CHAPTER 5 : LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

THE HAUNT OF BASKERVILLES

CHAPTER 5

“Would you like to explain what’s going on, Mr. Stapleton?” asked Lord Radnor. 

He was quite furious. Maybe it was because Mr. Stapleton, I meant Mr. Baskerville, had lied to him. Or maybe it was because he was made to look a fool in front of us. Here was a client, whom he had brought to us and he didn’t even know who he was. That doesn’t do much good to your reputation as a criminal mastermind. Mr. Baskerville was in an unenviable position – between Moriarty and the Professor. There was just one thing I didn’t understand. Why did Mr. Baskerville want to kill himself?

“I…I...”

 “Let me explain. Our dear friend is the heir to Sir Charles Baskervilles’ wealth. So he came all the way from Central America and cooks up an unlikely tale to kill off the old man. Really Mr. Baskerville what were you thinking?”

“I…I am so sorry. I thought you wouldn’t do it, if you knew the truth.”

“Really? That’s all you got to say? Who do you think we are? Vigilantes? For Christ’s sakes, we are assassins. We don’t need a just cause to kill someone. All we care about is the money. Now if you think you can steal that from us, then you think wrong. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Never lie to a doctor or an executor. Keep that in mind.”

“I will.”

“Now tell me, did you lie about anything else?”

Our client thought for a moment. He was about to say something. He hesitated. But then, thought it wise to come clean.

“She is not my sister. She is my wife.”

“Abram Sarai. Good. You have learned your lesson. Next time you say such lies ensure that you cover up that wedding ring mark. Rest assured, the job will be done. Get the money ready.”

“Thank you, sir.” So saying our client made a hasty retreat.

"What's Abramsarai?"

"You ought to read your Bible, Moran."

“How did you know?” asked Radnor.

“What?”

“That he was a Baskerville?”

“Wasn’t that obvious?”

The Professor looked at me. I shrugged. I was as clueless as he was. Jim stared at both of us. Then chuckled.

“OK. I will tell you. Listen. When I first asked Mr. Stapleton the reason, he was completely unprepared. He got furious and tried to leave. But as soon as I hinted that the problem was a family matter he had no qualms in coming out with the tale. Now that sudden change, it raised my suspicions. So I listened carefully to his tale. There was nothing wrong in the tale but later on he kept referring to Baskerville as ‘Sir’ Charles Baskerville. If Sir Charles was actually guilty of the crime, the brother of our so called victim wouldn’t go about calling him ‘Sir’. That ensured that the story was false. Just look at it. Who are the witnesses? The accuser, his sister and the accused. Very convenient, is it not? So, if the story was fake, then Mr. Stapleton would have another motive. And so I started talking about scapegoats. He became nervous as soon as I mentioned about the overseas heir. Now I only needed a confirmation. And lucky for me, his occupation came handy.”

“How so?” I asked.

“Oh come on, don’t you get it? “

“You mean, the butterfly gave you the confirmation?”

“Not just any butterfly, Dryus Iulia, a butterfly that is native to Central America. If he caught it, then he’s been there. It can’t be a coincidence. All I had to do was threaten 

him a bit more to get the truth out of him. The naturalist got caught in his own net.”

“You added the Dwarf Blue to camouflage your intent?”

“Yes. It also had the bonus of checking whether he was from Africa. The chance was slim as Sir Charles would have recognized him. But then, you needed to be sure.”

A smile lit up the face of Lord Radnor.

“Like father, like son.”

Now it was Jim’s turn to appear clueless.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you know why I let you come here in the first place?”

“Because you knew me. We have been working in the University for three years now.”

“Do you see the Chancellor or the Dean here?”

“No.”

“That I knew you was only one reason, I offered you this case. The real reason was 

that I knew your father.”

“My father? But he was a tea planter in Hindustan. How come you know him?”

“Sydney Porter Moriarty had a life before he left for the Venice of the East. We were  partners in crime until he met your mother. She convinced him to give up his old ways and begin a new life in a distant land. Do you know that there was a phrase coined for your dad? He was the only Paddy in London to give the Scotys a run for their money.”

“Scotys?”

“The Scotland Yard Boys. You really lack a sense of humor, lad. Your father was a clever man. Your brothers didn’t inherit his talent for crime. Now I know why. You took the whole thing for yourself. Now let’s see you put it to use.”

There ended the momentous meeting with our first client. It was quite an eye opener for me. Not only were we criminals but our clients were criminals as well. There was no one we could trust. We lived in a world of lies and we preyed on the innocent. Did I feel a prick of conscience? Yes I did. But I knew I could get used to it. In the jungle, you don’t always hunt a man eater. Sometimes, you go after the deer, just for sport.