton Watson is a small suburb north of Tottenham on the very outskirts of the city.”

“Except for my wife and your cousin I didn’t think that there was anybody connected with this business left for
him to kill,” I remarked grimly.

“A bit of an exaggeration surely, Watson, however your point is well taken.”

“What makes the inspector think that the body of a man found in Edmonton would be of interest to us?” I asked.

“Lestrade does not go into detail,” said Holmes quickly reading the telegram which he had finally managed to snatch from the boy’s wildly gesticulating hands. “He insists that we come at once.” My friend threw the paper across to me.
Holmes was at the door putting on his hat and coat even before I had finished reading the few lines which were written upon the paper.

“Are you coming, Watson?” he yelled over his shoulder.

“Call for a cab, Holmes, I shall join you in a moment.”

The journey to the northern environs of the city was a tortuous one and Holmes kept his thoughts to himself staring vacantly out of the window. I had many questions which he did not see fit to answer.

Edmonton appeared to be mainly a residential area and according to Holmes was only recently joined with the metropolis. I was not familiar with the area however my friend seemed to know exactly where he was going. Holmes instructed the driver to stop in front of a small brick house in Fore Street which evidently was one of the main thoroughfares of the district and where Lestrade awaited us. Without a word our old acquaintance led us down a narrow mews. The unclothed body of a man lay face up in a small patch of tall grass partially covered with leaves and dirt. Carrion and insects had begun to consume the flesh.

I felt like I was going to vomit and Lestrade too, had turned pale. Holmes was unmoved.

“Who found the body, Lestrade?” Holmes asked.

“Some of the local children were playing and found the body laying here. I sent word to you as soon as possible.”

“What do you make of it, Watson?”

“I make nothing of it, Holmes. It is outside my province.”

“Come now, Watson. I think that we can do better than that,” said Holmes kneeling over the body.

“That the man has been garroted is obvious by the marks which are still evident on his throat. He is right handed as shown by the horny callouses on the thumbs of that hand. Look at his knees Watson, the knock-knees are probably a result of working long hours in a factory in his youth. It is a common enough complaint. The maggots which have infested his wounds are probably in the second larval stage which will usually appear on fresh flesh within about two and a half days of death, depending on the temperature. Although the days have been wet they have also been quite warm for the last week. It is not one of those areas of study which I have delved into extensively, however, I believe I am correct and will make some inquiries into the subject when we return to civilization.”

Abruptly my friend rose to his feet. “Come, Watson, let us leave this frightful place.”

Holmes seemed particularly unsettled on our return journey and stared morosely out of the window. The skies had opened up and the rain was coming down in sheets as we arrived in Baker Street. As we had neglected to take our umbrellas we were soaked to the skin by the time Holmes had fumbled for his keys and unlocked the door.

“I see that your brother is not here,” I remarked, removing my wet jacket and hanging it on the stand beside the door.

“What makes you think tha
t Mycroft would be here, Watson?” he remarked as he threw his own jacket onto the settee, “he so seldom strays from his routine that I for one would not expect to see him.”

“It is just that he seems to be so inextricably involved in this affair that I expect to see him at every instance.”

Holmes strode over to the chalkboard which he had set up in the middle of the room and upon which he had written all of the possible combinations of the three letters E, R and Y.

“Which of the Scotland Yard Divisions is Edmonton in?” I asked.

For a moment he did not appear to hear me. “It is in N division I believe,” he said presently.

He erased the existing markings and began scribbling down new ones which now included this latest clue. I watched in fascination. Holmes muttered quietly to himself as he attempted to make sense of the four letters and identify the particular area of the city to which they might pertain.

There was a sudden knock on the door.

“Come in, Mrs. Hudson,” he called out not looking up.

“A gentleman brought this for you, Mr. Holmes,” she said.

“Go away Mrs. Hudson, I am very busy.” She looked at me and then quickly and purposely strode over to Holmes and handed to him a telegram. With a sigh he
snatched the paper from her hand. Quickly he scanned the contents and then without a word threw it into the grate and hurried for the door. I could hear the faint murmur of voices from the bottom of the stairs quickly followed by the sound of the street door closing. I waited for Holmes to reappear but he didn’t come back. I was not surprised. I pulled the paper from the hearth where it had landed and smoothing it out, I read the short message that it contained. With a weariness which was bone deep I put on my jacket and hat and went downstairs.

I walked the short distance to the Post Office and sent off my own telegram. Extracting a promise to bring me the reply as soon as possible I returned to Baker Street. I had not long to wait as no less
than half an hour later Mrs. Hudson brought in a response. It was what I had been waiting for. I had found Mary.

The Royal Naval Hospital had been founded in the late 17th century as a home to those aged or infirm servants of Her Majesty’s Navy. The two hundred year old edifice now nearly half empty; stood almost in the shadow of the Royal Observatory. It was here that many former sailors had come to pass their remaining years and it was here that I had come to find my wife.

Arriving in Greenwich I took notice of neither the fetid stench of the
neighbouring river nor the hospital’s magnificent setting for as I climbed from my cab I was greeted by the sight of Sherlock Holmes standing on the front steps of the hospital looking not unlike an immaculately dressed scarecrow. He did not seem surprised to see me.

“You are becoming quite adept at following me, old friend,” he remarked, “or else I am getting quite sloppy.”

I handed him the telegram which I had retrieved from the fireplace.

For one of the few
times during our association I heard him swear. I made to brush past him.

“I am afraid it is too late, Watson,” he said quietly.

I swooned and he caught me, lowering me onto the floor. Waving away an offer of assistance he forced some brandy down my throat. I struggled to get up.

“Lie quietly old friend there will be time enough to see her when you have regained your strength.”

“Go to hell, Holmes,” I said fiercely. I pushed aside his arm which was on my shoulder. “I will find her even if I have to crawl on my hands and knees.”

“Well no doubt you are right
Watson, follow me.”

I was not at all familiar with the Royal Naval Hospital and I quickly became confused with the maze of corridors and stairways, however it was apparent that Holmes had been there before, perhaps many times, and in about ten minutes we came to what a
ppeared to be an isolated wing. Our footsteps echoed in the quiet hallways and no words passed between us.

Suddenly he stopped and pointed to a padlocked door.
“She is in here,” he said quietly. From his pocket he produced a key and turned it in the lock. “I shall remain here should you need me.”

Even
in the dimly lit room I could make out the figure of my wife lying in a bed. Her beautiful face was barely touched by the ravages of the disease, however I knew what horrors must lie beneath the sheet. Heedless of the risk I bent over to kiss her, but a massive hand grabbed me by the shoulder and flung me back. In a mere moment I had whipped out my revolver from my pocket and aimed it at the massive figure of Mycroft Holmes. His face was ashen. Enraged, my hand shook as I pointed the weapon at him. Suddenly the gun was knocked from my hand. Sherlock Holmes threw down the stick which he had used and put his arms around me. I wept.

I was only vaguely aware of events of the next two days as I lay in my bed in a laudanum induced stupor and it was only on the morning of the third day that I finally regained my senses. Rising from my bed I dressed and poured some water into a basin. The cold water had the desired effect and feeling a little better I went downstairs to the empty sitting room and rang for Mrs. Hudson. The landlady, looking haggard and melancholy promptly appeared bearing a tray upon which was a large pot of coffee and a rack of toast. Her attempt at conversation was largely ignored and she quickly withdrew. I sat in the window sipping a coffee and looking out upon Baker Street.

“I see that you are more like your old self, Watson,” said a voice from behind me. There, by the fireplace as if he had been there all along stood Sherlock Holmes dressed in his tweeds. I had not heard him come in.

I did not respond.

“I believe that we owe you an explanation.”

“You owe me a great deal more than that,” I murmured under my breath. “You owe me my wife’s life,” I said more loudly.

He went to the decanter which was upon the sideboard and poured us each a large drink.

“Here drink this, Watson. It will help steady your nerves.”

“Get on with it, Holmes,” I said ignoring the drink.

He shrugged and set the glass down beside me. He took a long draught from his own glass and stared into the cold embers of the fireplace.

“As you are well aware, Watson, Colonel Sebastian Moran was just one of several members of Professor Moriarty’s gang to escape the trap which I set and the police so clumsily tripped and it was upon becoming aware of this situation that I took it upon myself, rightfully or wrongfully to employ those modest powers which you credit me with to protect you and your wife. It was while under my nominal care that Mrs. Watson and my cousin Hugh were involved in their mission of mercy on the Chinese ship and it is where she contracted the disease which eventually took her life.”

“As you say, Holmes, I am already aware
of these things. What I do not know is what part you and your brother had in this affair and why you let her die alone in that hospital,” I said bitterly.

“Well, as you already are familiar with much of what happened the night your wife disappeared, it is as good a place as any to begin.”

“As long as we start someplace,” I replied peevishly.

“Patience, Doctor.”

“I think that I have shown extraordinary patience.”

“Touché, Watson. Well after Mrs. Anstruther and the two maids were rendered insensible,” he continued, coolly, “Murphy and the Chinaman left, taking your wife and Dr. Anstruther with them.

“So you have put a name to our lame friend?” I asked.

“Yes, and he was for a time Mycroft’s most trusted contact in Ireland.”

“And what of the Chinaman, was he too an agent of your brother’s?”

“No, in fact he was but recently employed by Colonel Moran.”

“Go on, Holmes.”

“As you will recall, the women described an unusually loud retort when it was thought that Dr. Anstruther was shot. In fact the Chinaman and Murphy fired at each other simultaneously. Murphy was wounded while the unfortunate Chinaman died.

The three of them,” he continued, “Dr. Anstruther, Murphy and your wife then got into the cab which was still waiting and drove off to the hospital as Mrs. Watson had already begun to exhibit signs of the disease. The body of the Chinaman was also bundled into the cab to be disposed of later.”

“A most uncommon cab driver to wait in the presence of such a commotion,” I commented not wishing to dwell for long on my wife’s death.

“Most uncommon indeed,” smiled my friend. “Mycroft has been known to do such things before. When Hugh informed my brother of how the captain of the Chinese freighter had died he decided that steps had to be taken to contain the disease. So we staged the abduction of your wife and neighbour.”

“Staged? What of the blood, the ropes, the ether....?”

“Easily managed with the cooperation of your neighbour and his wife,” he replied.

“I cannot believe that Dr. Anstruther would participate in any assault upon his wife.”

“He realized what was at stake,” said Holmes matter-of-factly, “and besides his wife was not in any way injured.”

“But Holmes, I was there when you talked to Mrs. Anstruther that night and I heard everything that you heard.”

“Mrs. Anstruther said only what she was instructed to say. She is a very brave woman.”

“Of the first water,” I agreed.

“Leaving Dr. Anstruther to tend to the Irishman, Mycroft escorted your wife into a vacant wing of the hospital and to a room which had already been chosen for her.”

“Your brother wastes little time.”

“He could not afford to.

“Leaving your wife in the best medical hands in the country, Mycroft returned to the cab which still contained the two men. Your neighbour had stopped the other’s bleeding and my brother drove them to Murphy’s apartment where Dr. Anstruther agreed to stay and look after his wounds which apparently were not that serious. It was in these rooms that Colonel Moran found them and killed them both.”

“And left the bodies where they could be easily found by you or the police?” I asked.

“Not quite, Watson. It was my brother’s idea to leave the bodies in such visible locations.”

“Why would Mycroft do such a thing?”

“Again it was to throw you off the track my dear fellow.”

“Me!”

He smiled sardonically. “Mycroft knew that if you became aware of your wife’s condition your love for her would naturally cause you to come to her side, and with your connections in literary and medical circles the reason for her illness would become public. My brother felt that panic would ensue should it become known that there was plague in the city.”

“It is my duty as a physician to inform the public in such a situation,” I said.

“Of course it is and perhaps you would be right to do so.....,”

“It is very good of you to say,” I interjected with some contempt.

“However the powers that be have decreed otherwise,” he continued quietly. “It is felt in Whitehall that the Salisbury government would not survive if the news of this disease got out and if it became pandemic there is a fear that there would be mass panic and possible anarchy.”

“That is ridiculous. This is not the 1600’s, things have improved much since then.”

“You think so? The disease is not extinct as you should know Watson. It remains a threat in many of the poorest parts of the globe and remains as virulent and as incurable as ever. Quite understandably this has the government worried.”

“You say this could bring down the government. How?”

“The English public has a
long memory. Even though the last of the great plagues died out over two hundred years ago the mere mention of it would still bring horror to the minds of the population. There are millions of poor people in this country who no doubt feel neglected and disenfranchised as it is. If it is felt that the government is in any way responsible for this there would be a great push for a change in government. A government which would affect change, whether for better housing or health care for the poor it matters little, but the feeling is that it would happen.”

Several minutes passed in silence. “What of the man in Edmonton?”

“The man in Edmonton actually had no connection to this affair, I don’t know why you would think he did,” he said innocently.

“And what
was
Moran’s interest in all this?” I asked without enthusiasm.

“Perhaps we shall never know, however according to
rumours it was he who was responsible for betraying his regiment to the Sepoys during the Mutiny. Your wife’s father may have been witness to such perfidy.”

I got up to leave. “So this whole thing was a ruse. The bodies, the trip t
o Brixham, that ridiculous code, tell me, Holmes, it was you who led the attack on me in Brixham was it not?”

“Yes, and you gave a most admirable account
of yourself.”

“At the time I thought something seemed familiar, but for God’s sake why would you do such a thing?”

“Again this was Mycroft’s idea. It was supposed to be a simple robbery designed to delay your return to London. However I think it is likely that unknown to me Mycroft paid your attackers to give you the severe beating which you suffered. I suppose Mycroft had hoped that the attack would force you to stay in Brixham. It was all I could do to keep them from killing you.”

“So why then did you summon me back to London the next day?”

“I let my conscience get the better of me. I could not leave you in that unfamiliar place in such a condition.”

“Well I should thank you for that I suppose. So everything was designed to keep me out of the way while my wife died alone and in pain in a hospital. And all of this happened with your full knowledge and co-operation.”

“I am afraid so. Mycroft would not be denied.”

I got up from my chair and headed for the door.

“Goodbye, Holmes.” I said and walked down the seventeen steps into the fresh air of Baker Street.