The Giant Rat of Sumatra

by Richard L. Boyer

  ‘And now would be as good a time as any to explore the question of why Baskerville took the bother and expense – to say nothing of the risk – of buying and transporting the animal itself, the giant rat, halfway round the world.’

  ‘He was intrigued by animals. He also had an infamous talent for transforming even gentle ones into killers,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, but there’s a deeper reason behind his initial decision to buy the beast and stow it aboard the Briggs, Watson. Shortly after listening to Sampson’s fantastic story, I did some reading up on rats at the British Museum. To my astonishment, I discovered that although people in general have always loathed them, the most passionate hatred of rats is displayed by sailors. This exists throughout all written history, from the time of Odysseus to the present. This is perhaps magnified by the fact, simple and unavoidable, that there is no escape from rats at sea. Man and beast are locked together in the ship and must share each other’s company, no matter how unpleasant. But I digress...

  ‘Baskerville, and we must never underestimate his cleverness, realized that the tapir he saw on the beaches of Sumatra resembled a huge rat, especially its head. If he could only secure this animal aboard ship and give the crew the impression that it was a giant rat...’

  ‘They would be terrified!’ I cried. ‘They would avoid that part of the ship altogether!’

  ‘Precisely. You see, Baskerville was keenly aware that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to keep his hostage in the after hold for six weeks unnoticed. She might cry out. Jones or Wangi might leave a door ajar, and she would be seen. Furthermore, how to explain the food that must be brought to her? You see, Watson, how the presence of this “giant rat” was a perfect mask for the real crime?’

  I nodded my head slowly. Surely, to quote an old phrase, there was ‘method in his madness’.

  ‘When did you determine the beast was a tapir, and how did you come to know this?’

  ‘I was nearly certain of the animal’s identity early on by a process of elimination. I knew the animal was huge, and resembled a rat, in the head at least. After some research I struck upon the Sumatran tapir. For a time I admit I was put off the scent by the complete unanimity of the authorities on the tapir that it is a placid and nocturnal herbivore. But I have since found evidence that the recent catastrophic explosion of Krakatoa, an island off the Sumatran coast, has had extraordinary effects upon the habits and behaviour of many animal species throughout the area. The tapir is not found in captivity, so it’s no wonder that superstitious sailors took it for a giant rat. Since Baskerville was anxious that the head be seen, but not the body, we can assume that he indeed wished everyone aboard the Briggs to think there was such a beast on board.’

  ‘Then why was it taken aboard in secrecy?’

  ‘As you’ve probably suspected, Alice Allistair was in the crate along with the rat. Not in the same compartment, of course, because they had partitioned it. But she was swung aboard with the monster, and confined in the same dingy hold with it for the entire voyage. You recall Winkler’s mention of Jones “sneaking food aft”? Remember the food was in two bundles, one thrice the other’s size?’

  ‘Of course, the large bundle for the animal, the small one for Alice. Lord, to be shut up with that beast for eight weeks, the horror, the cruelty of it!’

  ‘Quite so. She was no doubt in terror every second of the long voyage. It is remarkable she still has her wits. Surely a girl of lesser character and will would have succumbed long ago –’

  ‘She is not yet fully recovered,’ I said in a professional tone.

  ‘I can see that. Well, to return to our investigation. Upon visiting the Matilda Briggs, I uncovered two pieces of evidence which gave further credence to my embryonic theory: the candle stub and the message in candle smoke. Simply stated, both together told me that someone posing as Jenard – but definitely not Jenard – was giving us a clue as to the nature of the real crime behind the so-called giant rat. In a hasty, almost childish, bit of verse –’

  ‘All is stairs and passageways where the rat sleeps, his treasure keeps –’

  ‘Yes, now it’s painfully obvious that the first three words, minus the middle and final “s”, spell Allistair –’

  ‘By Jove, it never occurred to me!’

  ‘Well it did to me,’ he remarked with some scorn. ‘In any event, the message gave a good deal of weight to my supposition that Alice Allistair was, or had been, aboard the vessel. The crucial point is that someone was attempting to give the impression that Jenard had written the words as a warning to the world. Both yourself and Lestrade interpreted the words this way. However, we knew by the candle butt that Jenard couldn’t have written them. Why then was the message written at all?’

  Holmes paused to refill his glass.

  ‘Barsac, the sweetest of the Sauternes... it’s almost cloying...’

  ‘Dash it, Holmes! Get on with the story!’

  ‘Someone wished to cast me on to the scent of the Allistair kidnapping, yet wished to do so as Jenard.

  ‘You see, if Jenard had intended to give warning of the rat, why not do so plainly? Clearly, the cryptic warning was meant to arouse my interest, for whoever wrote it was certain I’d decipher it. Evidently that person knew me well. In short, Watson, I suspected a trap, an ensnarement aimed at me.’

  ‘You knew it was Baskerville?’

  ‘No. I didn’t even suspect it could be him until after our luncheon at the Binnacle. You’ll recall that both Scanlon and Thomas mentioned “Reverend Ripley’s” fascination with petrels and plankton...’

  ‘Yes. I thought it curious you were so interested in that...’

  ‘Details, Watson. Details! Of course you remember Baskerville’s naturalistic bent, especially his fondness for collecting butterflies. Well, I had an inkling it could be him, since who else should wish to ensnare me? Moriarty is dead for several years, and others who have vowed my death are behind bars. I sent a wire to Exeter, and the reply I got was “no absolute proof”. No one, then, had found Baskerville’s body. He could still be alive. Considering the general cunning of the man, I went on this assumption. It would be natural for him to plan an escape if things went wrong. Besides, who could be a likelier candidate to train a giant rat than the man who had trained the giant hound?’

  ‘The pieces certainly fit,’ said I.

  ‘But where was this rat? It was not still aboard the Briggs. Had it been killed and dumped into Blackwall Reach, or somehow smuggled into London? When our trail led to the livery stable, and we there discovered that a large wagon had been bought, my suspicions grew that the animal had been slipped ashore. Remember the gold coins paid to the smith? They were Indian. Thus another link was established between the abduction of Alice Allistair from Bombay and the Matilda Briggs.

  ‘The filing of the iron fence, the splotch of grease upon the quay, the frenzied behaviour of the hounds – all these told me of the loading of the rat on to the wagon in the early hours of the morning.’

  ‘But how did the rat – the tapir – get from the ship to the quay?’

  ‘The tapir is an aquatic animal, similar in this respect to the hippopotamus. It was a simple matter, after the tapir had finished with McGuinness, to open the lumber port, drive the beast down into the water – there being only a six-foot drop – and guide it to shore as it swam alongside the Briggs’ dinghy.’

  ‘Then they loaded it into the wagon,’ I said, ‘at the low point of the quay, made their way through the fence, replaced the cut section, and headed along the side streets...’

  ‘But you remember, Watson, when we strolled about with the dogs, that I mentioned the “upstream events”, things that appeared implausible. The first was, as we’ve discussed, the disposal of Jenard’s body. But you also might recall the fact that Nip and Tuck showed us that the three of us had been followed to the Binnacle from the Briggs.’

  ‘I remember. You stated that this was not normal behaviour for a criminal – to pursu
e the pursuers...’

  ‘No, not normal for the average criminal. But when I considered the effrontery that this criminal was displaying, I was convinced it was Baskerville; it could be nobody else.’

  ‘This brashness seems a hallmark of his,’ I admitted. ‘I remember in the earlier case he even impersonated you...’

  ‘... but why did Baskerville follow us, perhaps even into the inn, if not to determine for himself that I had taken the bait, that I had become so engrossed in the case that I would follow it anywhere?’

  ‘Ah, and from this point you knew it was a trap!’

  ‘Certainly. Hence my apprehension, and warnings to you not to leave our flat unarmed.’

  ‘And what were Baskerville and his henchmen doing in the interim?’

  ‘After determining that I was indeed on the case, as hooked, you might say, as those three trout, he departed the city in the wagon, leaving Jones behind –’

  ‘For what purpose?’

  ‘To deliver the ransom note to the Allistairs’ residence, for one. Also to keep an eye on the both of us and report developments to Baskerville, who was settling himself into Henry’s Hollow, preparing for the ransoming and our execution...’

  I shuddered.

  ‘It was Jones, of course, who followed me at Paddington. I remained in London, by the way, only long enough to give the impression I was remaining in the city. Actually, of course, I lost him soon thereafter and later in the day returned to the station where I caught the 2:45 to Shrewsbury –’

  ‘You were out here then?’

  ‘My dear Watson, where else would I be? Back at our flat playing my fiddle whilst you faced the danger alone? I made Shrewsbury my headquarters. Any wires you sent to me in London were re-routed by Lestrade’s men back to me, thence to you via the city office –’

  ‘Then this explains the delay in messages,’ said I. ‘Were you ever in the Rutlidge telegraph office?’

  ‘Yes, now that you mention it. On the night of your arrival –’

  ‘And were you not dressed as a gypsy?’

  ‘Quite so, good for you, Watson! Yes, it was quite a game of cat and mouse with Baskerville. You see, I knew I had to be on the scene to get the necessary information. Yet, if any of them discovered me near Strathcombe when I was supposed to be in London, the game would have been up in an instant – I was forced to be extremely furtive, and adopted the gypsy dress...’

  ‘I can understand your secrecy with Baskerville,’ I said in a hurt tone, ‘but why was I not informed?’

  ‘Simple: neither you nor Lord Allistair is a good actor, Watson. This is because deceit is not in your natures. To apprise you of my plans would have rendered them useless. Your actions would have given us away in an instant. Baskerville would either fly or kill the girl. It has been a nerve-racking business. But I was hereabouts as much as I dared, keeping a lookout. Incidently, it might interest you to know that it was I who was watching you from the Keep. Never at any time were you more than a mile from us –’

  ‘Us?’

  ‘Either Farthway or myself. We kept in constant touch, even after my “official arrival” at the lodge. This explains the semaphore lamp too. A capital idea of Farthway’s, don’t you think? His cottage being directly below my room, and the lamp pointing towards the forest, it was thus a simple matter for Lestrade, Farthway, and me to be in constant communication...’

  ‘This grows wearying,’ said I, reaching for the bottle. ‘So Farthway was your cohort, and our guardian. This explains his odd behaviour –’

  ‘Yes, his early morning jaunts, his knowledge of your visit to the Hollow – for he followed you there and back – and his irritation that you’d exposed yourself to danger.’

  ‘... I must apologize to him... I take it then, you sought him out early on, before even our arrival here.’

  ‘Yes indeed, for I heard of his courage and reliability – not to mention the marksmanship to which we owe our lives.’

  ‘Ah. And you wisely summoned Lestrade and Sampson too. The boatswain behaved most admirably – doubtless because he was driven to avenge his dead friend.’

  ‘But despite the help I had, I was unable, unfortunately, to prevent the death of this Compson fellow –’

  ‘You couldn’t be everywhere at once. Now tell me the particulars about what occurred the night before our ordeal.’

  ‘Our night-time errand, as you may have surmised by now, was a last-minute reconnaissance of the enemy’s camp. I was fairly certain the exchange would take place in the Hollow, but a final check was necessary to make sure. We did creep close enough to see the campfire, and the manacles set out in readiness.’

  ‘Why did you not seize them all then?’

  ‘Are you forgetting the girl? No, we could not attempt anything by force with her confined in the cavern –’

  ‘Yes, quite so. But how did you guess the note was to be delivered at dawn?’

  ‘I knew Baskerville would try to spring his trap as soon as possible after the quarry was within range. Because of this, I deliberately made my “arrival” as obvious as possible. Brundage met me at the train, unaware that I had merely taken it down the line a stop – in the dead of night – and back again to Shrewsbury at lunchtime. No doubt one of the confederates saw my arrival as well and passed the word.

  ‘It was no surprise to learn that the ransom note was delivered within hours of my arrival. Once Baskerville learned I was on the scene, he acted at once.’

  ‘It did strike me as curious that you arrived in so noticeable a fashion, almost in defiance of the warning note.’

  ‘The caution to the Allistairs not to seek assistance was clever of Baskerville. For, much as he wished me to come out here, he realized that any note he sent without the standard warning would lack authenticity. He went on the assumption that if my curiosity were sufficiently aroused, I’d come anyway.’

  ‘So you came openly to show him his lure had worked.’

  ‘Yes, I wanted to indulge his sense of his own genius and cunning: to make him feel he’d outwitted me. This, incidently, was another reason I didn’t leave London directly, but played the waiting game.’

  I paused momentarily to wipe my brow.

  ‘Your explanations have proved most illuminating. But I still have a number of questions. What about the fire in Jenard’s lodgings? And were you ever able to decipher the coded message sent to us on the ransom note?’

  ‘I’ll answer these questions as we walk up to the house. We mustn’t be late for the garden party.’

  Holmes packed his fish into the creel, slung his rod over his shoulder, and we walked up the sloping meadow towards Strathcombe.

  ‘Before Lestrade carted him off, I had a long talk with Jones. He was most co-operative. It won’t save him from the rope, I’m afraid, but he’ll swing into eternity in a somewhat better frame of mind. The story Baskerville related to you before my arrival at the Hollow is accurate. The kidnappers smuggled the girl from India in the manner described. By the way, Watson, I was aware of their flight across India. My questions to the British Railways offices proved fruitful.

  ‘Once they had Alice aboard the Matilda Briggs and bound for home their problems seemed over. McGuinness bent to their will, and they had the giant rat to protect their secret. Shortly before arriving in London, however, one crewman, Raymond Jenard, discovered the real secret in the after hold. We’ll never know how he found out, for he didn’t even have the chance to tell his good friend John Sampson about the captive lady, Sampson being engaged elsewhere.

  ‘Jenard, upon going ashore, vowed to notify the authorities. However, he decided to grab a pint at a waterfront tavern beforehand. There, he asked the barkeeper for advice. This barkeeper knows me well – I am bound by oath not to mention his name or the name of his establishment to anyone – and recommended that Jenard walk across town to see me. Is this clear so far?’

  ‘Perfectly.’

  ‘But as fate would have it, Jones was lounging over a mu
g in that same establishment, not ten feet away and hidden behind a pillar. He heard the barkeeper say, “Yes, lad, my friend Sherlock Holmes is the one to seek. You’ll find him at 221B Baker Street – he’s the one to tell about the captive lady...”

  ‘Instantly Jones crouched down in his chair to hide from the departing Jenard, who failed to see him. Just before he reached the door, he turned and said, “Even if I am unable to reach this man, I have it all written down in my diary –” patting his sea bag as he says this. As soon as Jenard was on his way, Jones sped to inform Baskerville that Lady Alice had been discovered.’

  Here Holmes paused to catch his breath. Though his wound had practically healed, the injury manifested itself in early fatigue.

  ‘Leaving Alice bound in one of the cabins – they didn’t worry about the crew since they’d fled the ship – they went to Jenard’s rooms where they expected to intercept him. But he’d already left, headed for our flat. His sea bag was there, but not the diary. They assumed he had the diary with him. But what if he’d hidden it in the flat? Surely Jenard, knowing the true secret of the Matilda Briggs, must die. Eventually, the authorities would search his rooms. What if the diary were hidden there? It is at this point that a spark of Baskerville’s madness boiled to the surface. Since they hadn’t time to search the rooms for a diary that might be there, he decided to set them afire. And so, in a rage of frustration, without regard or even a warning to the other inhabitants of the building, the paraffin lamps, and spare containers also, were emptied on to the rugs, furniture, and curtains –’

  ‘You needn’t complete the story,’ I interjected. ‘You and I know too well the outcome...’

  We stood in silence for a moment, pondering the horror and wanton brutality of it.

  ‘Before the flames had scarcely begun to flicker, the three of them were in a hansom racing for Baker Street, all eyes peeled for Jenard. They tracked him down only a few blocks from his destination, and lured him into the clothier’s doorway. This was accomplished by Baskerville, who, in a disguised voice, called for help. As might be expected, Jenard responded to the call as any decent citizen would. Once inside the doorway, the three of them set upon him. The use of the chloroformed rag – another tie with Baskerville and his butterflies, by the way – ensured a quick and silent end to Raymond Jenard.