Sherlock Holmes Vs Irene Adler: A Duel of Wits (The Irene Adler Series Book 4)

by San Cassimally

  He saw himself wed to Yolanda, with a brood of well-dressed and clean children playing while she knitted and gently swayed in a rocking chair which he would make for her, with all the love and know-how he possessed. It would be in the verandah of a sheep farm which he would now own. How he would love and protect their offsprings and teach them to love and fear God. Oh how he would worship her and do her every bidding and never give her cause for sadness. If God decreed that she discovered the truth, he hoped that would serve as the proof of his great love for her, and that it would help erase his perfidy. No man would sacrifice a beloved cousin, a brother, for a woman unless he had no choice. The poor victim could not love her half as much as he did. Might he train Bumburra who seemed less dim than his peers to put on an act and spill the beans to Morbick-Cullen? He had the certainty that he would know how to manipulate those child-like idiotic Abos. Unused as they were to intoxication, he would ply them with drink and teach them the value of lies and duplicity. Capital idea this one: when he set out to see the canoe builders, he will tell them his name was Danny. God cannot be entirely against his plan, wicked though he knew it to be, for why else would He give him those sterling ideas? He will shave off his facial growth entirely. Just an extra precaution. Danny did not believe in washing, but he had to have a shave everyday! Immediately after having met the builders, he will naturally allow his beard grow back. To these halfwits all gubbahs looked alike. Morbick-Cullen hates the poor boy and is not going to bend over backwards to find points in his favour. I know that he would like nothing more than to find an excuse to despatch the boy to the Island.

  Mine’s such a clever plan, he congratulated himself, so easy to set up, and I can’t see how it can fail. The boy is strong, and God will help him to survive the harsh conditions. Yes, he will pray for him nightly. Come children, pray for your uncle Danny, cruelly sent to Norfolk Island for a crime he didn’t commit.

  Nathaniel lost no time in laying hands on a blanket and some plates, knives and forks. These he put in a gunny bag and hid in the cracks between some big rocks in Lane Cove, covering it with dried leaves.

  It was not too difficult to arrange to meet Kolimba the carpenter who made canoes, who happened to be Mulga’s cousin. He introduced himself as Danny. Nathaniel said that he was sent by Mulga and told him a hard-luck story of cruelty by Morbick-Cullen and how his dearest wish was to escape from his clutches. Kolimba told him that the gubbah’s reputation was not a secret to him, but warned that it was a dangerous adventure. Death is preferable to living in slavery, “Danny” told him with tears in his eyes. Kolimba said he understood that, and readily offered to help, but when he offered him a case of beer the Kouri man refused. That was not how the Kouri worked. You need a canoe, I make one for you. One day I need something, you give it to me. OK, I’ll give you clothes. No, said Kolimba, I no need clothes now. Maybe next time. When can I expect it? Nathaniel asked. The Kouri man smiled and shrugged. When it is ready. He will never understand how the minds of those savages worked. Lazy sons of bitches who could sit with a stick in a fire, a stupid look on their ugly faces and never a thought going through their thick heads. But did he have any choice? Fuck no!

  Danny and Yolanda never doubted that they would finally overcome all the obstacles now facing them, but there was no logical basis for this hope. They noticed a change in Nathaniel’s behaviour but their conjectures were far off the mark.

  When Kolimba finally informed Nathaniel that the canoe he had ordered was ready for collection, the method of entrapment that he had been seeking for weeks suddenly materialised in front of him: he’d start a rumour.

  ‘Eh, Bill,’ he asked the Cockney boy transported to New South Wales for persistent vagrancy, ‘is it true what The Nose said?’ The Nose was a convict from Birmingham who swore that he never threw a rock at a Peeler, that the charge against him was fabricated.

  ‘And what was it The Nose said?’

  ‘Only that my cousin Danny is having an Abo canoe made for him so he can escape from here.’

  ‘No, I’ve not heard that, mate, but I’ll ask.’ The Nose asked Alunga, Alunga asked Bapp, and finally Morbick-Cullen overheard a conversation implying that Danny Donoghan was planning to do a runner with Yolanda.

  ‘I do not believe it,’ Nathaniel said when questioned by the boss. ‘He tells me everything, he’d never be so foolish. I don’t believe the story. Might I be allowed to mention an idea?’

  ‘Go ahead.’

  ‘Captain Morbick-Cullen sir, why don’t you organise a thorough search. I can guarantee that you will never find a boat, and this will put your mind at rest.’

  A search party was quickly organised, and the cache was located within a day. Further search revealed clothing, kitchen implements, tools, spades and hoes. Because Kouri are not used to the ways of the gubbah, when Kolimba was questioned he revealed that he had been asked to make the canoe for Master Danny. Morbick-Cullen smiled in triumph. Christmas had come early for him.

  Not one of the four ex-convicts ordered by Morbick-Cullen to take Danny to the disused stone shed did so with any relish. No one had a word to say against the nineteen year old. Yolanda ran after them, raining ineffectual blows on the reluctant jailers who warded them off good-naturedly. The shed had a massive door which locked from outside making escape impossible. In any case, where would he escape to? Stories of foolish escapees starving to death after getting lost in the outback were known to everybody. The master had further instructed the men to put a chain round the boy’s legs and tie it to an iron hook embedded in a wall. Yolanda was disconsolate, whereas Nathaniel put on a tragic face whilst keeping his joy to himself.

  Morbick-Cullen immediately sent word to Port Jackson about this candidate for twice-conviction, now ready for shipment to Norfolk Island. Nathaniel found Yolanda leaning against a gum tree unable to stop her tears, stamping the ground in desperation. He sat next to her and put his arms round her as if to comfort her, but she pushed him away. Why, he protested, we are both losing someone we love dearly, only I can comfort you, and you, me. Yolanda looked at him obliquely. ‘No, Nathaniel, you don’t need comfort. I can see inside your wicked heart, it is overflowing with joy. But I swear to you that never in this life will I submit to you ever again. If you insist I will throw myself from the cliff and drown myself. With my Danny gone, I’ll have nothing to live for.’ Nathaniel had no illusions about Yolanda’s true feelings for him. But surely, he thought, now that she’s losing the boy, she will have no option but to fall in my arms if I wait long enough. He shrugged philosophically and walked away like a chided dog. Cheer up laddie, bide your time. When the winds push away the black clouds, the sun will come through again.

  Irene was surprised when she learnt what the kerfuffle had been about. She had obviously understood the situation about the two cousins and the Gypsy, and had even discussed it with Holmes who had seemed uninterested. When she explained about the bark canoe, he suggested that she asked “your friend Bilongong”. The tone in which this was said made her smile, as she gathered fresh evidence of jealousy on the part of her supposedly well-insulated mentor. Indeed Bilongong was a respected elder and the younger members of the tribe would have kept him informed of anything unusual.

  She sought him out and found him leaning against a pile of wood, smoking a Makassar bamboo pipe. Irene sat down next to him and he immediately offered her the pipe. She inhaled the dhambaku briefly and pretended that she liked it.

  ‘Miss Smith not like it much, no?’ She shrugged. She was aware of the Kouri man’s lack of artifice and so immediately asked him what he knew about the canoe and Danny’s involvement in it. The Kouri man shook his head pensively. No, he mumbled, I never hear nothing before yesterday. ‘Isn’t that strange?’ asked Irene. Very strange, because they tell me everything. She suggested that secrecy was necessary in this case, as clearly Danny would not want everybody to know what he was planning to do. But I will find out, he promised.

  Sylvia was something of a romantic,
and had always experienced a vicarious thrill when Yolanda told her of her love for Danny. She rarely came across the boy, but from the little she saw, she had grown to like him. She had questioned Yolanda about their plans to escape and she had vehemently denied it. Half convinced of the boy’s innocence, she had pleaded with her husband to look into the matter properly, only to earn herself a rebuke. She had thought it best to drop the matter. The only thing she could do was to make sure that he got sent adequate nourishment pending his departure to Norfolk Island. She would have liked to entrust the delivery of the food to Yolanda, but Arnold had expressly forbidden this, and she feared his wrath. The task befell to Nerida, a sweet teenager who acted as kitchen maid.

  Sitting beside a wood fire with a stick doing nothing for a whole hour, Bilongong had worked out a strategy. He would approach Nerida give her some questions to ask Danny. The kitchen maid happily reported his answers: No, he had no idea about any canoe. No, he was not planning to escape with Yolanda, although he would have liked to. No, he could not imagine that anybody would try and frame him. Bilongong told Irene that he was convinced that the boy was telling the truth. Therefore someone was framing him. That was enough for her.

  That Arnold Morbick-Cullen might have been that person seemed a pretty logical deduction to make. She had not taken to their host, finding him sullen and devoid of charm. When she mentioned this to Sherlock, he admitted that he had never given this much thought. Though he was a master of observation of details concerning inanimate things, able to spot a speck of dust on someone’s jacket, be it so minuscular, he was surprisingly lacking in the understanding of human patterns of behaviour, unless he was specifically searching for something. He could not say that he had found Morbick-Cullen’s comportment of the slightest interest, but now that Miss Adler mentioned this, he would pay more attention henceforth. For her part, Irene had long known that the Gypsy girl Yolanda had to juggle the two cousins, but the scarcity of females in the penal colonies often gave rise to such situations.

  She asked Sylvia about this, and she laughed. Yes, it was a common and inevitable occurrence. Yolanda had confided to her about her abhorrence of having to submit to the older cousin.

  ‘Could he have framed the boy?’

  ‘No, absolutely not. He is very protective of his younger relative.’

  ‘Do you know of somebody else who might be-’

  ‘You mean Arnold?’ No, Irene said, she hadn’t thought of that.

  ‘Perhaps you should, I know he wouldn’t dare cheat on me, but it hasn’t escaped my notice that he is attracted to the darling little thing. I can however vouchsafe for him, he’s an honourable man.’ After a short pause, she looked at Irene obliquely and whispered, ‘You must admit that she is cute though.’ Irene laughed. ‘Really?’

  Sherlock set out on his own one morning making for the spot where the canoe was found. Although Arnold Morbick-Cullen had said that he aimed to destroy it, it had been left there for the time being. The man from Baker Street removed the dried leaves and grass covering it and pulled it up, it was surprisingly light. He marvelled at the craftsmanship. Suddenly he heard the giggles of some piccaninnies. There were eight of them, all covered in red earth from top to bottom. He surprised himself by how easy it was to communicate with them. In London, on the rare occasions when he was faced with young children- his motto being that if children absolutely needed to be seen, the least they could do was to ensure that they were not heard- he tended not engage with them. There was this demure Londoner, in the middle of the Australian bush, and his first reaction to these urchins was to put his thumbs in his ears, open wide his eyes and mouth, pull out his tongue, and flutter his fingers like butterflies. When this produced polite laughter, he was mightily pleased. Then he played at monkeys, crouching on his knees, hands drooping with his fingers made into cones and jumping up and down about like the apes at Regent Park. This time his antics were greeted by shrieks and hysterics. Suddenly he realised that there were no apes in Australia, which meant that the children had never seen monkeys. Go figure. The kids came to him and began pulling him by the hands, and he found this very agreeable. If I told this to Mycroft, he’d never believe me, he thought. He picked one of the smallest child in the group, a sweet-looking little girl of about four, lifted her and gently tossed her up in the air, making her scream with pretend fright, which was in truth sublime delight.

  An eight-year old boy who knew a few words of English, but using lots of signs as well, asked him if he liked the canoe, and he said yes, of course he did. Can I get one? Holmes asked, and the boy told his young companions who shrieked with mirth on hearing what the gubbah said. My father is the greatest canoe maker in the land, the boy explained. Then I want to meet him, the sabbatical detective said. Thus it was that he was brought to Kolimba. The latter revealed that it was indeed Danny who had ordered the canoe. What was he like? the gubbah asked, and Kolimba, with the help of interpreters explained that he was a white man, and pointed to one of their numbers who was of average height and bulk. Did he have a beard? No, he was clean-shaven.

  ‘Did you know Danny before?’ Holmes asked. He shook his head. No, his cousin Mulga was Danny’s friend. He imparted this knowledge to Irene, and told her that unfortunately it seemed like an open and shut case. Danny was indeed the man who ordered the canoe. Irene would not give up. Could she meet Mulga?

  The teenage Kouri boy was quite lacking in artificiality. Yes, he was a friend of the gubbah master. At first he never told him his name, he was a white gubbah. Just call me Master, he had said. He was very kind to him, offering him beer. After they had shared some beers, one day he said to call him Master Danny. He liked beer very much, he explained, it made him feel the sky was not going to fall on his head. Yes, he always felt anxious, but the gubbah’s beer made him happy. He told his cousin Kolimba that Master Danny was kind to him, and that he wanted a canoe. He hoped he didn’t do anything wrong? What was he like? Holmes asked suddenly. Why, like any gubbah. White, a bit fat here, he said showing his stomach. Plenty gold hair on his head, but none on his chin.

  It was then that Holmes mentioned what he called an outlandish theory to Irene. He thought that maybe the boy’s cousin, what was his name? Nathaniel, said Irene. Yes, that Nathaniel might have planned it for the very purpose of framing the boy because of the woman. He too had been asking questions, and the complicated relationship had emerged from the answers he got.

  As they were making their way back, suddenly Holmes stopped. But the fellow said he was a bit thick round the waist, and he thought Danny was quite slim. Irene too had been wondering about that, but Mulga had said the boy was clean-shaven whilst Nathaniel’s facial growth was unkempt.

  ‘Ah, yes, but-’

  ‘I know what you’re going to say...’

  They agreed that if Nathaniel had indeed planned everything, he could easily have shaved off his beard for the occasion. So they checked. They asked Bill, a Cornish lad who was transported for having stolen a sheep and who was friendly with the two cousins. Yes, he immediately confirmed that a few weeks ago Nat had shaved his beard off completely. He said that he had lice, he laughed. But he allowed it to grow again. This was enough to convince them of Danny’s innocence. But what was there to do? The innocent Danny was waiting in his cellar to be taken to Port Jackson for subsequent removal to the notorious Island. Yolanda was giving Nathaniel the cold shoulder. However, luck was on the poor boy’s side. Captain Morbick-Cullen happened to be away in Winston Hills buying a small herd of cattle.

  Irene and Holmes had a quick meeting and took the decision to free the prisoner, put him and Yolanda on the canoe, instructing them to make for the Parramatta. Holmes had given him a letter to Frederick Kell, one of Mycroft’s protégé, whose farm there was thriving. Kell would look after them for a few days and then arrange for them to catch the train to Port Jackson.

  Irene and Holmes were outside, enjoying the cool winter sunshine, when the soldiers came with a warrant to arrest Danny. The
men in uniform naturally addressed Holmes. Mulga, who had recently started working at Sunshine Farm, and who was sawing some wood heard that. Nathaniel Donovan was quietly smoking a pipe under a tree.

  ‘Mulga, will you take the officers to Danny Donoghan,’ Holmes ordered the youngster.

  That’s Danny Donoghan, Mulga said, pointing at Nathaniel. The latter stood up, not understanding the situation, an ingratiating smile on his face. Before he could say anything, the burly sergeant punched him on the mouth, and two young recruits seized him, paying no heed to his protestations, and took him away. A mute and desperate appeal from the fellow to Holmes and Adler remained unacknowledged.

  When Morbick-Cullen came back next day, Sherlock explained that the Law had come to take Danny to the Island, and that in the ensuing melee, Nathaniel and Yolanda had escaped to Illiwarra.

  ‘You can’t trust anybody, Smith,’ he said.

  V

  Anatomy of A Jewel Robbery

  Cophrussi Brothers, the Hatton Gardens diamond merchants got their stones directly from Kimberley. At a preferential rate, since their cousins were in partnership with Cecil Rhodes and the Barnatos who had opened up the industry in Southern Africa. Which meant that their profits were considerably higher than those of their competitors. They had branches in Antwerp and Amsterdam. It was well-known that Rhodes had used his influence in the government to evict the local population from potentially diamond-studded areas to enrich the De Beers Group. The Club des As viewed them with repugnance, and it was their aim to strike at them one day. They knew that any action they might take would be like taking a bucket of sea water from the ocean, but as a symbolic gesture, it would greatly fill them up with glee, and their pockets with useful cash. Would a man imprisoned inside a cave with a ten ton boulder blocking the exit think twice before hammering on it with his puny fists? Futile gestures are not always easy to resist.