appreciate his humour without taking offence.
‘I must confess that she does not appear to be terribly put upon,’ I responded in similar vein. As I was speaking, Burnley busied himself by clearing another heap of books from a chair close to mine and Fowler’s, then, perching himself on the edge of his seat he rubbed his hands together as he asked: ‘Now gentlemen, you must explain to me how I can be of service to you.’
It felt strange to be taking part in an interview and not being required to take notes. Of course, as a representative of the official force, it was second nature for Fowler to use his notebook and pencil and I, for once, was able to sit back and observe my surroundings and the gentleman we had come to interview.
Edward Burnley was a man of below average height, but of above average girth. Indeed, the ornate gold watch-chain, his pride in which he was locally renowned, seemed likely to snap a link every time he laughed. Although in his mid-sixties, he was blessed with a full head of silver hair, which had been revealed when he removed his colourful checked cap upon entering the room, and this was complemented by a similarly textured beard and moustache. His small brown eyes sparkled from behind the lenses of a pair of steelrimmed spectacles.
Before Fowler or myself could respond to Burnley’s offer of assistance he enlarged upon his question by adding:
‘Naturally, I am surprised to receive such a visit, Inspector. I understood that your investigations in Leigh had been concluded and I was equally certain that Mr Holmes’s return to London indicated that your own interest in the tragic loss of the
‘So, you understand the purpose behind our visit, then?’ Fowler said quietly.
‘Well, Inspector, I felt certain that it would not be a social visit!’ Burnley said with his customary red-faced chuckle.
Before we could continue further Mary returned to the room bearing a tray of tea and scones. She stood before Burnley with a frown, indicating the clutter on an occasional table next to him. With mumbled apologies, Burnley hastily removed the offending objects and poured the tea himself after Mary had bustled from the room.
After we had each consumed a scone and taken a sip of tea, Fowler responded to Burnley in a manner that certainly surprised me.
‘To be candid then, sir, at the outset of my investigation I had been hampered in performing my duty by both Garside’s reputation and his undoubted influence both on the local community and my own superiors.
‘However, certain arguments put forward by Mr Holmes have convinced me that there may be more than an element of truth in old man Lomas’s original statement, despite its apparently implausible assertions. In fact, I can now readily admit that my desire to further my own career, by pleasing my superiors, has led to an innocent man’s incarceration, the suffering of his family and the destroying of his reputation. I am certain that, but for Mr Holmes’s intervention, these wrongs would not have been righted.’ In a state of red-faced embarrassment Fowler paused for a moment.
‘You do realize, Inspector, that in accepting Lomas’s version of events you are acknowledging the probability that the
‘I do,’ Fowler replied emphatically.
‘Equally, I am sure you are aware that the likely culprit would prove to be none other than the
‘You have a full and accurate grasp of the situation, Mr Burnley,’ Fowler replied, raising his eyes to him in hopeful expectantly.
‘Well then, you should be glad to hear that I might just be able to provide you with the information that you require.’ The sparkle returned to Burnley’s eyes and he helped himself to some more of his tea.
At Burnley’s words I was at once filled with the thrill of anticipation, although I am ashamed to admit that it was more at the thought of Holmes’s reaction to my supplying vital information for once, rather than the actual prospect of Burnley’s imminent statement.
‘Despite my well-publicized misgivings regarding the ethics behind the majority of Garside’s business dealings, the local community still regard him with misguided trust and respect. However, one could equally put this down to fear, when you bear in mind how many people within the community depend upon him for their livelihood. His business interests range from numerous shops, boatyards, “mushers”, or cockle-sheds, to a controlling interest in the gas company. In this last capacity, and to his credit, he was instrumental in the laying on of gas and public street-lighting, and he has undoubtedly improved the local highways during his chairmanship of the parish council.
‘Unfortunately, none of this seems to be enough for him. His employees are grotesquely underpaid and maltreated and, because he just happens to be their landlord, they are forced to live in horrendously sordid conditions, paying nearly all of their paltry wages for the privilege!’
‘It does not seem to me that a man in his eminent position should need to bother himself with the disposal of an antique and redundant vessel,’ I conjectured. ‘Much less the fate of a rum-sodden old seaman.’
‘I agree with you sir!’ Burnley responded. ‘Yet I have, subsequently, discovered that Lloyd’s are liable to pay considerable compensation for the
‘Nathaniel Garside is not, as he would like to be regarded, an honourable man. He is a pathological gambler! Gentlemen, do not be deceived by the fact that I appear more liberal and freethinking than my rival, for I am none the less a businessman and possess all the acumen and wiliness of one in my profession. Consequently, I have been able to ascertain, through various business acquaintances, that Garside is not in the sound financial position that one would assume.
‘Gentlemen, I am sure you will agree that the motive of Garside shoring up his crumbling empire with the proceeds from the insurance company, would be a strong one?’
Fowler and I agreed most emphatically, but then declined Burnley’s offer of further hospitality, wishing to be present at the hotel when Holmes made his return As it turned out we were back at the Ship hotel well before Holmes arrived, and our vigil in the bar was a long, albeit, comfortable one.
By the time Holmes did stride into the saloon all the other guests had long retired to their rooms and the barkeeper was impatiently waiting for Fowler and myself to drain the dregs of our pints and knock out our final pipes.
‘So good of you to wait up for me! I must apologize for the lateness of the hour. Bartender! I think a round of Cognacs is in order. Oh, and one for yourself, of course,’ Holmes added, at his most charmingly persuasive, clearly observant of the man’s annoyance at the lateness of the hour. However, we received our Cognacs and retired with them to the comfortable armchairs.
Holmes’s appearance was most peculiar. His face was flushed with success and yet was undoubtedly exhausted from his efforts. Remnants of his impersonation of an old sea dog still clung to his hair and cheeks and he plucked at these impatiently while we sat there talking.
‘So, Watson, your countenance smacks of self-satisfaction. I assume, therefore, that you have important information to impart,’ Holmes speculated.
‘That honour should fall to my colleague from Scotland Yard,’ I replied gesturing towards the inspector.
Then to the dismay of both Fowler and myself, and just as Fowler was about to bring out his notebook, Holmes launched into a narrative of his own, before either of us was able to utter a single word. However, and to his credit, Holmes noticed our crestfallen faces. He broke off in mid-sentence, and gestured towards Fowler and his book. ‘Perhaps your information will render mine redundant,’ he suggested.
It became clear, however, that his statement was not born of humility, for this was not a virtue with which Holmes was particularly well-endowed; it sprang more from the certain knowledge that this would not prove to be the case. However, he listened patiently and in silence whilst Fowler read from his notes.
‘Ah, gentlemen, if only you had acted upon your information at once, rather than rushing back here to impart
