CHAPTER 4: THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT

THE HAUNT OF BASKERVILLES

CHAPTER 4

“How much?” asked Jim.

“What?” asked Mr. Stapleton, not comprehending the question.

“The pay. How much are you willing to offer us for the cold-blooded murder of Sir Charles Baskerville?”

I was surprised by the way Jim posed the question. He made it look as though we were committing a  crime. True, we were committing a crime. But we were not exactly committing a crime. I mean, Charles Baskerville violated the trust that Mr. Stapleton had placed upon him. He tried to misbehave with Stapleton’s sister. Truly the man deserved death. His fate was his own making. What we were about to do was no crime. It was justice. I repeated that once again in my mind. After all, it’s the right thing to do. I didn’t want to be another Macbeth.

I looked at Stapleton. At least, he was not overwhelmed with guilt. There was a fire in his eyes. The thirst for justice of a wronged man. For a moment, he thought over Jim’s question.

“Mr. Moriarty, I may not be a rich man but this is a matter of family honor. So I am ready to offer a hundred pounds.”

Jim did not reply. A hundred pounds. A hundred pounds for a human life! I used to get double that amount by killing a tiger. Was a human life so undervalued? Now I knew why the Professor was so eager to give us the case. He may not have felt it worth his time. Why put your best men in danger for a hundred pounds, when you can test a rookie? If you win, you get a new hand. If you lose, a pretender goes down. It was a win-win situation for the Professor.

Well, I felt the pay was small. But I prayed that Jim wouldn’t decline the case. This man deserved justice. If not for the money, then we had to do it in the name of humanity. What better reward than to put a bullet in that scoundrel’s head? Also, I could do with some extra cash. Things were quite tight. I looked at Jim expectantly.

“Before I take this case I need to know a few details, Mr. Stapleton. First does anyone else know of the incident other than the three of you? I mean was there any other witnesses?”

“No, none that I know of. We do not have any servants in the house. So there were no other witnesses.”

“Is there any chance that Sir Charles might have told about it to someone, like a close friend, perhaps?”

“I don’t think so. Sir Charles only arrived in Baskerville Hall a couple of years ago. A few months before we arrived. He doesn't have many friends. The only close friend that Sir Charles has is Dr. Mortimer. Mortimer is a gentleman. He would not stand for such indecency, if he came to know of it. I don’t think Charles would disclose the incident to him.”

“That’s reasonable. But he could still disclose it to a family member. You know, like an elder brother. You see Mr. Stapleton, it is important that we know about it. Once Mr. Baskerville is murdered, if someone starts talking about this incident, then you will be on top of the Coroner’s list.”

“I assure you Mr. Moriarty, other than the three of us, and now the three of you, no one else knows about the incident. Sir Charles is a bachelor. He had a younger brother who went to Central America and was never heard of again. Sir Charles lives in Baskerville Hall with only two servants to attend to him. It is unlikely that he would confide such a secret to them.”

“Then we can leave that matter to rest. Since you are above suspicion, there is only one thing remaining to do.”

“What’s that?”

“Framing a suspect.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look, if the police don’t have a suspect they will keep investigating. That may cause some mischief. If we furnish them with a suspect, then their job becomes easy and so does ours.”

“But who will be the scapegoat?”

“The one with the motive. The one who inherits Sir Charles’ wealth.”

“That might prove a bit difficult.”

“Why?”

“Because Sir Charles’ nearest relative is his distant cousin James Desmond.”

“So?”

“Mr. Desmond is an elderly clergyman. He is a venerable man who leads a saintly life. The police would consider him above suspicion.”  

“Say, what about the younger brother who went to Central America. Could he not return, murder his brother and inherit the wealth?”

“Well… yes, I think that is possible. But do you think the police would think that far?”

“Then lets go with the servants. They will make good suspects.”

“That’s unlikely. The Barrymores have been in the household for years.”

 There was a certain uneasiness about Mr. Stapleton. Maybe this was not the way he imagined things would go. Give the money and Sir Charles would be dealt with. That must have been what he had expected. But now here he was plotting the ruin of another innocent man. It was clear he didn’t like it. Ever since Jim began talking about suspects, Stapleton had become nervous. Of course, it is unnerving. I didn’t like it at all. Definitely, what we were doing was a crime. There was no way you could deny that.

“Mr. Moriarty, you boasted that you would commit a perfect crime? ‘A crime that would go unnoticed’. Wasn’t that your exact words? Then why are you now concerned about creating  suspects. Mortan never had to create scapegoats. The police did that job.” said the Professor mockingly.

Jim simply smiled.

“One more question, Mr. Stapleton. What is it that you do?” asked Jim, continuing his interview.

“I catch butterflies.”

“Pardon.”

“I am a naturalist, Mr. Moriarty. I survey the moor.”

“Have you seen Julia and Dwarf Blue?”

“Julia?”

“Nymphalidae.”

“Oh! I call it Fackel! Dryus Iulia is its scientific name. In fact I caught one as a child. It was one of my first catch. I think it is still there in my collection. As for Dwarf Blue, I have never caught one. It is found in the Dark Continent.”

“Abramsarai.” Jim whispered.

A smile spread in Jim’s face. A smile that I had never before seen on any human face. It was not a pleased smile. It was not an artificial smile. It was a smile so brim with evil that it would be the envy of the devil. The smile seemed to make a huge impact on Mr. Stapleton. His face turned pale. He looked as though he had seen a ghost. For a moment, I thought he would faint. His hands were shivering. Then Jim spoke in a small, soft tone.

“5000 pounds.”

“What?”

“5000 pounds. That’s my pay.”

“But – But you agreed for a hundred.”

“No, I did not. I merely asked how much you were willing to give. Now I am stating how much you will give me.”

“What nonsense is this, Lord Radnor? Is this the way you treat your clients?”

Lord Radnor and I were taken aback by the sudden turn of things. The price Jim asked was obviously too high for the poor man but what surprised us was his reaction. He was not surprised or enraged by the demand. He was frightened. So frightened that he didn’t have the guts to even protest or bargain. What did I miss? I kept asking myself. But I couldn’t find an answer. The Professor about to speak, when Moriarty cut him short for the second time.

“No need to raise your voice. It is because you are our client that you are still alive. If you decide to reject my humble offer, then you will have to pay a terrible price, Mr. Baskerville.”