THE CASE OF THE HAUNTED HEARSE


a Fetlock Holmes Story


© Elizabeth Jane Andreoli 1994-1997



first published in GOING NATIVE magazine 1994-1996


In the course of my long association with Mr. Fetlock Holmes, many conundrums have been laid before his powerful intellect, but perhaps none so strange as the case I now relate. It was late one winter night that I was awoken by Holmes in a rude and peremptory fashion. I blinked at him in some surprise and a little resentment, for he knew that I was regular in my habits.

"What is it - a fire?"

"No old chap. We have a visitor. He insists upon an audience forthwith, and the tale may prove worth the inconvenience."

I stumbled forth to find an imposing figure pacing to and fro in the outer chamber. He was a horse of mature years, dignified and black, with the grizzle of age upon his features.

"Now sir," said Holmes. "My friend and colleague Dr. Withers is also at your service, and you may speak freely. Pray tell us what has brought you here at this inclement hour."

"My name," began our visitor in sonorous tones, "is Farquarson of Farquarson and Hendry who have performed the last services for the gentry for seven generations."

"Of course!" I cried, having recognised the fellow at last. "The undertaker chappie!"

Farquarson favoured me with a long and steady glare." We provide a complete funerary service undertaken with discretion and sobriety. You will appreciate, Mr. Holmes, that my clients must be conveyed to their final resting place with dignity. The equine staff of Farquarson and Hendry are chosen for their solemn and steady demeanour. We frown upon any tendency towards nerves, or temperament. However the reputation we have striven so long to maintain now hangs in the balance."

"Pray sir, be specific", said Holmes.

"I may rely upon your complete discretion?"

"You may," replied Holmes.

"We are troubled with ..... Manifestations. The rumour is spreading amongst my staff that an evil spirit has returned from the dead to haunt the Chapel of Rest that lies adjacent to the stable block. Flickering lights have been seen and we have heard strange noises at night. You may have remarked in the Evening News the scandalous report of the hearse that overturned when the horses bolted. To such depths has the Firm sunk! Oh believe me, good sirs, this could never have happened in my father’s day. Fortunately our client suffered little damage since he had the foresight to decree in his Will that his coffin be constructed of brass-bound English oak."

Holmes considered these matters in silence for a while. A deceptive torpor stole over his features and his eyes gazed blankly as his powerful intellect seized upon the problem.

"Your story interests me, sir," he said at last, "and yet I fear that you have not told me all the facts."

Farquarson looked affronted. "Sir!" he began, with a steely ring to his voice.

"For instance," continued Holmes, "you have not told me why you have visited the Docks twice in the last few days, or why, on those occasions, you wore covers on your hooves. You have not told me about the new member of your team who took up his post within the last four weeks if I am not mistaken. An Arab, some three hands higher than yourself with a recent injury to his near foreleg."

Farquarson was astounded. "Sir!" he cried "I have heard it said yours is the finest mind in England today, but surely you employ the Black Arts! It is true that I have twice visited the docks at Stepney in the last three days. Two of our clients desired their remains to be shipped abroad for burial. Our hooves were shod in thick black felt to muffle our footsteps in respect for the dead. The Arab whose existence you have deduced, is the son of my partner Hendry. Until recently he was with the Turkish Horseguards, but suffered a knife wound in his foreleg during a border skirmish. I must say I regret the day I agreed to take him on. It seems that the Firm has been dogged with bad luck since his arrival. But how do you know these matters?"

"Observation - mere observation" remarked Holmes. "I note that these is a fine silica deposit on your coat, such as might be formed by a sea-mist. Where in London does a hearse encounter this except at the docks? The black mufflers protected your hooves and ankles from the salt, but see where two faint lines persist. You made two trips, and on one of them the felt was worn an inch lower.

"Yes!" interrupted Farquarson. "I have two sets differently made. One set is shorter than the other."

"You are accustomed to be bridled in pairs", continued Holmes, "and the chafing of the leather wears away the hair of your coat. Yet see - a new track has been worn - higher and at an angle to the old. Your new partner is therefore taller. He walks with a limp - in his uneven gait his shoulder has constantly brushed yours, and worn away your hair at this point here."

"You see, Farquarson. Holmes methods are really terribly simple," I reassured him.

Holmes favoured me with a long and steady glare.

"Tell me, sir," he continued "what was the destination of the coffin that suffered such indignity today?"

"Why - Stepney Docks!" replied Farquarson.

"Yet another foreign burial," remarked Holmes. "What has happened to the coffin?"

"The boat embarked without it. It has been taken back to the Chapel of Rest to await the next sailing, tomorrow at ten o’clock."

"Why did your horses bolt?"

"They say they heard noises within the hearse of a piteous wailing. In their terror they thought they had taken the malignant spirit from the Chapel with them on their journey."

"Was Hendry’s son a member of the team?"

"No. His gait is too uneven for so public a route. I have been keeping him on the small parish business until his leg improves. He was left behind to mind the stables and run small errands in our absence."

All trace of lethargy was gone from Holmes’ manner. Swiftly he made ready to leave.

"Come Withers, come Farquarson. There is evil afoot, and if we wish to save a life, or perhaps many lives, we must go with all haste."

He gazed keenly at us both.

"There may be danger ahead. Withers do not forget your trusty revolver."

Sighing inwardly, I stowed the wretched weapon as I was bid. The mechanism of the thing was beyond me, but it was heavy, and at a pinch could be kicked or thrown into the melée.

We made good speed to the stables of Farquarson & Hendry. All was dark as we entered the Chapel of Rest. There on a plinth lay the brass-bound oaken coffin, lit by candles set at its four corners.

Without warning, an ear-shattering screeching wail like a soul in torment rent the air. It wavered and rang around us, chilling the blood in its evil intensity.

I apologised to Farquarson who gravely allowed me to dismount. Meanwhile Holmes, like a panther on the scent, was examining every corner of the accursed place.

"Here are your flickering lights," he said in triumph, revealing a miner’s lantern with a removable shutter, hidden among the black drapes. "And here, if I am not mistaken, are your wailing banshees, Farquarson." As he spoke the sound began again, this time low and compelling. Holmes indicated some short lengths of pipe thrust unobtrusively through an air vent in the wall. He wrenched them out, and the wailing stopped.

"A simple trick to frighten the foolish. Pan-pipes played by the wind itself. Now sir, let us see why we are so eagerly prevented from wishing to remain in this place."

He turned his attention to the coffin. In the silence a faint but frantic scrabbling, and soft cries of distress could be heard.

"My God, Holmes!"

"Pull yourself together, sir, and get the lid off at once if you want to prevent a death!"

Farquarson applied himself to the task. There, in the silken casket, bound at foot and dazed with drugs, lay a small white filly foal.

Holmes’ nostrils flared. "There is your secret!" he cried "White Slavery! Your partner’s son has abused his position of trust to carry out his foul trade under the cloak of your unimpeachable respectability."

"Holmes! Look out!"

Holmes ducked as a hoof slashed at his head. The Arab had found us and was livid with rage. His teeth were bared and his red eyes rolled murderously. It seemed that he was getting the better of the fight and I felt it was time to take a hand in the proceedings.

Then Farquarson, who had watched all like a creature stunned, gave a mighty avenging roar. Throwing his full weight upon the Arab’s back he sank his teeth into his neck and snapped it.

"It would appear that justice is done," remarked Holmes. "Thank you Withers, for your invaluable assistance."

Gently he assisted the trembling foal to her feet.

"Well, Farquarson, I think we have cleared your little problem up, and our breakfast awaits us at home. Come Withers."

"I am deeply indebted to you, gentlemen," said Farquarson, much moved, "and in token of my appreciation, you may rest assured that on the sad day when you require my professional services, your final journey will be a dignified and memorable occasion."



Modified:26/7/97

Created:25/7/97