[SH] BigBang: Dutch Steamship Friesland VII
The Shocking Affair of the Dutch Steamship Friesland
Previous: VI. The Ruse
VII. A Medical Man
Unfortunately, my afternoon was less productive than Holmes seemed to have hoped. I did join the Masons and Mr Carter again in the smoking room, but our conversation never so much as touched the subject of business or politics. I did discover, however, that John Mason shared with me a keen interest in sports, having once played rugby much as I had, and I found it difficult to believe that a man so outspoken and honest as he would be involved in a crime that required so much secrecy and scheming.
Also, his relationship with his brother was not as close as I had previously assumed. It particularly surprised me that Paul did not seem to know that his brother was no longer active in the sport. He showed no sign of thinking anything of it, but I did wonder whether it was merely a supreme piece of acting to hide his faux pas. Had I not known that they were brothers by their strong family resemblance, I would have begun to doubt it. It seemed unlikely that both of the brothers were involved in the criminal syndicate, although my impression was hardly enough to be certain.
I accompanied them to the dining room, but then parted from them to join Mr Russell, who was again eating alone.
“Your wife is not better?”
“And neither is your friend, I take it? Well, such are the calamities of sea cruises. I suppose it would not be a complete experience without it,” Mr Russell said with a wry smile.
“Indeed,” I agreed.
During the day, the storm had abated somewhat, but the swaying of the ship was still rather pronounced. As a doctor, I had been called upon to treat seasickness on various occasions, and it would have been no hardship to give Mrs Russell a remedy that would, at the very least, allow her to rest, but for the sake of my disguise, I had previously refrained from offering my help.
Mr Russell poured me a glass of whine. “I have spoken to a crewman, and the bad weather will probably last for another day or two. We have apparently passed the worst of it, but that will be of little help to the seasick, I suspect.”
“So I fear. Mr Sipkens is now feeling better, perhaps I can do something to help your wife.”
“There is no harm in trying, I suspect. I accept your help gladly, Mr Wilson.”
“Then I shall be happy to try.”
During my relationship with Holmes, I had learned that it was best to keep the medical essentials close at hand, and as my disguise forbade me to bring my medical bag with me, I had limited my supply to what was the most necessary. Fortunately, I had included a simple herbal remedy I had previously used successfully against seasickness. This, in some foresight, I had been carrying around with me, therefore there was no need to return to our cabin to fetch it. I had my doubts whether Holmes would have condoned my actions, but as a doctor, I could not stand by and watch a person suffer when I had the skill and supplies to help.
I would, of course, have to drop part of my disguise, but since Holmes was certain that the Russells were not involved in the crime, I thought it safe. Hence, I accompanied Mr Russell to his cabin and addressed him earnestly as soon as the door had closed behind us.
“Mr Russell, I fear I have not been entirely honest to you. I am trained in the medical profession and for many a year now hold the title of Doctor of Medicine. I cannot tell you why we found it necessary to keep that fact from everyone, but I must ask you to keep it to yourself. I have here a herbal remedy which should be enough to help you wife - at the very least, it will allow her to rest comfortably. Take it, and speak no more of the matter. It is my pleasure and honour to be of help.”
Mr Russell took the small flask from me with an expression full of awe. “You are full of surprises, Mr Wilson. I cannot thank you enough. But I can't accept this offer - surely your friend needs it just as dearly as my wife.”
“As I said, Mr Sipkens is already feeling better. Take it. I trust it will serve its purpose.”
He wrung me by the hand. “Thank you.”
Much relieved for having been able to help, I returned to our cabin. To my surprise, Holmes had stopped his malingering and was dressed in dark clothes as if he were to attend a funeral. His keen expression and the energetic way in which he ushered me into the cabin, however, where enough to tell me that something rather more exciting was on his mind.
“You have found the room, then?”
“So I have. What has kept you for so long - never mind. Change into something that will be inconspicuous in the dark, Watson, and hurry. We have to be there ere our syndicate comes down for their nightly preparations.”
“Mr Carter, Ms Farington and the Mason brothers were in the general room when I passed it just now.”
“Excellent! Now, do your have your revolver? Good man!”
“Holmes, what are you planning to do?”
“To observe for now, nothing dramatic. But it is best to be prepared. We have to descend to the lower deck. There is a staircase at the end of this corridor. Now, as far as I know, we are the only passengers in third class, there should be no one down here. Still, we have to be on our guard. No, leave the candle, Watson. I know the way.”
To my relief, the hallway was still brightly lit, allowing us to reach the bottom of the stairwell with relative ease. Holmes was tense, his eyes gleaming with excitement that boded ill for the criminal syndicate. If he had not given me his word that he would not try to apprehend the criminals this very night, I would have felt rather more anxious. Nevertheless, I kept one hand firmly on my revolver.
“Holmes! I can't see a thing! Won't you light a match?”
“No - if against our expectations some members of the syndicate are already down there, we cannot risk them seeing our light. Here, give me your hand. I should be able to navigate perfectly in the dark.”
We were now in the lowest part of the ship, below sea-level. Here the splashing of the waves against the hull sounded dulled, but much more sinister. The Friesland creaked around us. Coupled with the darkness, it was a disconcerting atmosphere. Once, the ship shook, throwing us both against the wall. For a frantic moment, I lost contact with Holmes, then he clasped his hand around my wrist once more.
“Watson?” he whispered.
“I am all right.”
“We are nearly there. If they have not arrived before us, I will light a match.”
There was still utter darkness when Holmes ceased to move. We had been there before them, then. Holmes let go of my hand, there was some rustling when he dug the matches out of his pocket, a sharp sizzle and the little flickering flame of a match illuminated the darkness. Holmes stood beside me, the match held high.
The light did not suffice to illuminate the walls or ceiling of the room we had entered, but it was enough to discern some piping and wooden crates.
“What is this room?”
“A storage, according to the plan the captain showed me. I have been here yesterday - it is mostly empty but for these few crates. They were apparently planning to fill it with goods in Curaçao. Either way, it is enough space for a good many people.”
“But it is utterly dark down here!”
“Yes, certainly. We are below sea-level, there are no portholes. Slave trading is not a pleasant business, Watson.” Holmes lit another match and walked further into the room. “We shall sit down behind these crates here, and observe. I have no doubt that something will transpire during the course of the night.”
“What is this piping?”
“Steam valves and pipes, if I am not much mistaken. Also, perhaps, water for the cabins. I have made a small study of the workings of the ship before we came here. It really is quite interesting.” Holmes said down behind the crates, indicating me to do the same.
“Have your revolver at ready, Watson, in case we need it. Now, we have to sit in darkness and wait.”
Next: VIII. Mr Peterson