Barry Day - Sherlock Holmes and the Alice in Wonderland Murders

“I’m as large as life — and twice as natural,” the Caterpillar replied in what seemed an eminently reasonable tone.

“I just don’t believe any of this is happening,” I cried.

“If you’ll believe in me — I’ll believe in you,” said the Caterpillar, as it slowly turned into … Humpty Dumpty with Moriarty’s face.

“So you don’t believe, eh, Doctor?” said Humpty Dumpty. “Well, I’m afraid you leave me no alternative.”

I saw now that he was carefully placing a judge’s black cap on top of his egg-shaped head.

“I’ll be judge, I’ll be jury … I’ll try the whole case and condemn you to death. Oh, by the way, Doctor, remind me to get a bigger cap, there’s a good fellow … there’s a good fellow … there’s a good fellow.”

His moon face melted into a blur and as I struggled to bring it back into focus, it turned into Holmes. I realised that he was leaning over me and shaking me awake.

“Wake up, there’s a good fellow. I need your help and we seem to have stirred up the hornets’ nest right enough. I’ve asked Mrs. Hudson to make us a fresh pot of tea. Is there anything else that would tempt you to rise?”

“Ask her if there is any jam today?” I replied rather groggily. Holmes laughed loudly. “Good old Watson. The fixed point in a changing world. Jam it shall be.” He went out, closing the bedroom door behind him.

When I entered the sitting room a little while later, I found Holmes deep in conversation with a tall young man of rather disreputable appearance. On my arrival, however, I was pleased to see him jump to his feet and touch his forelock. “Mornin’, Doctor Watson.” Then I recognised him. “Ah, morning, Wiggins!” I replied, “and how are the Baker Street Irregulars these days?”

“Mustn’t grumble, Doctor, and always better for a bit of action.”

At Holmes’s indication, he resumed his seat and I poured myself a much-needed cup of tea. “I’ve had Wiggins and his colleagues watching Chester Square for the last couple of days, Watson. Do you think you were spotted, Wiggins?”

“I’m pretty certain not, Mr. ’Olmes,” the boy replied. “We took it in shifts, like. One of us would be on a delivery bike. Another would be doing some odd jobs in a neighbour’s garden. Nobody ever takes notice of a young bloke like me,” he added with a touch of professional pride in his voice.

Holmes looked down at a notepad on his knee.

“From the boy’s description our friend has been receiving the visitors we suspected on a regular basis. Everything seemed to be proceeding in an orderly fashion until late last night. Right, Wiggins?”

“Regular ’ornets’ nest it was then, Doctor. People coming and going till all hours, lights blazing and everything. Then about two-ish this one feller comes rushing in. Slicked back hair, looked like he’d seen a ghost …”

“Steel!” I exclaimed.

“The genuine article by the sounds of it,” Holmes replied with an enigmatic glance in my direction. “And then what happened, Wiggins?”

“Well, gentlemen,” said Wiggins, expansive now that he had a captive audience, “I managed to shin up a drain pipe, see, until I was next to the room where most of the noise was coming from. Then I see — saw — this Steel chap come rushing in. Two other fellers were trying to stop him but he wasn’t having none of that. He goes up to where this chap Moxton is sitting at his desk and starts banging on it. And Moxton doesn’t like that one bit, I can tell you.”

“So then what happened, Wiggins? Be as precise as you can, if you please. A great deal may depend on it.”

“Moxton just keeps staring at him and I felt all cold even where I was, I can tell you, Mr. ’Olmes. Gawd knows what it must have felt like when he was looking straight at you.”

As he spoke I recalled how Holmes had once described Moriarty’s unblinking reptilian gaze when angered and could well sympathise with the lad.

“Steel keeps saying as how it wasn’t him, which I didn’t truly understand what he meant. How could he be him and not him, if you see what I mean?”

“Perfectly. And then …?”

“And then Moxton turns to ‘im and says — ‘Steel by name but not, it would seem, by nature. I begin to wonder if you are not, after all, cast iron? And iron, my friend, is brittle. It can easily be snapped.’ And then these two geezers finally get ‘old of him and drag him out of the room. It was then I began to get a bit of cramp and me foot scraped on the drainpipe, see, which drew his attention. I was off out of there in no time, Mr. Holmes, I can tell you.”

“You did extremely well, Wiggins. Then later this morning …?”

“Buzzing like bees, they was.” Winged insects seemed to loom large in the boy’s vocabulary. “Packing things in vans. Me and the other lads didn’t dare to get too close, in case they marked us for marking them. But I tell you, gentlemen, I could have sworn they were packed ready for somethin’ like this, ’cos they were out of there in no time at all. That Moxton, ’e must have gone out the back way, cos none of us saw ’im go.”

“And the lady?” I interposed.

“Never saw ’er neither, Doctor. A moonlight flit, I’d call it — ’cept it was in the daylight. And that’s about it for now, I reckin.”

“Well done, Wiggins,” said Holmes. “Here’s a little something for you and your friends. Please give them my best.” And with this Holmes discreetly held out his closed hand to the young man, who palmed the offering with the practised skill of a junior Fagin. A moment later it was as if he had never been. I could see entirely why Holmes placed such faith in the services of his band of unorthodox assistants.

“So it would seem, old fellow,” Holmes reflected when we were alone once more, “that we are beginning to make our presence felt. Moriarty is having to revise his plans and write friend Steel out of them. And while I do not doubt for a moment that the man can be replaced like any cog in any wheel, I do doubt that a cog of that size can be replaced in time for whatever Moriarty has in mind. With any luck we have upset his timetable and will force him into precipitate action.”

“But where do you suppose he has gone — and what about Alicia?”

“Oh, someone in Moxton’s position always has a valid reason for moving his base of operations around his empire. According to Lestrade’s research, the house is only taken on a short term rental. As for Miss Creighton — Alicia — I must admit that young lady is beginning to cause me concern. I fear I may have made a mistake by allowing her to return there but the chance of learning something and the risk of forewarning Moriarty, I must admit, weighed heavily with me.”

“Although the birds may have flown, I think it may nonetheless be to our advantage to investigate the coop. As you know, my dear fellow, it has long been my assertion that wherever any living being has passed, there must inevitably remain some mark, dent or abrasion to mark their passing — some indication that can be interpreted by the true observer. While I change, perhaps you will be so good as to bring yourself up to date with last night’s reviews?” And he threw the pile of morning papers in my general direction as he left the room.

For once in a way the gentlemen of Fleet Street had found common accord. In simple terms they had turned and rent Royston Steel. Few men since Genghis Khan can have suffered such universal obloquy. Only the Clarion was muted and its story of “UNUSUAL DISTURBANCE IN HOUSE OF COMMONS” must have soured the professional soul even of the hacks writing to Moriarty’s instruction.

Even the editorials of politically divergent publications were remarkably unanimous. The country was clearly threatened. It was time for all men of goodwill to band together and support the Government in whatever draconian action needed to be taken to root out the insidious evil in our midst. All of this in the kind of language that would have caused my friend the greatest possible displeasure, had I used it to tell one of his exploits. It was clear that Holmes had succeeded with one bold strategic stroke in diverting the force of public opinion — insofar as the newspapers were anticipating and shaping it — from the course Moriarty had so carefully set.