“Now just one minute, Holmes.” said Lestrad — his jaw thrust out in his best bulldog manner. “Are you sure you don't want the Queen's Guard and a regiment of Horse Cavalry? What is happening here? I need some solid facts before I go running all over the countryside with a small army — and in a private train no less.”
“First,” said Holmes, “I still have some thinking to do. I have the main plot worked out, but I must go over the ground in detail so that our mission tomorrow will be a success. You know I don't like loose ends. To reveal what I know now would complicate my planning. For example, you, or Mr. Browne might well go running off in your own directions. No — at this point the ship needs just one captain. I will give you all of the necessary details on the train tomorrow. Until then you must trust me. I will stake my reputation on this and be fully responsible for what takes place. Further, I believe I can guarantee that our activities in the next twenty-four hours will place a large feather in your cap and bring credit to Scotland Yard. There you have it. What do you say?”
Lestrad stood silent for a while. I could almost hear the clockwork whirr of the mechanisms in his head as he considered what Holmes had just told us. I was confident that he would make the proper choice. When all is said, the Inspector is a practical man, aware of where his best interests reside. Experience had taught him to take Sherlock at his word.
“I don't like it,” he growled, “but I will do as you wish. I'll see you gentlemen in the morning at Paddington Station.”
That said, he turned and walked out the door.
“Mr. Waterhouse,” said Holmes, “I should like to have a few words with you in private if you please. Dr. Watson, will you be so kind as to entertain Mr. Browne while I take Mr. Waterhouse into my room?”
“Certainly, Holmes,” I replied as they left.
I spent the time in conversation with Mr. Browne. All the while making every effort to steer the talk away from our little problem so as not to let slip any of the information I was privy to.
Holmes and Waterhouse appeared in less than ten minutes. Holmes went to the mantle, picked up his old briar and set it alight with a coal from the smallish fire.
“Mr. Browne,” said Holmes, “I am sending Mr. Waterhouse on his way. I have given him the necessary instructions for a task that he has to perform. I think it now would be advisable for you to go and make the arrangements for our journey tomorrow.”
“Very well, Mr. Holmes,” said Browne, with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I am a bewildered man, but like Inspector Lestrad, I will do as you say and hope for the best.” Turning to his companion, he said, “Come along, Mr. Waterhouse.”
After shaking hands all around, the two men went out the door and Holmes and I were left alone. “Holmes,” I said, “I have no inkling of your plans, but I am concerned about Mr. Waterhouse. I would not describe him as a stalwart fellow. I hope you have confidence in his ability to perform the task you have given him.”
“Oh,” Holmes replied, “I know he will comply, because in return for his cooperation, I gave him my word that he would not be prosecuted for his participation in the robbery. I have exchanged one small minnow for a much larger fish.” I was bewildered and my face must have shown my puzzlement. “I’ll answer your unasked question,” Holmes continued. “I always look askance at coincidence, Watson. Here we have two steam engines developing mechanical problems at critical moments — really? And then there is Mr. Waterhouse telling the Oakhampton people to stay in place. Why would he do that? It is not logical unless he had beforehand planned to create a delay of at least one additional hour.
“When I confronted him with my speculations, he wilted instantly. In addition, he confessed that the promised cash reward never materialized. He was a failure as a criminal and I greatly doubt he will transgress in the future.”
I knew that further questions would be pointless so I began to think of how to occupy my time for the rest of the day.
“Dear fellow,” said Holmes, “it seems we have a free evening ahead of us. If you are in the proper mood I suggest a pleasant, if not intellectual, hour or so at the Trivoli Music Hall. After which, we may step next door to the Trivoli Grand Restaurant for dinner from the joint and German beer.”
“A capital idea, Holmes,” I said with enthusiasm. “Let me wash up and we'll be off.”
It has always been a source of wonder to me to see Holmes, in the middle of a case such as this, to remove himself completely from the problem at hand. He has told me that it is pointless to expend energy worrying about something when you are not in a position to act. During the whole of the evening I could tell that he was thinking only of the pleasures of the night. Not once did our mystery creep into the conversation as we reveled in the distractions of the city. The hour was not yet eleven when we returned to Baker Street to retire and refresh ourselves for the demands of the next day.
A slow, steady drizzle settled over our Hansom as we drew near Paddington Station in the early morning light. A cold white fog moved among the raindrops, but was not heavy enough to hinder our progress. Other than a few straggling workmen, the streets were deserted.
The station interior proved to be several degrees warmer due, I imagine, to the many gas jets that were turned on to compensate for the lack of sunshine. Although this type of illumination had been around for many years, I still marveled at the men who created and maintained this convenience.
The rest of our party, looking to be a small army of men in uniform, was there to greet us. Some early passengers, who knew nothing of our mission, shot nervous glances at so formidable a gathering of authority.
Mr. Browne immediately led us to the boarding platform where a huge, black beast of a machine sat motionless in the mist. Occasional gouts of steam were blown out of the cylinder bottoms as the engineer worked to keep them hot and ready to go. A steady rumbling betrayed the presence of a roaring fire hidden in her iron belly. It was one of the new Class D locomotives with a high-pressure boiler and gargantuan drive wheels that stood taller by half than the men who ran her. Nothing that moved in all of England or all the world could keep pace with this juggernaut. It spoke powerfully of the importance Mr. Browne placed on these events.
The single car coupled behind the tender proved to be a very elegant club coach fitted out with a bar, dining facilities and a small staff to see to our needs. A glorious maze of tubes and ducts allowed steam from the engine to heat our conveyance. How delightful it would be to have similar features in one’s residence. Regardless of what lay at the end, the trip was to be comfortable and pleasant.
“Holmes,” I said, as I settled into my well cushioned seat, “I must thank you for requesting this elegant transport.”
“I merely requested fast, Watson. Laurels for the frills must be granted to Mr. Browne.”
Our short train started with a surge of power that rocked me back into my seat. Several constables, who were standing at the time, momentarily lost their balance. We were all duly impressed with the power of our carrier.
Once clear of the city we fairly flew through the countryside. The entire route had been cleared so there were no delays at all. We rode for a considerable time in a state of mild tension — trying to relax. At noon, the porters served an excellent lunch to all and Lestrad relented enough to allow his men a ration of “Mother's Ruin”. I am not too fond of gin, so I abstained. At about two in the afternoon, after we had run clear of Exeter, Holmes stood up and asked everyone to gather around.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I thank you one and all for your admirable patience. I know you have held back your questions for these past hours so now I will satisfy your curiosity.”