‘I’ll do my best, Holmes,’ I retorted, hurt.
The next day I breakfasted alone after a restless night. I could wait no longer. It was time to grasp the nettle. I left Holmes a note. Given we would be in the Bernese Oberland and in striking distance of the Reichenbach Falls, would he consent to a photograph for the Strand, the Christmas edition? A commission of six hundred guineas was on offer. I confessed I had already spent a hundred guineas upfront. I grabbed my hat and hurried from our lodgings. Some hours later I returned, sick with trepidation. Holmes greeted me cordially.
‘Good day, Watson,’ he offered.
‘Good day to you too, Holmes,’ I responded anxiously. My note, now open, still lay among the uncleared dishes.
‘Isn’t it a wonderful time of the year!’ my comrade went on. ‘See how our plane tree contemplates unfurling its leathery - ’
‘Holmes!’ I intervened, with an admonishing look.
He pointed through our window at the sky.
‘And the moon at this time of the year! Even by day see how clearly the mountains...’
‘Holmes!’ I yelped, ‘for Heaven’s sake!’
He dropped his arm and peered at me.
‘Was there something you wanted to discuss? I seem to remember - now what was it?’
‘Your decision, Holmes, your decision!’ I cried, pointing at the breakfast table.
He went to the Sanderson camera and posed by it, chuckling. ‘I’ve decided to go along with your wishes, Watson. However, I have a further condition,’ he said in a serious tone. ‘We must cut and run if Colonel Moran discovers our enterprise. I have no intention of helping you shake hands with St. Peter so far ahead of your natural term. The terrain around the Falls could not be better designed for a master assassin with a telescopic sight. Other than your cumbrous service revolver, we shall be armed only with my Penang Lawyer.’
‘You appear to have given this some thought, Holmes,’ I replied. ‘Do you have a plan to forestall Moran? ’
‘I do,’ he affirmed. ‘I think the Colonel should pay a visit to Ceylon.’
‘Ceylon?’ I exclaimed.
‘As a matter of health.’
I gawped. The Crown Colony was not famed for its health-giving properties. Filarial diseases had spread throughout the Island of Ceylon as far back as the invasions of the Kalinga kings in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries.
‘For his health?’ I exclaimed, astonished.
‘Not his health, Watson. Ours.’
‘And how to you propose to accomplish that, may I ask? What if our Colonel doesn’t want to visit Ceylon?’
Holmes replied, ‘We shall offer ourselves as bait like the naked ankle to the malarial mosquito. ’He picked up the old clay pipe he dubbed his ‘counsellor’.
‘We shall insert a 6-liner in the newspapers.’
The cost of inserting an advertisement in the principal papers was not inconsiderable, varying from 2/8d to 3/6d for a 4-line minimum in The Chronicle, Standard, and Globe, and a hefty two shillings per line in The Times. The six-line notice which led to the solution of The Adventure of the Naval Treaty had cost me nearly two weeks’ Army pension which I had failed to recover from Holmes. I resigned myself to another attack on my insubstantial pocket. With our lives at stake there was nothing to do but pursue the subterfuge. I took out my note-book.
‘I’m ready, Holmes,’ I said. ‘Would you like to give me the wording?’
‘Commence with the heading Substantial Remuneration, not less than 150 Guineas, followed by, Wanted. Guide well acquainted with Ceylon, in particular Adam’s Peak .Knowledge of Tamil and Arwi useful. All expenses. Able to leave immediately for up to three months. Apply by letter to Mr. Sherlock Holmes of 221B, Baker Street, London.
‘That should do it,’ he ended. ‘I suggest you send it to all the newspapers Moran might conceivably read, including the morning editions. ’Holmes pointed to Lloyds List,
‘I’ve checked the movement of ships. The newest and largest Jubilees of the Peninsular And Oriental sail weekly from the London Docks to Aden and points east. The next liner to sail is the Victoria. We shall let it be known we intend go by train to France and board her at Marseilles, thereby avoiding the Bay of Biscay at this time of the year. Our guide must go aboard in London. He’ll be half-way to India before he can check out the entire passenger list - every decrepit Italian priest, every down-on-his-luck goatee beard and a swagger. To boot, Moran will lose himself a pocketful of money for the each way fare.’
‘Why Adam’s Peak?’ I asked.
‘On the summit of the mountain is a single footprint revered by all three Eastern religions. To the Buddhist it is where the Gautama momentarily rested his foot on his flight to Heaven. For the Moslem it is where Adam, having been expelled from the Garden of Eden, stood on one leg for a thousand years before being reunited with Eve on Mount Ararat.’
‘And to the Hindu?’ I enquired.
‘It’s the Sacred Footprint of Siva, the god of destruction and wrath.’
I frowned. ‘Why would Moran find Adam’s Peak of interest? He’s not known to be a connoisseur of Eastern religions.’
‘The peak’s above 7000 feet,’ Holmes continued. ‘It can only be reached from the village of Maskeliya by a journey of some eight miles on foot over open mountainside. Moran will envisage many a nook and cranny among the vegetation and rocks to exercise his shooting finger. Given the occasional elephant trampling through the tea-plantations he is perfectly entitled to carry a bespoke double rifle.’
I replaced my notebook in a pocket.
‘Oh, and Watson, given the high possibility the deceased Moriarty’s tentacles have spread into Cox’s Bank, on your way back can you pop in the bank for some rupees. Then as a treat, I suggest we invite Mrs. Hudson to prepare us a pint of oysters and a couple of brace of cold woodcock followed by a bottle of that choice little Ferreira Garrafeira Vintage Port 1863 delivered to us at the instance of your friend the Prince Regnant of Bulgaria.’
I had reached the door when my comrade called out to me in an unusually serious tone.
‘If anything happens to me because of our trip, don’t have me cremated before you have removed the £1000 banknote stitched into the lining of these trousers. That should be enough to get you home and a little more besides.’
I decided to purchase two one-thousand rupee banknotes and a suitable assembly of 10 rupee notes with as much ostentation as possible and our Swiss francs with the least. My walk took me through the Inns of Court. I halted for a moment outside the Henry Fielding Hotel, my first lodgings on returning from Afghanistan. The hotel rates(albeit including illuminating gas) were uncomfortably high for my wound-pension. Recollections flooded back. Though I missed the camaraderie of the regimental mess, I was glad enough to exchange the cobra of the Afghan hills for the common adder but bitter that Afghanistan had taken away youth, strength and energy and left me with a damaged tendo Achillis. However, my time on the North West Frontier, by way of compensation, left me with a vast accumulated knowledge of the science of medicine.
The bank manager handed me the rupees. Would he also, I asked casually, provide me with a supply of Swiss currency - explaining the Swiss francs were for a trip following our return from Ceylon.
‘Dr. Watson,’ he replied expansively, ‘English sovereigns and bank-notes are gladly received everywhere. Why should you and Mr. Sherlock Holmes concern yourself with the Swiss franc?’