hazardous bounds. From the platform he greeted us with a triumphant wave, but, feeling unable to follow him, we could only gaze enviously upward as he disappeared through the office door.
Holmes was not to emerge again from the coastguard’s office, for a full hour, and Fowler and I could only speculate idly as to the reason for so long a visit. As was common with someone as enigmatic as Holmes, this would not be made clear to us for some considerable time. During those long sixty minutes Fowler and I marvelled at the endless stream of cocklers who passed by, fully laden on their way to the cockle-sheds, or ‘mushers’. The cockles were, indeed, strange looking little creatures, in their natural raw form, but were, evidently, the very life blood of Leigh-on-Sea.
We were whiling away our time by skimming pebbles on the calm estuary waters, when Holmes came bounding down the precarious stairs towards us. He bore the look of a man who had just met with some considerable success.
‘Gentlemen, I am glad to see that you have spent your spare hour in so productive a manner!’ Holmes laughed.
In a state of some embarrassment, I discreetly sprinkled my remaining pebbles over the ground and then asked: ‘I assume that your time spent in that death trap was somewhat more rewarding?’
‘Oh, considerably so. This case has assumed a totally different aspect as a consequence. However, before I impart to you of the results of my enquiries, I have been informed that the views from the summit of Leigh Hill are most gratifying.’ Without another word Holmes sprinted up a hill so steep that someone with a weaker heart would have been seriously incommoded in its negotiation.
My attempt at restraining him fell on deaf ears and as usual I was left in his wake and in awe at the boundless energy he seemed to generate when the scent of success was upon him. By the time Fowler and I had joined him at the top of the hill Holmes seemed to have already completed his surveillance and was resting on a small stone wall, his pipe well established. He waved this dramatically before him in a broad sweep.
‘It is not often that the entire geographical evidence of a case is laid before you in just one splendid vista,’ Holmes observed. Fowler and I exchanged puzzled glances.
Having noted this with a little amusement, Holmes continued, still using his pipe as a pointer. ‘To the left we can see the full width of the estuary, wherein the
‘For heaven’s sake, Holmes!’ I exclaimed, by now unable to contain my frustration at his enigmatic utterances. ‘If the Inspector and I are to take any sort of intelligent interest in this case you must remember that we were not present with you at the coastguard’s office. If you wish me to return to London, thereby intending to continue your investigation alone, please inform me now and I will return to the hotel and begin my packing immediately!’
‘My dear fellow, by no means is it my intention to exclude you, nor do I wish for your premature return to London. Any insight into my nature that you may thus far have gained should assure you that the reticence I might show in expounding upon my theories is born of the specialist’s reluctance to show his hand, prior to reaching absolute confidence in their validity. As ever, your continued support and assistance are of the utmost value to me.’ As Holmes concluded this lengthy vindication of his behaviour, he placed his hand upon my shoulder to assure me of his sincerity.
Naturally, the playful smile on his lips and the eager intensity in his eyes won me over at once. ‘Well, of course I shall stay!’ I assured him emphatically.
‘Hah, Watson! Well, we have seen enough here, so, Inspector Fowler, if you can suggest somewhere suitable for a decent lunch, I shall outline my itinerary for the coming afternoon, during the course of the meal.’
As it turned out, Fowler’s only experience of Leigh’s culinary offerings, had been confined to the dining-room of the Peter Boat. Their fish pie was more than above average and even Holmes’s normally reluctant appetite was tempted by its delights. We three made short work of our luncheon and a tankard each of local ale and before long, over our pipes, Holmes outlined his immediate plans.
‘So as not to incur your wrath still further, friend Watson, I would inform you at once that it is my intention to take the first available train to London, as soon as our meal is concluded.’ Holmes now continued hurriedly to prevent my inevitable interjection. ‘However, this apparent retreat will only be for the benefit of any interested eyes that may happen to be upon me. I shall alight at Pitsea station and then take the next southbound train to Southend where, I understand, there is a very fine theatre, of whose wardrobe department I shall endeavour to make full use. You see, there is insufficient time for me to return to Baker Street, but it will suit my purposes admirably if certain parties are convinced of my return there.’
‘You are so convinced that there is a conspiracy afoot?’ I asked quietly.
‘We are wading in waters as deep and dark as those of the estuary itself,’ Holmes gravely replied. ‘Upon my return to Leigh, in my guise as an old sea dog, I fully intend to ingratiate myself with the patrons of the Sailors Rest and find out what I may about Captain Johnson and his unhappy crew.’ Having emptied the contents of his pipe into a large glass ashtray, Holmes slowly rose from his chair. ‘Should my itinerary go according to plan we shall meet again by the late evening.’
‘So I am to remain gainfully unemployed once again?’ I asked sarcastically.
‘Oh no, it shall be quite the contrary, my dear fellow. It shall fall on you to ensure that word of my departure to London be commonly known. It might be as well to begin with the Lomases themselves. I am sure it will not be long before young Edward informs his employer. Then, I think, an interview with “Uncle Ted” Burnley might be in order. You will, inevitably, gain more insight into a man’s true nature from an adversary, than you will ever gain from a close friend or relation.’ Then, with a doff of his hat, my old friend was gone.
‘Well, Doctor, Mr Holmes certainly seems to know what he is about. I suggest we drop a word or two into the ears of one or two landlords and while you seek out the Lomases I shall search my notes for Mr Burnley’s address. Shall we meet back here in, say, one hour? Then we shall see what light Mr Burnley might be able to shed upon this matter.’
I nodded my affirmation enthusiastically, amazed at how willing Fowler was to co-operate with Holmes and his plans.
I felt rather ashamed at having to disturb the Lomases with the fabricated and unwelcome news of Holmes’s unscheduled return to London. However, I softened the blow somewhat by assuring them that Holmes had not given up on their father and would be returning to Leigh within the next forty eight hours. Edward accepted the news with apparent indifference, whilst his sister’s previous excitable display of disappointment was replaced with a more crestfallen demeanour, for which I felt guilty at having caused.
The news of Holmes’s departure was spread further around the community by Fowler and myself informing our respective landlords whilst ensuring that others were within earshot. Satisfied that by nightfall not one resident of Leigh-on-Sea would doubt the certainty of Holmes’s departure, Fowler and I kept our appointment to meet at the Peter Boat and immediately set off for the residence of ‘Uncle Ted’ Burnley.
As it turned out Burnley lived barely a half-mile from the home of his business rival, Nathaniel Garside, in a charming cottage on the New Road. Sadly, the exterior of the cottage and its grounds were in a state of sad neglect, the garden being somewhat overgrown. As we found out, this reflected the chaotic and eccentric nature of its owner.
Burnley’s renowned liberal stance on every aspect of social and political life explained the size and nature of his household. A robust, middle-aged lady, called Mary, who answered the summons of our knock on the front door, was the cottage’s only other resident and she worked as both housekeeper and cook. However, it was to Burnley’s credit, as her employer, that she carried out her many tasks whilst displaying a most cheerful disposition and much enthusiasm.
She showed us into a cluttered drawing room and introduced us to Mr Burnley as he walked towards us from the French windows at the rear of the house. He shook us by the hand with gusto and greeted us with a warm smile, exuding charm from every pore. Without requiring prior instruction, at once Mary promised us a tray of tea, whilst Burnley cleared a couple of armchairs of books before inviting us to be seated with a wave of his arm.
‘The poor woman is constantly clearing up after me and, I must confess, it is a mostly perpetual and thankless task. However, in all other aspects I am mostly self-sufficient, so it gives her something to do!’ Mary was halfway through the door, on her way for the tea, when Burnley’s jibes caught her attention, but she seemed to
