The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes

by Paul Gilbert

  ‘I will certainly do my best, Mr Holmes,’ Miss Lomas replied. Before beginning her story she took a long grateful sip of her coffee. Her pale cheeks suddenly started to redden with suppressed emotion as she began her narrative.

  ‘The Alicia was the last of the full-rigged cutters ever to set sail out of the harbour at Leigh. As such she commanded a certain sentimental respect from all who worked at the yard. Every time she put out of harbour, old sailors sitting on the boards, repairing their nets and tackle, would put down their work, for a moment, doff their caps or wave their scarves as she majestically glided by. I mention this, Mr Holmes,’ Miss Lomas clearly sensed Holmes’s growing impatience, ‘because no number of newspaper articles can do full justice to the great sense of deprivation felt by the whole community at the loss of the Alicia.

  ‘I am quite certain that this popular demonstration of grief has been a contributing factor behind the maltreatment and incarceration of our father. Men who have known my father well over many years have, seemingly, turned against him and even participated in the heckling and ridicule of him on the day that he was led away.’ Miss Lomas was barely able to complete the sentence before she gave way to her emotions and began sobbing uncontrollably.

  Despite the gentleness of his earlier treatment of Miss Lomas, Holmes now found it quite impossible to cope with her tearful display of grief. Consequently he waved me, distractedly, towards the stricken woman and I was successful in stilling her by administering hot coffee while her brother applied soft soothing strokes to her forehead with a dampened sponge. After repeatedly blowing her nose and then apologizing profusely, Miss Lomas felt ready to continue with her remarkable tale.

  ‘Mr Holmes, in view of the tendency that the popular press has towards distortion and embellishment, I think it best that I lay before you the bare facts pertaining to the loss of the Alicia, as they are understood by the local people. You will then better understand why our father’s somewhat differing interpretation of events has caused such a furore within the community.’ Holmes smiled and nodded his affirmation.

  ‘Because of her age and yet despite confirmation of her continued seaworthiness, the Alicia’s range had been reduced in recent years, to cross-channel runs and occasional excursions to northern Spain. Her last voyage, as it subsequently proved to be, was to have been one of the former. She was carrying a cargo of coke, oil and twine and a small crew mastered by Captain Johnson, a man well used to piloting those waters. The weather was set fair, so a larger crowd than was usual congregated to watch her negotiate the estuary until she disappeared from view and out into the open sea.

  ‘Mr Holmes, we thought nothing more of her until word came, from Dieppe, that the Alicia had not arrived, in accordance with her appointed schedule. This was inexplicable to us. There had been no wind to speak of, that might have blown her off course. The vessel and her company had made this very journey a thousand times before! There would have been no rocks or other obstacles that she might have encountered along her route; indeed, the size of her hull and the brevity of the voyage would have meant that she would have to have been shipping water not long after leaving harbour for her to have sunk in mid-channel.

  ‘Consequently, the only reasonable explanation for her inexplicable loss was a collision with another vessel. The recent inclement weather had led to patches of grey mist floating haphazardly over the Channel. Collisions in these conditions are not unknown although, mercifully, quite rare. Therefore the owner of the vessel, Mr Nathaniel Garside, a successful local businessman and communal benefactor, dispatched a small flotilla of local craft with instructions to search along the Alicia’s projected course for traces of wreckage and, the Lord willing, to pick up any survivors. The harbour master at Dieppe dispatched a similar group of craft on the same mission, in fact some craft even converged upon the same mid-Channel location, but, despite all their efforts, all boats returned to their respective ports in empty-handed despair. After this operation was repeated on the following day, with the same unfortunate result, all hope was deemed to be lost. Mr Garside was left distraught at the loss of his vessel and the families of the crew members were rendered inconsolable.

  ‘The loss of the Alicia appeared destined to become logged amongst one of the great unsolved nautical mysteries until my father decided to speak up.’

  All this while Holmes had been sitting with his eyes tight shut in a state of intense concentration. He said not a word and moved not a muscle and so bizarre was his appearance that Miss Lomas was prompted to pause for a moment, raising a questioning glance in my direction, as to whether Holmes was even awake. Holmes answered her doubts himself by suddenly jumping up from his chair and fumbling for a match with which to relight his pipe.

  ‘Miss Lomas,’ he began, ‘I must congratulate you. To a man as ignorant as myself of nautical matters, your narrative has proved both informative and stimulating. However, to a student of all that is extraordinary and, seemingly, unsolvable your tale is both gratifying and tantalizing. On the surface, the events and circumstances that you have described are impossible to accept. Therefore I must urge you to describe to me your unfortunate father’s version of what took place.’

  ‘Mr Holmes, I do not seek either your congratulations or your gratification.’ Miss Lomas’s cheeks were flushed as she admonished Holmes for his strange vocabulary. ‘However you refer to my father as “unfortunate” which seems to indicate that you already regard him as a victim of injustice. This fills me with fresh hope.’

  ‘My dear young lady, you must not take offence at my poor use of the English language. Equally, it would be unwise to build up what may prove to be false hopes at this early stage. Let us just say that I will not prejudge anything that you tell me until I am in full possession of the facts.’ Holmes smiled as he waved her to continue.

  All this while Edward Lomas had been sitting in passive silence, upright with both hands flat upon his knees. He now placed his arm comfortingly about his sister’s shoulder. When he spoke it was with a strong, educated tone that belied his youthful, fresh-faced countenance.

  ‘Mr Holmes, my dearest Mildred, I think it best that I continue with the remainder of our story. My sister might find it difficult to contain her emotions as we must inevitably touch upon an unfortunate weakness in our father’s nature.’ Miss Lomas smiled gratefully at her brother and nodded her agreement to his suggestion.

  Edward Lomas betrayed his discomfiture by repeatedly clearing his throat. Holmes offered him a cigarette, which Lomas gratefully accepted.

  ‘Well, gentlemen, there is no point in beating around the bush. In common with many men of the sea our father has a fondness for rum that manifests itself when he is landbound for any length of time. However his penchant for the camaraderie of the local inns often precludes all else and it has cost him many a lucrative voyage, of late. When he remains indoors he is an intelligent and kindly man and a good and loving father. I should mention also that we lost our poor mother some years ago to the tuberculosis. When once at his cups, however, it is impossible to persuade him to come home and he will spend most of his time and what little money he might have on rum for himself and his old shipmates, who take advantage of his misguided generosity and ridicule him for his jovial nature. He is now more renowned for his singing and amusing tales than ever he was for his abilities aboard ship.

  ‘Gentlemen, it is precisely because of his reputation as a “rummy” that his claim to have witnessed the last moments of the Alicia before she was lost was never taken seriously. Night after night he would repeat his tale to whoever he could find to listen to him. These persons, however, became progressively fewer, and soon folk began to find his assertions offensive rather than amusing. Those who had lost loved ones when the Alicia went down, employees of Mr Garside, even strangers who knew nothing of him, began clamouring to have him removed from the various taverns he was accustomed to frequent. Eventually he resorted to drinking alone at home and at least there, Mildred and I might enjoy
some success in weaning him from his poison.’

  At this point I paused from my frantic taking of notes and raised my hand to stop Lomas in mid-narrative.

  ‘Forgive my interruption, Mr Lomas, but I do not understand how your father’s addiction to alcohol could possibly lead to his incarceration on the grounds of insanity. Indeed, would not his reputation for drinking have saved him from such a fate? Surely his assertions, which everyone seemed to find so strange and offensive, would have been put down to rum rather than brain fever?’ I suggested, whilst noting Holmes’s look of surprised admiration at my timely interruption.

  ‘Indeed, Dr Watson, and that surely would have been the case were it not for the fact that he continued to make these claims even after our success in sobering him. In fact he began to restate his claims with increased insistence and detail, and began to force these upon the local authorities. He became something more than just the local nuisance and once the police became involved it was only a matter of time before action was taken against him. When he was brought before the local assizes we implored him to desist from these claims of his, but he was insistent and was still yelling them out up to the moment when he was forcibly removed. The last time we saw him he implored that my sister and I, at least, should believe in him. He was locked away in the knowledge that we did and, indeed still do. Now we ask that you help us to clear his name.’

  ‘I can make no such promise at this stage,’ Holmes replied. ‘However, if you inform me, as exactly as you can, of the claim your father is making, together with the name of the arresting officer, I promise to be on the first available train to Leigh-on-Sea with that express intention, I hope with my friend and colleague Dr Watson in close attendance.’

  ‘I should be honoured,’ I answered in reply to the three expectant glances cast towards me.

  ‘Thank you, gentlemen,’ Lomas said with much relief, whereupon Holmes passed him another cigarette.

  ‘Our father was returning from a night’s fishing trip aboard a small sailing dinghy he used from time to time. On this occasion he was after some dab for our Friday supper and having had little success within the estuary, found himself drifting out towards the open sea. From these depths he pulled out a substantial haul, enough for our supper and leaving him with a surplus to sell on the quayside. By the time that he turned for home it was almost dawn and he was celebrating his catch by way of a small flask containing rum. In the distance he saw a familiar shape moving in the opposite direction. It was, of course, the Alicia. He saluted her by raising his flask aloft, then, remembering how small was the cargo she was supposed to have been carrying, was immediately struck by how low in the water she was sitting.’

  Holmes made a gesture towards my notebook. ‘Note that well, Watson; it is, I am sure, of the utmost significance.’ Then he waved towards Lomas to continue.

  ‘Our father, full of curiosity, promptly turned about and continued watching the Alicia’s progress out into the North Sea. This he was only able to do for a short while, because every so often patches of mist drifted across her course. One such patch of mist appeared on the Alicia’s port side, a patch notable for its large size and density and, to our father’s amazement the Alicia suddenly changed course and began tacking directly towards it!

  ‘Within a few minutes she was completely engulfed. Our father sat there, transfixed by this most singular navigational decision, and awaited the Alicia’s emergence at the mist’s furthest extremity, which was clearly in his field of vision. Based on her previous rate of knots, he expected this to occur within but a few moments. However, he sat there eagerly consuming his rum for close to half an hour, before realizing, in a state of great agitation, that she must have met with disaster. For she never appeared from the far side of that mist!

  ‘It was inconceivable that she could have brought herself to a halt within such a short distance. It was equally improbable that she was a victim of a collision, those waters are particularly well charted and have long been deemed as safe from all manner of obstacles. Any second vessel would have been clearly visible, from our father’s vantage point, before having entered the mist from its opposite side. The only remaining explanation was that the hull had been accidentally holed, at a time prior to the Alicia’s encounter with the mist. Yet such was the shape and depth of her hull, for her to have sunk so close to harbour would have meant her being holed before setting off from Leigh. No captain with Richard Johnson’s experience would have allowed that to happen. You see the whole thing is impossible!!’ Lomas suddenly and violently exclaimed. He paused for a moment while he calmed himself by taking deep breaths.

  ‘I apologize, gentlemen, for my unseemly outburst, but you see, when put like that, my father’s claims do seem to verge towards the fanciful. The accepted version of events, that the Alicia met with a mid-channel collision, is the only one that makes any sense and yet—’

  ‘Yet you find yourself believing your father, and I shall begin my investigation based on the premise that he was speaking the absolute truth. What action did he take next?’ Holmes asked in his most calming of tones.

  ‘Bless you, Mr Holmes, for believing in our poor father, although I would not have wondered had you not. Our father now reset his sail and turned his small craft about, towards the Alicia’s last visible position. He had hoped to pick up any survivors, but there was none. No survivors and no bodies! Mr Holmes, there was not even the smallest piece of wreckage to be found. It was as if the ship had never even existed. A vessel of her size cannot just sink without cause or trace. Yet all he could find, despite his diligent efforts, was a small stretch of hauling rope with a most strangely frayed end.

  ‘Distraught and defeated he set sail for home once more and having reached shore spent the next forty-eight hours drinking himself into a stupor. By the time he had emerged from this word had already been received from Dieppe, the search flotillas been dispatched and had returned empty-handed. As my sister has previously explained, by this time our father’s version of events seemed like the ramblings of a drunken lunatic to the townsfolk, who were feeling such a grievous loss. Mr Holmes, there is nothing more that we can tell you. Can you give us any hope?’ Lomas was now leaning forward expectantly.

  ‘The case against your father certainly seems to be a strong one,’ Holmes responded gravely. ‘Although the local authorities seemed to be somewhat prejudiced in their refusal to accept the possibility that the Alicia had set sail with a hole in her hull. Assuming that this premise is correct, however, then your case is raised up to an entirely different level altogether! I am equally curious about a haul rope with a frayed end.’ Then, almost talking to himself, Holmes continued quietly: ‘Yes, it is most perplexing, unless …’

  ‘Unless what, Holmes?’ I queried.

  ‘Watson! Look at the time!’ Holmes suddenly exclaimed, clapping his hands together excitedly. ‘We cannot expect these young people to return to the Essex coast at such an hour. I insist that you both stay the night and we shall all journey to Leigh-on Sea together on tomorrow’s first available train.’

  ‘We could not possibly so impose upon you,’ Lomas objected, having exchanged a glance with his sister.

  ‘Nonsense! As Watson will assure you, we have endured far less comfortable sleeping arrangements than our own sitting room! I shall have Mrs Hudson make up your beds at once.’

  There was not a further word of argument and whilst I was bundled on to the settee, to make way for Miss Lomas, Holmes was more than pleased to take to his favourite chair for the night and vacate his room for her brother. Although my army training allowed me to fall asleep even under the most trying of conditions, what sleep I did take was most fitful. I was disturbed to note that, on each occasion that I awoke, my friend was still seated upright smoking heavily from his pipe, clearly with no inclination to fall asleep himself. During one such moment I interrupted his deep meditation with a softly whispered question.

  ‘Holmes, clearly you have already formulated a germ of
a theory that would not have occurred to another living soul. Whilst I would not expect you to divulge its nature to me at this early stage, I strongly feel that there is an ulterior motive behind your invitation to the Lomases other than mere hospitality. Would you not, at the least, explain to me what that might be?’

  Holmes turned slowly towards me, eyeing me quizzically whilst arching one eyebrow. He removed the pipe from his lips before replying in a hushed tone that was barely audible.

  ‘Your inclination towards cynicism is matched only by your faculty for deduction, friend Watson. However, it is true to say that I am positive that there are certain interested parties in Leigh whom I would much prefer not to have prior notice of our coming. Whilst I am sure the Lomases would not have divulged this fact mischievously, they are, none the less, simple folk who might, inadvertently, have compromised our element of surprise. Now, our Bradshaw indicates an early departure from Fenchurch Street, so I would advise you to sleep rather than indulge in premature speculation.’ Without another word Holmes relit his pipe and returned to his previous pose, leaving me to lull myself back to sleep with the type of idle theorizing that he would have despised.

  Our early arrival, at the station the following morning allowed us the time for a light breakfast that Holmes had not permitted us to take at Baker Street. Our young guests seemed somewhat the worse for wear, no doubt a consequence of their unexpected overnight stay and the draining experience of relating their heart-rending tale, so they were extremely glad of this refreshment. There was an anticipatory silence in our carriage throughout the relatively short journey and we had actually arrived at the picturesque fishing village before a single word was spoken.

  ‘I shall rejoin you by this evening!’ Holmes announced to our complete astonishment. He promptly jumped back on to the train just as it had begun to pull away from the platform.

  The Lomases turned to me, dismayed and bemused by Holmes’s unexpected and sudden departure.