"They searched the plantation, and even the neighbouring country, but found nothing and no one. They questioned the under-managers and local workers, who reported nothing suspicious or noteworthy. From that day, 1 February 1887, to the day Trevor penned the letter, the brothers Atkinson had neither been seen nor heard. It was as if they left the house that morning and vanished from the face of the earth."
"Of course, Trevor's account was selective and inconclusive — there was much that I wished to know of the affairs of the
brothers before I might begin to give an opinion on the case. By the time the Eastern Empress docked at the port of Jaffna I was eager to set about my investigations."
"Victor Trevor met me on the quay, and we drove south in his trap to Trincomalee. The passage of time had done little to take the shine off the youth of my university friend, and for the duration of the journey we exchanged information concerning our exploits during the intervening years. I was to stay at the Atkinson's plantation itself, which Trevor was overseeing in the absence of the brothers. It was late by the time we arrived, and I had little time to question my friend as to the details of the case before he suggested that we turn in and discuss the reason for my presence in the morning."
"The miracle of dawn in those climes, Watson! I was up early the following morning to witness the rapid transformation from night to day from my verandah. One minute the land was clothed in darkness, the next a golden sunlight exposed the deep shadows of the valleys and the bright green expanse of the tea bushes. My friend was already risen, and we partook breakfast excellent kippers and poached eggs — around the vast oak table of the dining room."
"I see the brothers Atkinson were fond of a game of cards," I observed, gesturing to the table-top. "Bridge, if I am not mistaken."
"Your powers of deduction are as sharp as ever," Trevor remarked. "Recall how you amazed my father upon that first meeting? Now, an explanation, if you please."
"Simplicity itself: observe the marks of wear upon the polish of the table-top. Note the scuff mark where a hand would be picked up, and the two smaller indentations at either side of where the pack resides at the centre of the table, made when the pack would be lifted at the end of a hand."
"Remarkable."
"Further, three of the four players are right-handed, the fourth not so. This much is obvious from the slight groves in the patina of the polish, worn either to the right or left of the player. You are left-handed, Victor, and I deduce therefore that you were a frequent guest on bridge nights."
"Twice a week for the past two years, Holmes," said he shaking his head.
"I can tell, also, that penny bets were placed upon the outcome of the games. The scratches here and here attest to that."
"At this my friend coloured. 'Why,' he blustered, 'you're right, Holmes. A little wager added interest to the contests.' "
"I am not a gambling man myself," I said. "I find that the scientific analysis of the pursuit results in the fact that one can never win, only break even, except when luck intervenes. And I have never been one to trust in the happy felicity of luck."
"We finished our breakfast, and I asked then to be shown around the house, and expressed the desire to questions the Atkinsons' head house-boy and house-keeper."
"Victor showed me into the lounge, a spacious room affording a magnificent panorama across the sun-soaked terraces of the estate. Hanging above the fireplace was an oil painting of the brothers, tall, flaxen-haired men in the middle-thirties, posing with their rifles on either side of a prostrate tiger."
"I have left everything in place, as found on the morning of the brothers' disappearance. Observe the table and gas-lamp."
"As Trevor had mentioned in the letter, there were no suspicious circumstances to be drawn from the toppled table and lamp. A wind stirring the curtains through the open window might easily have occasioned the damage."
"Were the doors locked upon the night of the disappearance?" I asked.
"It is uncommon in these parts to take the precaution of locking doors. If we trust our staff, then we see no need ..."
"We passed through the house from room to room, and I noticed nothing amiss or noteworthy as we did so. At length we stood upon the verandah and gazed out over the verdant hills of the estate. 'Tell me, Victor — were the brothers in the habit of taking hikes, or taking off on travels without notifying friends and staff?"
"Most certainly not. They had the interests of the estate at heart. They were most conscientious in the running of the business. They would go nowhere without first notifying one of their managers. Twice a year they took a boat up to Madras to call on acquaintances for a week, at Christmas and again six months later at the end of June.' "
"So therefore their disappearance in February cannot have been simply a trip to Madras?"
"Of course not! We checked this possibility at the shipping office in Trincomalee."
`Which company did the brothers use for their voyages to India?' "
"The Modras Line. They have offices in town."
"I might call upon them myself in the course of my investigation," said I.
"The house-boy was summoned from the kitchen, and I questioned him upon the verandah. The 'house-boy' proved to be no boy at all, but a tiny, wizened Tamil in his fifties at least. He was polite and informative, but could shed no light on the mysterious vanishing of his employers. I ran the gamut of usual questions, from whether he noticed anything amiss on the night in question — he had not — to whether the brothers were liked and respected, which they were. Finally I asked: 'What, in your opinion, has become of Master Bruce and William?' "
"At this his eyes filled with tears, and he murmured, 'I fear for their lives, Mr Holmes.' "
"You do, and why is this?"
"The little Tamil shook his head. 'Their spirits are abroad at night,' said he."
"I exchanged a glance with Trevor. 'They are? And what makes you so certain?' "
" 'Myself, I have not heard or seen them — but my kitchen boys report hearing their wails in the night from the hills around. Their spirits haunt the estate and will do so until their enemies are brought to justice.' "
"I considered his words for some minutes, my thoughts entertaining dark possibilities in the bright sunlight of that equatorial country, whereupon I dismissed the house-boy and turned to Trevor."
"And what, my friend do you make of that?"
"Poppycock, Holmes! Superstition of the first water. There are no people on Earth more given to such flights of fancy than the natives of this island. They probably heard the trumpeting of an elephant and drew conclusions."
"Perhaps I might have a word with the house-keeper?"
"Trevor informed me that the girl employed by the brothers at the time of their disappearance was no longer in service here. 'She is pregnant, and shortly after the brothers' disappearance
took ill. For the past three months she has been bed-ridden in a bungalow on the edge of the estate — the brothers hired a doctor in the early stages of her pregnancy, when she first showed signs of weakness. The doctor has attended her ever since. Later, if you wish, we might visit her and see what she can add to your investigations. Now, perhaps I could show you around the estate before the sun is at its height? I have my morning rounds to do anyway. If you would care to join me ...' "
"We took a trap along the rutted tracks excavated through the red soil of the estate. From time to time Trevor reigned the horse to a holt, climbed down and engaged native workers in long minutes' conversation. One hour before noon, with the sun beating down like some heavenly furnace, Trevor pulled up on the very perimeter of the estate, jumped down and strode through the knee-high bushes to address a worker bent over in inspection of the soil. While Trevor was thus occupied, and despite the fierce attention of the sun, I elected to leave the canopied shade of the trap and take a stroll."
"I inspected a number of tea plants, about which, over the course of my botanical investigations, I have come to know
a little. At length I repaired to Trevor's side, interested in the involved conversation he was conducting with the worker. They were discussing the state and composition of the soil. At one point I interrupted. 'Might this account for the state of the plants in this area?' I enquired."
" 'I didn't know you were a botanist too, Holmes,' said Trevor."
"I've gleaned a passing knowledge of the science in my reading over the years," said I. "And these plants seem, if I am not mistaken, to be suffering from Elsinoe thaea — or mottle scab."
"The manager nodded. 'And not only in this area, Mr Holmes. Fully half the estate is blighted.' "
Trevor swung his arm to indicate a broad swathe of land on the periphery of the plantation. 'The entire eastern sector will not produce this season,' said he. "I closed down the whole area when I took charge in February, locked the outbuildings where the tea was stored for drying, and ensured that no-one approached these terraces, for fear of spreading the scab.' "
" 'Do you think that the Atkinsons were aware of the disease before they vanished?' I asked."
"Trevor considered the question before replying. 'It is possible, Holmes; indeed probable.' He was silent awhile. 'Why?' he asked at length. "Do you think that this might have some bearing on the case?' "
"It is too early to say," I opined. "But certainly it is a factor to be taken into consideration."
"We had been joined, there upon the hillside, by a knot of curious native workers. They spoke rapidly in their own tongue, Sinhalese, upon which Trevor seemed to lose his temper and snap at them in their language. They fell immediately silent and appeared shame-faced."
"What were they saying?" I asked.
"Yet more superstitious claptrap," Trevor said. "They claim that six months ago, just after Bruce and William vanished, they heard the waiting of their spirits in this benighted sector. Complete rubbish, of course."
"In due course we took our leave and drove east, towards the town of Trincomalee. 'The estate spreads over some five square miles,' Trevor informed me. 'The easternmost area, bordering the town, is where the locals have their abodes. The Atkinson's housekeeper is interned in the hospital bungalow.' "
"Presently we came upon the hospital, but to grace the rude timber construct with such a title was optimistic in the extreme. It was little more than a shed occupied by four beds, only one of them taken. The doctor, an Indian in his eighties, showed us across to the girl, one Anya Amala. 'Two minutes only, sirs,' he said. 'The girl is most seriously weakened.' "
"She was a small thing barely out of her teens, with a sheen of perspiration laid across her dusky brow. She eyed our approach with something like apprehension, and as I took a seat beside the bed I was at pains to put her at ease."
`I wish only to ask a few simple questions,' I began. 'I will not detain you for long.' "
"She glanced like a frightened animal from the doctor, to Trevor, and finally back to myself. She nodded, licking her lips nervously."
" 'How long have you worked for the brothers?' I enquired. "In a whisper so soft it was almost inaudible, she said, 'I have
worked for William and Bruce almost two years, sir. They have been good and kind employers. I am most very upset when they disappear.' "
" 'Workers on the estate are of the opinion that the brothers are dead, Anya. What do you think on this matter?' "
"She shook her head, and the movement dislodged tears which fell from her massive eyes and rolled down her brown cheeks. 'I ... I — oh, I cannot imagine this terrible thing!' "
"I patted her hand. 'There, there. We are doing all we can to resolve the situation.' "
`The doctor gestured that the girl had had enough, and after thanking her for her time we took our leave.'
"We returned to the house and had lunch in the shade of the verandah, after which I retired to my room and slept in the heat of the day. Dinner that night was a formal occasion attended by a few local planters and their wives. The case, of course, was the main topic of conversation, and a dozen wild and extravagant theories were proposed to explain the state of affairs."
" 'It is quite obvious to me," said one dowager, the wife of a retired planter, 'that the Atkinsons were facing a financial crisis and decided to abscond. They left like thieves in the night, and might at this very moment be enjoying the high life in Kuala Lumpur."
" 'Stuff and nonsense,' someone responded. 'All the boats from the island have been investigated. The brothers were upon none of them' "
"But you do concede, do you not, that the brothers were capable of such duplicity?"
"An uneasy silence descended upon the gathered company. It is always unsettling to have suspicion pointed at erstwhile friends of hitherto impeccable reputation."
"Presently the conversation turned to matters colonial, and I excused myself and retired to my room."
"The following morning after breakfast I told Trevor that I wished to visit Trincomalee, and he arranged a trap and driver to transport me there."
"Trincomalee is a small town with stone-built, colonial buildings dominating the main street, and ruder constructions comprising the outskirts. I stepped down from the trap on the main street, which follows the length of the ridge for some hundred yards. I decided that my first port of call should be the Colonial Police headquarters, an imposing building difficult to miss. After negotiating the interminable bureaucracy that maintains in such institutions, I was finally shown into the office of one Sergeant Mortimer, the officer in charge of the Atkinson investigation."
" 'Mr Holmes,' he said, rising from his desk to shake my hand. 'I heard that you were on the case. I must confess that I should be most grateful for any light you might shed on this dreadful matter I don't mind confessing that the affair has me baffled.' He dealt me a penetrating look. 'Might I ask how your investigations proceed?' "
"I told him that I had been on the island just over one day, and that thus far I had learnt little. 'I would be pleased to hear your opinions on the case,' I said. 'There is a rumour doing the rounds that the Atkinsons' estate was falling, and rather than face the wrath of the owners, the brothers fled the country.' "
"The Sergeant pursed his lips in contemplation. "Well, the estate was not doing that well — that much I can attest: But to be perfectly honest I could not see the brothers' taking the cowards' way out and absconding. To cover that possibility, I had men posted at all the ports for two weeks following their disappearance."
"Have you in the course of your investigations looked into their financial situation?"
"Of course. I made comprehensive enquiries at the local bank. They were overdrawn to the tune of some £1,000. The brothers ... how can I put it? ... the brothers were rather fond of an occasional flutter, shall we say?"
"By that I take it that they played, and lost, at cards?"
" 'So I have heard,' Seageant Mortimer said. 'But I enquired as to whether they had outstanding gambling debts, and so far as I could discover, such was not the case. The whole affair baffles me, Mr Holmes.' "
"Might they have been taken from the house and murdered by enemies?" I suggested.
" 'If they had enemies,' the Sergeant said, 'then I might entertain the notion. But I knew the brothers well, and aside from their predilection towards gambling, they were as moral a pair as could be found. They did not have a detractor in the world."
"We discussed the matter further, but I discovered no more details relevant to the affair, and in due course I thanked the Sergeant and took my leave."
"I decided to look in on the offices of the Madras Line, situated in a nearby weatherboard building. A harassed female clerk in a bright red sari barely glanced up at me as she busily copied out invoices. I introduced myself and stated my business. She was most brusque in her reply. 'The ledgers are piled over there,' she replied in the sing-song English of her people. "Why don't you look for yourself?' "
"I bit my tongue and began the arduous business of going through the records of tickets sold during the relevant peri
od. Needless to say, I discovered nothing — as if, I told myself, the brothers would have booked tickets under their own names!"
"I returned to the unfriendly clerk and requested to see the manager. The woman looked up and smiled at me. 'I am the manager, Mr Holmes,' said she."
"In that case I would like to ask you a few questions, Madam."
"For the next ten minutes I managed to extract answers from this impertinent soul — an operation as onerous as attempting to draw blood from a stone. For my pains, I learned that the brothers had not bought tickets from the Madras Line since the Christmas before, when they had taken their customary week's holiday with friends in India."
"I thanked the manager for her estimable courtesy and stepped out into the street."
"I was about to return to the waiting trap, with little accomplished, when I noticed across the street the boarded up windows of a building upon which a faded, painted sign advertised passenger ships to various destinations around the Indian sub-continent and Malaya."
"I entered the shop next door, a bicycle repair establishment, and asked how long the shipping office had been closed. The owner considered and duly answered that the business had gone into liquidation six months earlier."
"Do you have any idea as to the whereabouts of its erstwhile manager?" I asked.
" 'He is working as the deputy-manager at the Post Office,' I was told, and to these venerable premises I duly made my way. "There, an ancient Tamil identified himself as the one-time
The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures Page 22
