The Secret Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes (22 page)

‘It is to be assumed that they are engaged in breeding more specimens of that hideous sample in the glass jar, for the letter refers to several dozen of the creatures, and that therefore they must have premises somewhere, presumably in the countryside, where such activities may be carried out without arousing the suspicions of their neighbours. But where exactly? That is the crucial question. It could be anywhere within a ten-mile radius of Wellerby; possibly even more. It could take weeks, even months, to scour such a wide area, examining every farm and small-holding, and we have a mere few days.

‘To be frank with you, Unwin and I have reached an
impasse.
That is why I have confided in you, my dear fellow, now that your health has improved, so that, by using you as sounding-board, I may clear my own mind.’

‘Have you made inquiries of land-agents in the area?’ I suggested, deeply concerned not only by the gravity of the situation but by my old friend’s obvious fatigue and low spirits.
‘If this man, the Pied Piper, has only recently arrived in this country, he may have rented property …’

‘Yes, yes!’ Holmes said impatiently. ‘That was the first thought to cross my mind. All premises which have been leased or sold over the past ten years have been inquired into and visited but none of them is the one we are seeking. Either the Pied Piper or the driver of the van must own whatever premises they are using, or they have made private arrangements to rent them.’

For several moments, I was silent as I considered the problem. Having had one suggestion so abruptly dismissed, I was reluctant to put forward any others without first giving them careful thought.

Meanwhile, Holmes had got to his feet and was restlessly pacing up and down the room.

It was then that an idea came to me so suddenly that I found myself uttering it out loud without thinking.

‘Straw!’ I exclaimed.

Holmes stopped in his tracks and turned on me an incredulous expression.

‘Straw? What on earth are you talking about, Watson? The only straws in the case are those that Unwin and I find ourselves clutching at so desperately.’

‘No, not straws, Holmes. Straw. If the Pied Piper and his accomplice are breeding rats, they will need bedding and probably a large quantity of it as well. Unless they have stocks of it themselves from growing their own corn, which seems unlikely, then they must buy it from a local farmer or dealer.’

‘My dear fellow!’ Holmes exclaimed, striding across the room to wring my hand. ‘I do believe you have the answer. Straw! Of course! Whatever put such an idea into your mind? It is positively scintillating.’

‘As a boy, I used to keep pet mice,’ I said modestly. ‘I recall having regularly to buy bedding for them; hay in that particular instance.’

‘Pet mice? What a revelation! Although I have known you for a good many years, I was unaware of such a fascinating detail concerning your youth.’

In an instant he had changed, throwing off his exhaustion as if it had been an old coat and emerging a new man, fresh and invigorated, full of animation and energy.

Fetching his hat and stick, he announced, ‘I shall go out at once and purchase all the Kentish newspapers. Straw! It is a stroke of genius!’

With that he was gone, bounding eagerly down the stairs.

He was back within a quarter of an hour, flourishing two newspapers, his expression jubilant.

‘I do believe our luck has changed, Watson. I was able to acquire the
Wellerby
Gazette
and the
Wellerby
Chronicle
as well. Here, my dear fellow,’ tossing me one of the newspapers, ‘take the
Chronicle
and search through the pages of advertisements. And, remembering Van Breughel’s reluctance to part with money, I suggest we look for a dealer offering the cheapest straw on the market.’

There followed several minutes of silence, broken only by the sound of rustling as Holmes and I turned over the pages of our respective newspapers.

It was Holmes who found the advertisement.

‘Listen to this!’ he exclaimed. ‘“Bargain Offer. Hay, straw, manure going cheap while stocks last.” I believe we have found it!’

‘Is there an address?’

‘Yes; Armitage, Blossom Farm, Lower Bagnell. I know the village. I passed through it when Unwin and I were making our inquiries. Pack a valise, Watson! We are leaving immediately. And do not forget to bring your service revolver with you. We may have need of it.’

Galvanised into action by Holmes’ energy, I hurriedly threw a few things into an overnight bag, including my pistol, and within ten minutes we were in a cab and on our way to Charing Cross station, stopping briefly at a post office to allow Holmes to send a telegram to Inspector Unwin, who was presently engaged on inquiries in London, to inform him of our departure.

It was only when we were on the train on the way to Wellerby that I had the opportunity to ask the question to which I had
been eager to know the answer ever since I had first seen the dreadful specimen inside the jar.

‘Tell me, Holmes,’ I said, ‘how is it possible that the Pied Piper managed to acquire such a monstrous creature? Is it an aberration of Nature? Or is it the product of some fiendish scientific experiment?’

‘I am convinced that it is a devilish combination of the two,’ Holmes replied, his face grave. ‘You have heard no doubt of Darwin?
*
Since his book was published in 1859 on the origin of the various species, our ideas of evolution have been turned upside down, causing such a furore inside the established church that the dust has not yet settled. And yet it makes perfectly good sense to believe that it is by a process of natural selection that the animal kingdom – of which we must count ourselves members, Watson – should pass on to the succeeding generations those characteristics which are advantageous to their survival, rather than those that are not. But is the name Mendel
†
familiar to you?’

‘No’ I replied. ‘I have not heard of him.’

‘Few people have. He was an Austrian priest and botanist who, in the 1860s, carried out a series of experiments in the monastery gardens into the cross-fertilisation of the garden pea and discovered a constancy in height of the plants, for example, or the colour of the flowers. From these tests, he developed a theory that the alternative characteristics observed in the plants, both in the parents and their descendants, are caused by the presence of paired elements of heredity which obey simple rules, one half being transmitted by one parent, the other by the second. In other words, Watson, the offspring inherit half
their characteristics from the female plant, the other half from the male.

‘In 1866, Mendel published his results in an article entitled
“Versuche
über
Pflanzenhybriden”
or “Experiments with Plant Hybrids” which I happened to come across a few years ago in the British Museum library.

‘Once one applies Mendel’s discovery to mammals rather than garden peas, and combines it with Darwin’s theory on natural selection, one grasps its relevance to such an animal as the bamboo rat which can reproduce itself within twenty-two days and give birth to a litter of up to five young. If one takes a larger than average male bamboo rat and mates it with a larger than average female, the offspring themselves will be bigger than normal. If one then breeds from the largest of their offspring, their descendants will in turn be of increased size. And so one continues until eventually, over many generations, one can, by selective hybridisation, produce a rat which is several times larger than the original breeding pair and which is less selective in its feeding habits than those in the wild. Normally, as their name suggests, they live mainly on bamboo although they will eat other vegetable matter.

‘I believe that is what has happened in this case. By careful mating, Van Breughel has developed a strain of the
Rodentia
sumatrensis
of which we have so far seen only one dead example. What the living specimens must be like, I shudder to contemplate. It also defies the imagination to envisage the consequences should such creatures be let loose into the sewers. They would overrun our cities, bringing God knows what pestilence with them. Think also of the terror they would inspire!

‘As for the future, the prospect is alarming. While such theories could benefit mankind in the struggle against hereditary diseases or in the breeding of improved strains of plants in order to feed our increasing population, in the wrong hands they could lead to the restructuring of matter itself and to the reproduction of every kind of evil which haunts our planet.’

‘I don’t quite follow you, Holmes,’ I said.

‘My dear fellow, think of typhoid! Or cholera! Or bubonic
plague! If some mad biologist were to breed a particularly virulent form of any of those infections and let it loose into a population, the results could be catastrophic. He could hold not just the British Government to ransom, as the Pied Piper is presently attempting, but the whole world!

‘Which brings me to my theory that the Pied Piper bears a grudge against our Government. Sumatra is owned by the Dutch.
*
Why has he not turned his blackmailing threats against them? It would seem logical. But rather he has singled out this country. If ever this case is brought to a conclusion, we may discover the reason behind his choice of victim.’

‘You think that we may finally solve this case then, Holmes?’

‘We must, my dear Watson,’ he replied gravely. ‘If we do not, I cannot tell what the consequences may be.’

For the rest of the journey, we were both silent, each of us contemplating this dreadful prospect.

On our arrival at Wellerby, a small market town, we took the station dog-cart to Lower Bagnell, a picturesque village some five miles distant. Fortunately, it possessed a public house, the ‘Barley Mow’, which let out accommodation and, having booked a room for two nights and deposited our luggage, we hired the publican’s trap and set off immediately for Blossom Farm, two miles away, Holmes taking the reins.

He already had his story prepared and, as we rattled into the farmyard and drew to a halt, he jumped down to address Armitage who had come out of a barn to greet us.

He was a red-faced, corpulent man, slow of speech but shrewd of manner and he eyed Holmes warily as he approached.

We were, Holmes explained, looking for some acquaintances of ours who, he believed, owned a farm or a small-holding in the district. One was a short, sandy-haired man in eye-glasses, the other broad and dark-featured. Had Mr Armitage any knowledge of them?

‘Londoners, bain’t you?’ Armitage asked, looking us up and down with the countryman’s suspicion of strangers.

‘Yes, we are.’

‘Stayin’ locally?’

‘In Lower Bagnell.’

‘How long for?’

‘Two days.’

‘Ah!’ said Armitage and fell silent.

I could see that Holmes was growing impatient at this catechism but he contained his exasperation and continued, ‘I am most anxious to trace these men for personal reasons. If you have any information about them, Mr Armitage, I should be happy to make it worth your while.’

Armitage immediately became more loquacious.

‘Yes, I know one of ’em,’ he said. ‘The dark ’un. Comes ’ere regular, ’e do, buyin’ straw. Milk, too, and eggs.’ He cocked a knowing eye at Holmes. ‘Owes you money, do ’e?’ On receiving Holmes’ confirmation, Armitage grinned triumphantly. ‘I thought ’e might. Wanted to run up a bill with me, ’e did. But I told ’e, no money, no goods. So ’e pays me on the nose afore I lets ’e load up ’is van.’

‘Do you know where he lives?’ Holmes inquired.

Armitage again fell silent, an expression of bovine stupidity overtaking his features. But, as soon as Holmes produced a half-crown from his pocket, he recovered his power of speech, like a mechanical piano set in motion by the insertion of a penny.

‘Can’t tell ’e the address,’ he said, ’but when ’e drives off, ’e goes that way.’ A dirty thumb was jerked to the left.

‘Thank you,’ Holmes said, trying to hide his disappointment that, despite the half-crown, Armitage had given us no more specific information than this. ’You have been most helpful. I should be grateful if you did not mention any of this to the man concerned.’

‘Bain’t none of my business,’ Armitage replied with a shrug.

He waited, deliberately I suspected, until Holmes had climbed back into the trap and had taken up the reins before he
added, ‘I’ll tell ’e somethin’ else though. ’Is ’orse is allus fresh. Bain’t come more’n two or three miles at most.’

‘My dear sir, you have my eternal gratitude!’ Holmes called over his shoulder as the trap moved off.

As soon as we were out of earshot, he burst out laughing.

‘A cussed old devil but observant nonetheless, Watson. Two or three miles north of here! That should make the search easier.’

As events were to prove, he was far too sanguine. It was growing dusk before we finally found the place after several weary hours of inquiring at farms and small-holdings and tramping through many muddy yards.

My leg was causing me considerable discomfort when Holmes, who had turned down a narrow lane which appeared to lead nowhere, suddenly reined in the horse.

‘I believe we have found it, Watson!’ he said softly, his eyes glittering in the glow of the side lamps.

We had halted at a gate leading to a rutted track at the far end of which we could dimly observe in the fading light the roof and chimneys of a house, partly obscured by the surrounding trees. A board nailed to the gate-post announced in peeling white letters the name ‘Bedlow’s Farm’.

‘But why this one?’ I inquired.

To me it looked no more likely than several other farms which we had passed on the road and which Holmes had dismissed out of hand.

‘Observe the heavy chain and padlock on the gate, both of them new,’ Holmes replied. ‘Note also the fresh pieces of straw caught upon the hedge. I am convinced we have found the Pied Piper’s lair. It is too late to make a reconnaissance tonight but we shall return tomorrow at first light.’

He was as good as his word. At six o’ clock the following morning, Holmes, already dressed, shook me awake and at a quarter before seven, having breakfasted on bread and bacon, we set off once more in the trap, Holmes with his field-glasses on their strap about his neck, I with my service revolver in my pocket.