Dr. Watson has given us the impression that Sir Charles Baskervilles death was caused by the sight of a ferocious hound. The legend of the Hound of Baskervilles and his weak heart also played a part in the death. But nothing is quite that simple. Truth is sometimes stranger than fiction.
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What caused the death of Sir Charles Baskerville?
Was it the hound? No. Was it Moriarty’s brilliance? No. It was salt that killed
him. A handful of table salt. How strange isn’t it? The most harmless things in
life can be so life threatening if it is in the wrong place at the wrong time.
In this particular case, the salt was on my shoulders. Let me take you back to
the events of 13th January, 1885.
I had just returned from my visit to Devonshire. It
had been a hard and futile trip and I was completely exhausted.
“It can’t be done, Jim. It just can’t be done.” I said
with a sigh.
“What do you mean, Sebastian? Nothing is impossible.
If there is a will there is a way.”
“Not there. Atleast not in Devonshire. You should
have seen the place. Baskerville Hall. It is situated on the
top of a hill. The
mansion is itself surrounded by barren land that is sprinkled with deadly
swamps. The village folk call it the Grimpen Mire and it is a grim place. The
whole place gives the vibe of a haunted place and I saw it in broad daylight! I
wonder how it looks like in the dark especially in the fog.”
“Am I hearing right? Is the famous Colonel Moran
scared?”
“Oh, come on, Jim. I am not scared, Jim. I am just
cautious. Going out there at night is like committing suicide. One false step
and you are dead. We can’t carry any light with us as it would be easily
visible from the mansion. Once we enter the estate grounds, we are trespassers.
He can shoot us and get away with it.”
“It will be a fine irony! The murderer getting
murdered!”
“And suppose by some miracle we get into the grounds
unnoticed, the target stays in the top floor. We won’t be able to get enough
elevation to take the shot. So we will have to commit the crime during the
day.”
“Why not just enter the house and put a knife
through his heart?”
“Do you know the floor plan?”
“Nope.”
“Well, if you get inside such a mansion without a
map, chances are that you will end up getting lost rather than finding the
target.”
“Can’t Stapleton provide us with a map?”
“I already asked him. He has entered the living room
and dining room. The rest of the mansion is a mystery to him as well. Clearly,
the target doesn’t entertain many guests.”
“Stop calling him the target. For Christ’s sake the
man has got a name. Show some respect.”
“It would be better we objectify him. Otherwise we
may feel guilty after the crime.”
“Guilt is a part of it. Deny the crime is
pointless.”
“O.K. Sir Charles doesn’t have many visitors. The
place is so old that you will hardly find a proper plan.”
“What about the servants?”
“The Barrymores have been with the Baskervilles for
generations. They are beyond bribe.”
“What about threats?”
“We have no leverage. Their world is within the
walls of the Hall. Killing Sir Charles is the only threat we can make… and that
would be meaningless.”
“What about friends or family?”
“None whatsoever. The only family they have is Mrs.
Barrymore’s brother Seldon.”
“Well, threaten to kill him. Maybe she will comply.”
“It won’t be fruitful. Seldon is in prison. He is
been sentenced to death in the Notting Hill murder case.”
“Is two servants all they got?”
“I heard Sir Charles is planning to hire a few
hands. You know, to renovate the mansion and all. But its not certain when he
will do it. Might take months. And probably they will be from the village.
Those folks don’t take a liking to outsiders. I came across quite a few
villagers during my way up the hill today. They were looking at me as if I were
an alien. I tried to evade their gazes by going off the road and making my way
through the fields. The only thing I learned from that was most villagers don’t
stick to the roads. When I went to the local pub, I had to face a barrage of
questions. Who am I? Why was I here? Where was I going?”
“Why did you go to the pub?”
“A man does feel hunger. Anyway, I was also able to
get some rumors on our friend Stapleton. It seems he had other interests in
pretending to be a bachelor. The guy seems to be having an affair with one
Laura Lyons.”
“I am beginning to dislike our client more and more
as the days pass. That guy is pure evil. But let’s get back to the case. If we
can’t kill Sir Charles in the mansion, then we will have to take him out when
he comes out of his lair. A man like him will come out to the village often
enough.”
“Unfortunately, not very often. The guy’s got a weak
heart. Dr. Mortimer goes to the mansion to check on him. The doctor has advised
him to not take food from outside. So that rules out poisoning.”
“That is interesting.”
“What?”
“Why take so much trouble to kill a dying man?”
“Oh, he is not that ill. He has got a weak heart but
its probable that he will live for another five years… unless ‘an accident’
happens.”
“So he never goes out?”
“He goes to Mass on Sundays. But if you attack him
at close range, you won’t be able to make it out of the village alive.”
“What about long range?”
“The winds won’t guarantee a good shot. The chances
of missing are quite high.”
“I think I am beginning to like this case.”
“And why is that?”
“Because it presents us with a challenge.”
“I suggest we wait till he makes a trip to London.
People get mugged in the streets every day. It will be a clean crime.”
“Maybe but it will be unremarkable. This is my first
crime. I want it to be memorable.”
Frankly, I didn’t like the way he was thinking. He
was dealing the case as if it was a problem in one of his textbooks. He was
analyzing all the roadblocks and trying to overcome them. You could solve a
crime in that fashion but you can never plot a crime that way. Plotting a crime
is not like solving a problem, its like inventing something new. You will have
to think out of the box. You will have to wait for that one moment of
inspiration and then grab it.
“Jim, our chances are quite slim. The conditions are
unfavorable. I think its best to leave the ‘perfect crime’ for a more favorable
day. Lets just get this job done. In our desire to commit a remarkable crime we
may end up getting caught. I have known many who sacrificed their lives for the
sake of their vanity.”
“I must disagree with you, Sebastian. On the
contrary, conditions couldn’t be more favorable. We have the perfect place to
commit a crime. The Grimpen Mire. All this time I was merely waiting to see
whether you would suggest it. As you yourself said, Baskerville Hall is
situated in a death pit. All we need to do is give him a small push.”
“But how are we going to do that?”
“I will have to think about that. Meanwhile, I
suggest you take a shower. The eggs are in the kitchen.”
“I ate from outside.”
“No. The eggs are for your head.”
“What?”
“You obviously have a dandruff issue.”
“Of course, I know of the remedy for dandruff but I
don’t have dandruff.”
He pointed to my shoulders.
“Oh, that! That’s not dandruff. That’s salt. When I
was in the pub, a superstitious fool threw salt over his shoulders.”
“Oh! I am
sorry. I just didn’t pay much- Wait! That’s it! That’s what will drive Sir
Charles to his death!”
“Salt?”
“No. Superstition. The guy has got a weak heart. He
lives in a place that seems to be taken out of a horror story. All we need
right now is a ghost!”
“You are crazy, Jim. He won’t get a heart attack, if
we go out there dressed as ghosts. He ain’t gonna believe in ghosts all of a
sudden.”
“What if we create a tale? A tale just for him.”
“Come on. These things don’t just sprout out of the
ground overnight. They take time. They have to be passed from generation to
generation. Of all the things that man can accomplish there is one thing which
is beyond his grasp. Time. Time and tide waits for no man.”
“But what if it waits for Moriarty?” He asked with a
confident smile.
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