V. The Mason Brothers
Holmes was not there, nor was the Dutch couple, but I could see Ms Farington and the Russells in animated conversation. From the looks of it, Charlotte Russell was feeling the better for the fresh air, and she was laughing easily with her husband and Ms Farington.
Mrs Charles was with them, as well, but kept an respectable distance.
Close to where I stood, the two brothers were sharing a cigarette, staring out onto the sea. Remembering Holmes's instructions, I joined them.
While it was quite evident that they were related, one of them – Paul Mason, as I later learned – was slightly bulkier, his nose apparently once broken and wrongly set. The other, John Mason, bore his hair longer, and there was a tattoo on the inside of his right wrist which I could not fail to observe as he shook me by the hand.
"It is a pleasure to meet you properly, Mr Wilson. Carter has told us about you and your companion," said John. His voice was tinged with a slight Lancashire accent, which was less pronounced in his brother's.
"We hoped he could give us some tips about how to deal with the Dutch – or maybe you can." Paul offered me a cigarette.
"Thank you. I am afraid I am the wrong man to ask. With the exception of Mr Sipkens, I have hardly had contact with people from this country, and from what I gather, Mr Sipkens is no ordinary Dutchman."
"Ah well, he has to be extraordinary, if he can bear to remain with us Britons for so long!"
The brothers shared a hearty laugh.
Paul stabbed his own cigarette onto the railing and then flicked it into the blue waves curling underneath us in the sunlight. "Well, it would be our pleasure if you would be so kind as to introduce us. We are eager for a chance to practice our Dutch, and the crew are too busy to talk."
"Certainly. I fear, however, Mr Sipkens is a rather bohemian soul when the mood strikes him. It is very possible that we will not see him until the evening."
"Ah, I see." John grinned. "We leave him alone, then."
Paul elbowed him. "Look who's there – Mr Peterson."
I turned around to see the man in question stepping on deck. He looked about himself with an air of annoyance, and then began pacing the length of the deck as if he wished merely to stretch his legs and then disappear again.
"Have you spoken to him before?" I asked the two brothers.
"Not so much as spoken to – he merely has the cabin beside our own. A curious fellow. He was pacing all night, and when we came over to ask if he would join us for breakfast this morning, he slammed the door in our face, muttering something about 'work' and 'no time for socialising'."
"And then, when I returned to our cabin to fetch the cigarettes", added Paul, "he confronted me in the hallway and told me to stay away from him – he said, he was not a man to be meddled with. A very disagreeable fellow."
"Yes", said I, "so it seems." I did well remember Holmes's reticence upon my initial scepticism against Mr Peterson, but, hearing about those events, I could not help feeling justified in my opinion about the man. His business was certainly not one he wished to talk about, and it could very well be a criminal one. At the very least, he struck me as a man who was capable of staging a slave trade.
Holmes seemed to consider the crew out to be above suspicion – which was only justified, as they were all Dutch and had no possible interest in bringing a new colony to the British Empire. I could not help wondering, however, whom of the passengers he did suspect. The only person that had struck me as in any way suspicious had been Mr Peterson, but he alone could hardly be the calculating criminal syndicate we had come to stop. True, Mr Carter's conduct had been surprising, but it had, after all, found a simple and entirely innocent explanation.
After some time, I returned to our cabin, where, to my surprise, I found Holmes, lying on his bed, fingers steepled, his eyes closed. "Ah, Watson. What have you discovered?"
"I had assumed you were still in the company of the Dutch couple – they were nowhere to be seen."
"They have retired to their cabin. Apparently, they find us Englishmen to be a bit... repulsive. No, Watson, I did not idle. In fact, I have had a very enlightening conversation with the captain of our vessel, who has been kind enough to allow me to make a sketch of the ship's layout for my own purposes."
"You don't suspect the Fones, then?"
Holmes sat up. "No, I think we can safely exclude them. They are well and truly Dutch, and very grateful that they were able to find such a pleasant retreat for their retirement as the isle in question. They appear to be rather glad to leave the London fog behind."
"I see. What do you intend to do with the plan?"
"After careful consideration, I have reached the conclusion that our criminals have had access to plans of the vessel before. They are by no means secret. It is obvious, then, that they chose the Friesland for their purpose because she offers the perfect conditions for their plan. We have to keep in mind that they plan to smuggle a good many people onto the ship, or their ploy would never be believable. I hope to discover which of the many compartments in the interior of this ship they are planning to use, as I do not doubt that they will make preparations on this journey. Now, Watson, what have you been able to discover?"
"Well, I have talked to the Mason brothers. They struck me as honest gentlemen, however, they have reported some very suspicious conduct on the part of Mr Peterson. Apparently, he has been very gruff to them, telling them in rather rough words to keep out of their way.
"I also witnessed a rather curious incident in Ms Farington's cabin. This morning, Mr Carter had an argument with her. She tells me he took offence in the fact that you were rather open in your display of your regard for her – or, at the very least, that she did do nothing about it."
Holmes's eyes sparkled with keen interest. "I take it you believe her?"
"I see no reason not to."
"We must keep an open mind, Watson. Merely because Ms Farington is a member of the fair sex, it does not mean that she is innocent. Some of the gravest offenders I have known were women."
"Well, then surely the fact that she will leave the ship in Calabar is reason enough for her innocence."
"Ah, yes. That must have slipped my mind."
Knowing Holmes so well, I found that very hard to believe. There was hardly anything that escaped the mind of the great detective, and for him to forget such a vital fact was positively impossible. However, I could not discover any sign on Holmes's face that he had been joking.
"Well, Watson, are you up for another evening in pleasurable – or not so pleasurable – company?"
"Another game of cards during which you continue to turn Ms Farington's head? For heaven's sake, Holmes, she is engaged! I may think Mr Carter's conduct a bit extreme, but is it really necessary to go to such ends merely to gather information? She doesn't even know you are not who you pretend to be."
"Watson, I must ask you to trust my judgement in that matter as you have so often done before. I cannot explain to you now, but believe me if I say that I do not undertake those actions lightly. Our foe is a formidable one."
"So I have gathered," I remarked dryly.
Holmes gave a short bark of laughter. "Let's go then, my dear fellow, or we will be late for dinner!"
Even though I was now prepared for the transformation of Mr Sherlock Holmes into Mr Stefan Sipkens, it was still remarkable to observe. If any of the criminals we had set out to apprehend did suspect that Sherlock Holmes had been put on their track, it would never have occurred to them to look for the detective in the personage of Mr Sipkens. As much as Holmes enjoyed presenting his line of thought to others and baffling all the world with his deductions, he refrained from doing so now. However, his wit was a sharp as ever, and there were many occasions when his sardonic humour caused a very welcome respite from the intense concentration a card game requires.
Mr Carter had once again joined us, this time in the company of the Mason brothers. Ms Farington, too, participated in the game, however, unlike the evening before, she was now accompanied by Mrs Charles. The lady did, however, not intrude upon our game or conversation, but I had the impression that she was looming over Ms Farington like some ominous shadow.
Mr and Mrs Russell had sent their apologies – apparently, they wished to retire early after the last sleepless night.
I, too, found that the fresh sea air had tired me, and if it had not been for Holmes's insistence that I should accompany him, I would have been happy to return to our cabin.
As the game progressed, Mr Carter seemed to take obvious delight in the fact that Holmes's luck had not prevailed. In fact, I, who was able to take a glimpse at Holmes's cards after I myself had dropped out of the game, knew that Holmes was likely to lose with his hand, but he did not appear to mind. Instead, he once again paid Ms Farington several compliments. To my astonishment, Mr Carter did not intervene.
However, Mr Carter's temper was clearly ruffled by Holmes's behaviour, and when Holmes abandoned his game in favour of the young lady, he rose, bristling with anger. "I have no idea how the customs are in your country, Mr Sipkens, but this is intolerable. This woman is engaged, man! For you to make advances to her in such an obvious fashion befits no gentleman, sir, and no lady to accept them!"
Ms Farington seemed undisturbed. Her chin held high, she met Mr Carter's gaze. "It is none of your business, Mr Carter. If I wish to be chaperoned, I will ask Audrey here. As you can see, she has no objection to such a harmless compliment. I am charmed by your regard, Mr Sipkens. Do not allow Charles Carter to convince you that it is inappropriate."
Carter continued to stare at Holmes, his face red with anger.
Holmes, however, did not move. His face was as impassive as ever, his eyes cold.
"Charles, let it be," said Paul Mason, placing a hand on his colleague's tense fist.
Mr Carter sank back onto his seat. "My apologies, gentlemen, ladies. Sometimes my temper gets the better of me."
"No harm done, I am sure." Ms Farington smiled slightly. "It is rather late, and I think I will retire."
"Allow me to accompany you to your cabin, Mevrouw," said Holmes, jumping up from his seat.
Ms Farington allowed him to take her by the arm. "I thank you, Mr Sipkens. Good-night."
Our gathering soon dissipated after their departure and I returned to our own cabin, wondering what Holmes could possibly have gained by provoking Mr Carter in such a manner. I could but assume that he had wished to discover some secret of his, which could well have a bearing upon the case, and hoped that, in his anger, Carter would betray himself. I had, however, been unable to read anything in his behaviour that might indicate his involvement in our case. His outrage merely struck me as having some characteristics of jealousy, which was only understandable – Ms Farington was a beautiful woman, and as far as I had been able to gather, she had been quite taken with Mr Carter before she had been introduced to Holmes.