A Study in Lavender: Queering Sherlock Holmes (19 page)

And that brought up another insignificant, irritating toast crumb of dissatisfaction that I’d noted. Holmes had pointed out that I, not being an invert, ought to consult expert opinion about helping Jack, but Holmes did not include himself among those who were not inverts and needed advice… Of course, though, Holmes never felt in need of advice.

So much for the ‘obvious’ hypothesis – that I would be the best authority. Next, according to the method Holmes had prescribed, I needed with equal dispassion to examine the contrary hypothesis.

Might Tanny be the better judge? Yes, in all honesty, perhaps he would. Tanny’s livelihood depended on being able to recognize inverts quickly. And his chance to stay out of prison depended on not approaching the wrong man.

But, really, none of this was the point – not this inconclusive, finicky reasoning. It was, rather, something that came to me all at once, not step by creaky step. Namely, it was the picture of the invert that Hopkins had drawn for me; it coincided too exactly with my own picture of Holmes as a detective. The invert, according to Hopkins, would grow up in a world where up was down and day was night. He would be indifferent to clues that I depend on for my navigation, but exquisitely sensitive to others I knew nothing of. He can, and must, act this way because the values he places on the events the clues signify differ from mine. He doesn’t want what I do, and the things he wants are forbidden and shared by only a few others. He would learn, as a young man, to live in a world that’s physically the same as mine, but has another interpretation. To live safely, he’d have to predict my picture, then secretly, without comment, follow his own picture through the obstacles my ideas place in his way. It was Holmes’s glory, as a detective, to come upon a scene that others find misleading, ignore their delirium utterly, and imagine the reality afresh.

I do not at all make the silly assertion that only an invert can become a great detective. In Holmes’s case, though, that seemed the more natural hypothesis – especially when combined with another idea that came to me now in a single realization. I had always felt that Holmes was an emotionally cold man, and I’ve depicted him that way – as an exception to the laws of the heart other men must follow. I, like the Scotland Yard detectives Holmes had been sarcastic about, had defended my hypothesis manfully when it didn’t fit the facts – for Holmes could have an intense warmth in imagining solutions and a boundless energy in action. Rather than think of his feelings as severely crippled, off again and on again, was it not more plausible to see him as a warm man who was disciplined in the execution of his work and who had a private life he rigorously must hide?

Earlier in my meditation, I’d questioned how anyone could find what Holmes chose to conceal. Now, I was supposing I’d found something. The answer must be that he had been letting me. If so, why did it take thirteen years for him to tell his secret? Would he fear I might betray him? That seems not possible. But suppose he’d simply blurted it out some evening when we were in our armchairs by the fire. Could he have expected me, in that way, to understand? Tanny and Jack now offered him opportunities to illustrate himself to his friend. In acts of kindness and trust, he was leaving clues.

5. The Chase

Holmes hadn’t returned by morning.

I received a visit from Jack Wright, along with breakfast. He reminded me that Holmes promised I’d teach him to write stories. I reminded him that, come Michaelmas Half, he’d be at school and he should prepare by following the work assigned by the tutors we’d hired. They’d found that, although Jack knew more than boys his age in some subjects, he knew less in others.

“They always start out well, but they get out of control. Every chapter, I try to make it more exciting. The hero gets more and more in danger, so the reader wonders how I’ll get him out of it. But eventually,” Jack sighed, “he’s in so much trouble I can’t get him out. And then the ending is stupid.”

“I thought Tanny might be Arturo Tannero y Vasconcelos, the son of the Spanish governor of the island of Tortuga. He is captured by bloodthirsty pirates, but his father is too avaricious to pay the ransom of gold and precious jewels the pirates demand. So they make Tanny – I mean Arturo – live on their ship and become a pirate with them. His fine nature revolts at committing such grisly atrocities, so he escapes, then goes back with his father’s fleet and exterminates the pirates.”

“Are you sure you know what they want? When you’re a reader yourself, what do you want? Mr Holmes told me you like it when I put physical descriptions in my stories – but they don’t add to the hero’s danger.”

“The only way a writer can make a reader believe something is to believe it himself and let it show. You go astray because your audience is impersonal, so you think they want things they may not. Make the audience individual. Pretend you’ve written your story and shown it to me, your friend, Dr Watson. I question a passage, and you explain, ‘All I meant to say there is…’ Whatever you in your imagination tell me you meant, that exact thing is what you should have written. So, then, write it.”

Holmes came back after dinner for us to keep our appointment in Tanny’s room, where we would make our plan to rescue Eric.

Holmes and I were silent in the cab. I stared at him, wanting to speak, but undecided. I’d spent the day wrestling with my ideas from yesterday. The best notion was that Holmes was an invert and wanted to tell me something about it. Well and good, but what? Was it possible that Holmes was saying he’d refused Tanny because there was someone else he cared for? Holmes had few friends, and so that putative someone might be me. Was Holmes trying to say so? No, I thought not. At least not that it was me.

Another, less intelligent question was this. If Holmes, of all people, could be an invert, then anyone could secretly be an invert. I myself could be an invert. I certainly felt a powerful emotional bond with Holmes. But, no. I had too much evidence that my romantic sympathies were oppositely directed. Sanity must prevail.

A related, supremely stupid thought passed through my mind. Even though I would not return any attraction Holmes had for me, I was hurt and rejected to think he felt none.

This last worry led to one not so far-fetched. I might not be an invert, and Holmes might not be interested in me that way; but what, after all, was my place in Holmes’s life? Why did he allow me to tag along? He insisted I was important, but it was hard to see that. I was of a certain physical strength. I was not afraid of a fight and could handle a gun. Was that the extent of my duties?

Could he need my brains? No.

What rubbish!

Tanny seated Holmes and me comfortably on the two stuffed chairs in his room. He perched on the edge of his bed. I say “perched,” for he sat rigidly with his ankles crossed and his heels on the floor and he had an almost fixed stare, fearing the outcome of Holmes’s researches.

Tanny sighed with relief. He slumped back, resting awkwardly against arms stretched and propped on the bed. “Thank you for that, Mr Holmes.”

“Eric was not completely truthful with you in telling his past. Would that bother you?”

Tanny scowled and sat up again. “No. Why would you think that? Who in my business tells the truth about his past? All I hope for is that Eric told me the truth in each present moment and intended to go on doing so.”

Holmes continued, “In my role as a detective, I do not verify intangibles like love. But I have no sense that Eric was ever false in his declarations to you.”

“How could that be? He left me.”

“The man who led Eric away is Linton Soames, a major in the Wessex Guards. The officer you saw three weeks earlier was an unrelated man in the same regiment. His uniform told Eric that the person he feared most had returned to England.”

Holmes gave a sarcastic little laugh. “I see you are not acquainted with some darker customs of the gentle classes. When such people find themselves with an unsightly dependent – a mentally unbalanced daughter or a son whose conduct on the battlefield is unsatisfactory – then, for the sake of what they call ‘decency,’ they lock them secretly in their own room for life. Perhaps decades later, when he or she dies of natural causes, the body is walled up. Eric has been confined to his bedroom for ten months and is intended to stay there forever. I have seen the bars on the windows.”

“His family would do that?”

“The major intended to kill him and only relented after their mother begged imprisonment as a mercy. I heard the story from their young brother, Andrew. Though Andrew is not an invert, he and Eric grew up friends in their common defence against Linton. Andrew knew where Eric had disappeared to, and he knew about you. Linton extracted the secret from him on the false pretence that the family must, without harming Eric, restore him and protect him from the police. Andrew loves Eric and repents his folly in telling Linton. He will help us.”

“Inspector Hopkins views Eric’s kidnapping gravely, and unless provoked otherwise he will confine his attention to that crime and not enquire into Eric’s previous activities, or yours. Hopkins has agreed to regard you as an agent of the Metropolitan Police in this matter. Otherwise, your part would be illegal.”

Holmes continued, “The officers of the Queen’s Wessex do their drinking at the Ram’s Head tavern. Major Soames goes there often, but not every night. You, Tanny, must watch for an occasion to talk with him and then lure him away to a private meeting – on the following night – at the very warehouse where you and Eric had your adventure. So, you will go to the tavern each night and drink with Dr Watson, who will pose discreetly as your client but will have his gun with him.”

Tanny laughed. “What, Dr Watson as a punter? It’s too ridiculous.”

“Watson would not fool an invert, but he only needs to fool Linton. Tanny, you should imply to Linton you think he was Eric’s client and you are resentful: Linton could have a better time with you than he ever had with Eric. Linton will remember you and think you are foolishly deluded. He will think your memories are too active and a risk to his family’s honour, and he will be sorry he did not kill you months before when he was still sure of your address. He will expect you to be vapid, to be lascivious, to be greedy for money. Do not wake him from his prejudices; do not let him think you could be intelligent or dangerous. On the other hand, do not play your part so perfectly that you make him suspicious.”

“I understand.”

“What you must on no account do is to let him get you alone in a quiet corner of the Ram’s Head or outside. Do not let him close enough to lay hold of you and force you to go with him. Beware that he doubtless moves quickly, unexpectedly. Your safety is in his unwillingness to create scandal in front of his brother officers. Otherwise, he will kill you and will require no weapon to do it. If he asks you to go with him, then point to Dr Watson, who is already your customer. Offer to meet Linton the next night outside the warehouse and make him believe you want to show him you’re better than Eric, for a price. He will see that that’s his safest chance. Once you’ve spoken with him, you and Watson must go outside and get into a cab.”

I asked, “And what will you be doing?”

“I will be occupied.”

On the way home, my thoughts fell back into their rut. Holmes needed me to protect Tanny with my strong arm and my gun. Did he need me for anything else?