Sherlock Holmes and the Chinese Junk Affair and Other Stories (7 page)

Holmes cleared his throat as a means of showing his intention that he was about to explain the purpose of the visit.

‘Prime Minister, gentlemen. In a few minutes I want to demonstrate, on a reduced scale of course, the sight which Sir Simon beheld in the underground ballroom of Halam Hall some weeks ago. The vessel you will observe is much, much smaller, but the principle of the arrangement is the same, being surrounded by posts and strands of copper wire, as was the junk at Halam Hall.

‘You will hear the same noise of electrical generators as Sir Simon did. I give you the same warning too, as Rodger Hardy gave to Sir Simon: keep away from the copper wires and do not be tempted to touch the vessel by reaching between the strands of electric wire. If you follow these instructions, you will be perfectly safe. Would you kindly follow me?’

We entered the first of the three workshops. The windows were large, each comprised of many small panes of glass. Needless to say these were almost opaque, covered by cobwebs and the dirt of years. The floor was filthy, the flagstones cracked and uneven. At the rear of each workshop was a raised cabin with windows through which, over the years, countless overseers had kept an eagle eye on a long since dead workforce. Each cabin was reached by a short flight of wooden steps.

I wondered about the men, women and children who had spent their lives from early morning light to fading dusk, toiling away at their monotonous jobs, in this prison-like place.

I suppose the size of each workshop was much smaller than that of the ballroom at Halam Hall. However, dominating the centre of the floor was a spanking new iron boat. A small barge would be a better description, about half the length of a canal boat. We were to find out later, its duty in life was to provide a platform for workmen painting or repairing the sides of ships.

Around the boat were a number of upright posts supporting the copper wires, similar to those described by Sir Simon as seen around the Chinese junk in the ballroom.

I looked at the Prime Minister and compared the contrast between these squalid surroundings and those of No. 10 Downing Street.

I noted he was missing nothing and his eagle eyes were alert and searching as he walked slowly around, followed by Holmes and the three Cabinet ministers.

The Prime Minister, having completed his tour, stopped, turned around and faced Holmes, as if to indicate he had observed it thoroughly and awaited the next act of the play to unfold.

Holmes was at his best, dramatic and precise in his address. ‘Gentlemen, you will observe the craft, which is known by the rivermen as a pontoon or lighter. It is used by workmen when painting or chipping rust from the sides of ships or carrying out repairs.

‘You will observe it is newly built and is sporting a coat of black paint; for this is no pleasure craft, but is destined to a life of work and misuse. You will also observe that only by taking the roof off the building and lifting it out with a crane, can it be got out of the building, the windows and doors being far too small to allow exit.

‘Listen also and you will hear the hum of the generators which, as we stand here at this very moment, are actually energising the vessel.’

We all listened and, true enough, the hum of the generators could be heard from somewhere in the building. Holmes continued, enjoying, I could see, every moment.

‘Now, gentlemen, the energising process is about over and it is dangerous to be present when it actually transposes.’ Holmes paused and looked at his watch. ‘I have chosen an out of the way site on the Thames for the vessel to be transposed to and, if you will follow me, a short drive will take us to that place.’

Holmes again consulted his watch. ‘Let us not delay, gentlemen. My calculation of the time required to transpose the vessel may be slightly incorrect.’

We hurried through the doorway with as much dignity as we could muster. I could not be but dismayed at the danger in which he had put the Prime Minister and all of us. But then, Holmes cared little for his own safety and assumed others were of the same opinion.

During the short drive in the four-wheeler I concluded that Holmes, with the help of Rodger Hardy by means of letter and wire to America, had put on this demonstration to prove to the Prime Minister and Cabinet members that the transposing of solids was possible, and the terms demanded by Rodger Hardy, one million pounds and the envelopes containing the secret plans to be distributed far and wide, only to be opened in the event of war, would have to be accepted.

The risk that Rodger Hardy would not make the same deal with foreign powers would have to be taken. But after all, Rodger was British, his mother American, and despite his family’s poor treatment in the past by an ungenerous government, Holmes must have felt sure he would do the honourable thing.

My thoughts were brought to a sudden end when the coach stopped. We had arrived at the rear of some old wooden warehouses by the side of the Thames. It was a well-chosen site; not a soul appeared to be about.

We alighted and the hefty policemen stationed themselves around so as to block off any casual intruders and, of course, were still completely unaware of the purpose of the visit.

We followed Holmes along a cobbled pathway by the side of the wooden warehouse and, turning the corner, looked down to see the lighter, pontoon, whatever you care to call it, tied up at the bottom of a flight of old stone steps. The slap, slap, slap of gentle waves were the only sounds which broke the silence.

We were initially shocked, amazed and not a little disturbed just as Sir Simon had been on that night at Halam Hall. ‘My God!’ and ‘Incredible!’ were just a few of the exclamations voiced. There was a feeling of fright and alarm amongst us. We didn’t understand the means by which it had been transposed. It was unnatural. We were witnessing the birth of a new era.

The coming of the railways had ruined the canal trade: could this discovery herald the end of the railways, even ships, if the process could be made to operate over greater distances?

I confess I looked at the little vessel with anxious eyes. I was near the Prime Minister and overheard him say to Holmes, ‘I don’t like it. I don’t like it one little bit.’ He paused and again spoke to Holmes, and was overheard by us all to say, ‘I don’t know how you have managed in such a short number of weeks to set up this demonstration, but I must congratulate you. However, I had only wished that this... Rodger Hardy’s “Transposer” thing was...’ He paused and his countenance took on that old worried look... ‘Yes, a fraud, a fake, and that it was all only a huge confidence trick for him to make easy money. This contraption will cause more problems to our national security than it will ever help. I predict it will begin an era of upheaval and uncertainty.’

Holmes smiled and replied, ‘I should not make a judgement yet, Prime Minister; the demonstration I have put on is not yet over by a long chalk.’ He chuckled, ‘The best is yet to come.’

Lord Bellinger looked at Holmes with displeasure. He was not used to such cavalier repartee, especially in front of his ministers. He guessed Holmes was having a private joke at his expense, but the bait Holmes had thrown him and his attitude, although flippant, was not to be ignored.

Lord Bellinger drew himself up and gave Holmes his most scathing look. ‘I do not quite understand that remark, Mr Holmes. If you have more to disclose, please do so.’ I looked at Holmes and detected in his face the expression that he realised he had overstepped the mark with the elder statesman, and was duly chastened.

Unsmiling now, Holmes replied. ‘Yes, I have further facts to disclose, and I hope more pleasing to you, Prime Minister. If you would be so good as to follow me and return to the old workshops again, I will reveal them.’

We took our seats once again in the four-wheelers. I noticed the puzzled looks on the faces of the policemen. Why, they must have wondered, should the Prime Minister and some of his Cabinet come to such a derelict part of London, to observe a lighter moored on the Thames at the bottom of some old steps? Knowing policemen and their habits, they had no doubt sneaked a look to try and discover what it was all about.

The Cabinet ministers sharing the four-wheeler with me didn’t discuss matters, they seemed rather overawed by the whole affair. I was later to learn they had only become privy to the details a few days before and were still trying to digest the implications it could have on national security.

In no time at all we had arrived back at the old workshops. We filed in through the doorway, Holmes leading, followed by the Prime Minister, Sir Simon, the Cabinet ministers and myself, the policemen standing around outside on the pavement.

We entered the first workshop again where we had inspected the lighter. The lighter was gone. Only the wooden poles supporting the strands of copper wire remained.

Although we had only just left the little vessel tied up by the steps, it was still a shock to find it missing. I know I looked around at the windows and the roof confirming to myself the impossibility of taking out the vessel. We all tried to understand how the ‘Transposer’ was able to accomplish this miracle.

Lord Bellinger looked at Holmes and his expression said, ‘Yes, I expected the place to be empty; we have just left it tied up on the Thames, so what are these new revelations?’

Holmes read the expression too. ‘If you will follow me, sir.’ Holmes led us out again along a passageway to the third workshop, ignoring the middle workshop.

The third workshop was identical in every way to the first one we had been in, but it was a shock to see the little vessel back again, just as in the first workshop, surrounded by wooden posts and copper wire.

I think we were all nonplussed at the turn of events. We seemed to be in a sort of Alice in Wonderland situation. Before anyone, even Lord Bellinger, could comment, Holmes said, ‘Please, sir, gentlemen, would you follow me?’

The expression upon all our faces was one of utter confusion. As we followed Holmes up the steps leading to the overseer’s observation cabin I felt a sort of mounting drama was about to be revealed. I was not wrong.

When we were all assembled, Holmes turned to the party and began.

‘I think in the next fifteen minutes, Prime Minister and gentlemen, you will observe better than any way I could describe in words, what happened that evening at Halam Hall between the time Rodger Hardy and Sir Simon inspected the Chinese junk and when they returned two hours later.

‘The Chinese junk was much larger and therefore the time took longer, whereas this vessel is much smaller and therefore will take much less time, a quarter of an hour perhaps. The method, though, is identical to that carried out at Halam Hall.’

Holmes paused and looked at his watch. ‘It is a minute to the hour, gentlemen!’ We waited, the suspense towards the end of that minute was indescribable. I reasoned that whatever Holmes had in store for us to observe, it could not compete with the present tension, but again I was wrong.

We saw Holmes step forward and strike a gong, a gong I had failed to notice before, and as the last of the sound faded away, the door at the far end of the workshop burst open and ten Chinamen with huge flashing machetes ran down the side of the vessel. One Chinaman pushed the poles and wires back against the walls. The others began slashing and demolishing the vessel. Under the weight of this onslaught, the sides of the vessel collapsed, the deck sagged. All this went on at a frenzied pace impossible to describe.

A few of the Chinamen were gathering up the pieces and were carrying them away through the connecting door into the middle workshop and so out of sight.

It seemed incredible that what had minutes before been a solid-looking brand-new iron vessel was collapsing before our eyes, as the Chinamen continued to slash, rip and carry away the huge chunks of cardboard and paper from which it was constructed.

We watched fascinated, spellbound would be a better description. I tore my eyes away for a moment from the noise and mayhem of the frenetic activity to stare at Lord Bellinger. I shall never forget the child-like look that the elder statesman had on his face. It was, I imagine, the joy of observing such unbounded energy being released and seeing the problem which had so wracked him over the past few weeks, dissolving before his eyes.

The fifteen minutes were almost passed away and the Chinamen were putting back into place the poles and wires again. The last scraps of paper and cardboard were swept from the floor. A few moments later and the Chinamen lined up at the far end of the workshop, bowed slowly from the waist and, grinning, filed out closing the door behind them.

The whole demonstration had been pure theatre. The build-up of the tension and expectation was superb, the following performance magnificent.

The look on the faces of all present was a sight I shall always remember. It had been said Lord Bellinger never smiled, didn’t even know how to. Now his face was wreathed in them. He turned to Holmes and held out his hand. ‘Mr Holmes, never in my whole life have I experienced an occasion remotely like this. Certainly I have never witnessed such a sight of sheer exuberant activity.’

Holmes smiled and shook the outstretched hand. ‘I think we can all rest assured in our beds tonight, knowing the threat to Queen and Empire is no longer with us from the Rodger Hardy “Transposer”,’ replied Holmes.

The Cabinet ministers babbled and laughed like school children after seeing a pantomime as Holmes accompanied the Prime Minister to his coach.