Chapter 2: "Know the Ropes"
Know the Ropes: Nautical term for being acquainted with the method of a task.
Watson:
The sitting room was dim, the gas only half on, but Mrs. Hudson had lit a cozy fire and it made up the difference by shedding a comfortable glow throughout the room.
I entered before Holmes rather uneasily, for I suddenly felt that something was missing and it took me a moment to realize what.
When a client of Holmes's enters our flat on Baker Street, they are more than often filled with a nervous energy; they pace, fidget, sometimes mutter to themselves, and generally broadcast that feeling of unease into the rest of the room - much as the fire was casting its heat now.
I sensed no such unease when I entered the room; indeed, it was just as peaceful and comfortable as ever, as though there were no client present.
But across the room the man Lachlan stood still near the window, his hands deep in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the shelf of books above my desk.
He was tall and broad shouldered, a few inches above my own height and no more than two below that of Holmes. At the sound of our entrance he looked round and then turned to face us, and I had to admit that he cut a rather impressive figure; but I sensed no menace from him, and again felt that absence of unease. He was singly the most reassuring person I had ever met, and he fit as quietly and easily into his surroundings as a stone on a country lane.
Holmes brushed past me, his jovial mood forgotten in the face of yet another client and yet another case. I was somewhat sad that this period of calm intimacy had been interrupted so soon, but I could not begrudge Holmes his cases, and I myself was rather excited at the prospect. There was, and still is, no finer thing than to accompany Sherlock Holmes on one of his adventures.
Adopting his brusque and business-like manner as he had of old, Holmes approached Lachlan, his hand outstretched.
"Mr. Lachlan…I am Sherlock Holmes."
Lachlan smiled and grasped the detective's hand firmly. "Mr. Holmes, I have heard a great deal of you."
His voice was almost as quiet as his manner, though it was gruff and low.
"Then you no doubt have heard of my associate Dr. Watson." Holmes said, stepping aside so that I could approach.
The smile warmed further. "I have indeed, Doctor, in fact I could argue that it is only because of you that I have heard of Mr. Holmes."
I felt my face flush slightly at the compliment toward my writings and I shook his hand, which was rough and calloused…a workman's hand.
"Won't you sit down?" Holmes gestured to one of the chairs by the fire.
Lachlan sat murmuring his thanks and leaned forward in his chair, his hands clasped before him, and I took the moment to study him.
He was, as I have said, tall and broad, it was difficult to tell beneath the black peacoat he wore but from the way he had moved and by the strength he had shown when shaking my hand it was obvious he was very fit and muscled. His hair was short and fair, a sandy shade that almost hid the few gray steaks present in his locks.
The man wore a beard and moustache as well, trimmed and just hugging his jaw. His face was tanned and weathered as a seaman's always was, the bones of his face were fine with a long nose and high cheekbones and he would have been considered handsome by a good many ladies. His eyes were blue, clean and clear as the sky at sea.
Holmes seated himself in the chair opposite our interesting guest and leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other and steepling his fingers together.
"Now, Mr. Lachlan, perhaps you would care to tell us why you are here. I deal with a great many people but I must admit that I do not often deal with seamen, and never before with a midshipman."
Lachlan's eyebrows rose at that and he smiled wryly. "You say that as if it is some grand thing, Mr. Holmes, but midshipman is not even a proper officer's rank."
"Nevertheless it is obvious that you are well acquainted with the craft, and had you the ambition or rather the luck you would have been promoted long ago."
"Humor me, Mr. Holmes, for I have long wanted to see your parlor tricks, how can ye tell that?"
Now Holmes smiled, always flattered by a chance to show off his art.
"Your complexion and sea legs tell me that you have been at sea for a great deal of time, years not months, the roots of your hair betray the fact that it was at one time darker and was long ago bleached in the sun and has remained that way ever since."
"Sea legs?" I asked in puzzlement.
Holmes glanced at me, irritated at the interruption, but explained. "It is a different matter to walk on the deck of a ship rather than land, Watson."
I had been aware of that fact, but I kept quiet.
"And, when one has spent a great deal of time aboard such vessels, one develops a permanent such manner of movement, particularly the seafaring man," he went on.
"The calluses on your hands indicate that you do a deal of manual labor, but also present are the prints to indicate that you frequently use a pen in writing and other delicate instruments typical of navigation and mathematics. You were examining Watson's medical journals when we came in and only a learned man would find those particular works to be of much interest. Your carriage is quiet but confident…you can and often do lead men but are not accustomed to it. You are a man of hidden talents, Mr. Lachlan, and should have been promoted long ago - .so I must assume that you either have no ambition in the matter or fell upon some misfortune that prevented it."
The admiration was clear in Lachlan's eyes and he looked at me. "Your stories do not , Dr. Watson. You are correct in every particular, Mr. Holmes…now perhaps you would like some information in return."
Holmes motioned with his hand for the seaman to continue, his eyes already closed.
Lachlan frowned at Holmes's odd manner but cleared his throat to begin. I sat on the sofa and drew a notebook quickly from my pocket.
"I have been at sea for most of my life, 22 years in fact, for I left home when I was sixteen and since then have been working my way from ship to ship and crew to crew…several years ago I had a connection in a Dutch shipping company and became a crew member of the steamship, Beschermer; that is where I rose to the rank of Midshipman. The Beschermer was a cargo ship, and our path took us from the Netherlands to Indonesia, where we sold and traded our goods for a new cargo."
"What line was this?" I asked.
"The Lansing line." Lachlan answered, "They even have several factories that manufacture the ships."
"And some event occurred while you were on this Beschermer that you wish to consult me about?" Holmes prompted.
"Actually, Mr. Holmes, it is what happened after I left that ship that prompts me to seek your help."
Holmes frowned and opened his eyes to look at our client but said nothing, merely waiting.
"I left her only a year and a half ago, and no sooner was I off the thing than she went down off the coast of one of the little Indonesian islands, all hands aboard with her. No one has seen her or heard word of her, so that was given as the only explanation as to her fate."
Holmes sprang from his chair, rather irritated, and paced to the fireplace to pack his pipe. I could read the disappointment in his face and the lightness in my heart promptly left it. The sailor's tale was sad, true, but it was not an unusual or even a mysterious occurrence for a ship to vanish at sea.
Holmes said as much and Lachlan looked at him more sharply than he had before.
"If you would give me the courtesy to allow me to finish, Mr. Holmes, then you would see there is more to my story then the simple sinking of a ship."
He had our attention now.
Holmes turned back to him, leaning on the fireplace, his pipe between his lips.
"Pray continue, then."
Lachlan nodded his thanks and went on.
"For the past two months I have been taking a little rest from the sea, and have employed myself as a dockworker unloading cargo and shipments in Portsmouth. Yesterday I was assigned to unload a ship that had just returned from Indonesia..."
He broke off here and for the first time since we had entered the room he hesitated.
Holmes impatiently glanced at me and I gave him a stern look that clearly indicated my feelings. With a slight sigh Holmes sat in his chair again and prompted quietly and patiently.
"How are the two incidents related, Mr. Lachlan? Other than the fact that ships were present in both."
"That's just it, Mr. Holmes, the plurality isn't needed…when I was unloading the ship I was struck by a strange familiarity that I could not shake, and when most of the cargo was unloaded I lingered in the hold on a whim. On every ship I travel on, I leave behind me a small mark…a scratch in the hold. It is a custom of mine and does not mean anything to anyone else, but I have never failed to mark one of my ships."
Holmes was leaning forward now in the attitude of an eager hound, his eyes alight.
Lachlan met his gaze without flinching at the intent glare and spoke.
"My mark was present in the hold Mr. Holmes - and that ship that I unloaded was none other than the Beschermer with a new coat of paint and a new name."
Holmes leapt to his feet again, so abruptly this time that Lachlan jerked back in surprise, watching the detective pace back and forth.
"You recognized the ship after you realized this?"
"Aye, I know the cut of the jib of every ship I have ever sailed on…as well as the back of my own hand. A few layers of paint cannot change that."
"Were any of the former crew present...did you happen to notice any other irregularities?"
"None."
"Have you informed anyone else of this?"
"I informed the Lansing line…and was politely told that it was none of my business, Mr. Holmes." He said this with a little bitterness.
"Which line does this new ship belong too?"
"A rival line, and if you'd allow me…"
Lachlan reached into his peacoat and drew out a grubby piece of paper scribbled on with a pencil.
Holmes took it from him, and unfolded it.
"Those are the names and the rough facts of three ships that I have since found in the harbors of Portsmouth, all of which I have sailed on before…and all of which were supposed to have perished en route to Indonesia in the last six or seven years. Every one of them belongs to one of three shipping lines, rival to the Lansing."
Holmes scanned the document and then passed it to me.
I struggled to read the shipman's sprawling hand and was able to make out the names of three ships, the Devenpeck, the Halse, and the Scranton, each followed by a brief history and the name of the line which now owned them. In every case the ship had gone down with all hands, vanishing without a word, and not even a scrap of debris had been found to attest to their fate.
"All three belonged to the Lansing line, and since the fools in administration seem not to care whether their ships and their men are intentionally harmed I have brought the matter to you."
"You have no personal interest in it?"
Lachlan shook his head and sighed running a hand through his already mussed hair.
"That is a delicate matter, Mr. Holmes…I admit I cannot submit this case in the role of client as I am not a wealthy man and would have trouble paying out any fees you could ask for. But the Doctor's stories indicate you enjoy a challenge, and if you solved this mystery I am certain that the Lansing line would reward you sufficiently."
Holmes's thin lips twitched, "I see you are indeed a fan of Watson's stories. Yes, the case is of interest to me, and is in itself reward enough. But that is not what I meant by the question…why should you bring this to my attention at all?"
Lachlan raised his brows again, looking a little surprised at the question.
"Because I am an honest man, Mr. Holmes," he said simply, "I cannot stand by and see crime done even if it does not affect me personally. This would be a cruel world if we were only worried about our own gain. And…I had not a few friends on the Beschemer…it would be an insult twice-over if I did nothing to avenge their deaths."
Holmes let out his odd barking laugh and his eyes sparked as he looked at Lachlan with something akin to respect.
"That alone is reason enough for me to take the case, Mr. Lachlan. The cause of an honest man is always worth aiding. I really must thank you for providing me with a pretty little problem."
Lachlan returned the smile and nodded, climbing to his feet.
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes. If you have no further need of me I have some business that I had better be getting back to."
"Do you have an address in Portsmouth where you can be reached? Your memory may yet be of service to me."
"That's fine. I'm here in London for a few days, s'matter of fact, an inn down by the docks, Haddock by name. If you don't find me there then a question set to a seaman should reach me right enough."
Holmes murmured his thanks and shook Lachlan's hand a second time, this time more warmly than before.
"It has been a pleasure meeting you at last, Mr. Holmes…and you, Doctor." He shook my hand.
"Likewise, sir," I said, returning the gesture, and Holmes moved to show him to the door.
William Lachlan nodded to us both once more and then left the room…his feet pounding firmly on the seventeen steps.
The moment the door was closed Holmes turned away from it, rubbing his hands eagerly together, his face alight.
"What a night Watson, such a mystery! And such a man! You are both of a dying breed, Doctor, the honest idealist. Quite sharp too - it is not often that a client possess those qualities which I actually find useful. He has a knack for observation, his talents told him what that ship was long before he found the mark. It is a shame that he is wasted on such menial labor; his employers abuse their own fortunes by not promoting him. "
I smiled, watching as Holmes coaxed his pipe into life again and seated himself before the fire with a satisfied sigh.
"I liked him." I remarked, leaning out the open window to watch as his figure disappeared round a corner, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his peacoat once again.
Holmes turned his head and smiled.
"That is another point in his favor, Watson. I am rather inclined to hope that we see him again, for he could be quite useful in this case."
I am amused when I look back on Holmes's words now, for not only were we to see William Lachlan again but he would become invaluable, and little did we know then just how deep and treacherous a puzzle he had led us to.