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And with that, we proceeded aboard the Friesland and embarked on one of the more remarkable adventures of Mr. Sherlock Holmes's long career.
The Friesland was an iron steamship of the relatively new "three island" design, with a casing in the center, a monkey forecastle, and a short poop deck forming three "islands" above the main deck. She bore two masts with limited sail, and Powell estimated her weight at over two thousand tons. She bore the flag of Koehler House, one of perhaps a dozen such ships. As we boarded her, I took note of two large holes in her hull, above the waterline, as well as the jagged stump of the front mast. Still, the ship seemed quiet and secure against the dock, the water lapping gently against it. The Friesland did not look like a ghost ship.
"Early last week, the Friesland traveled from London to Stavanger, Norway. She left Stavanger five days ago and set course for Newfoundland. Yesterday evening, a Royal Navy patrol discovered her adrift thirteen miles off the coast of Scotland, near Aberdeen," Powell said, leading the way to the deck. He was repeating facts he had shared with us earlier in the day in our parlor at 221B Baker Street, perhaps to distract himself from the sights he would soon reencounter. "In addition to several tons of a fish oil product processed in Stavanger, the cargo included an exhibit that the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam intends to share with the Roscoe Clay Hall of Culture in Vanguard City. The collection features paintings by Vermeer and Rembrandt. As far as we have been able to determine, the cargo is still intact." He stopped and turned to face us as we stepped onto the deck. "The Navy ship discovered no living souls on board." He shook his head. "Many of the crew are missing, quite likely thrown overboard. Two American passengers, John and Harold Smith, are missing as well. We found the bodies of ten crewmembers throughout the ship, most shot dead, a few stabbed. And we found three other bodies in the ship's corridors, all dressed in Royal Danish Navy uniforms. Our Navy brought the Friesland here so we could learn the truth before informing the Dutch and Danish governments of the gruesome discovery."
"The ship's course would have taken it near Iceland?" Holmes asked. He was peering past Powell's shoulder, toward the body of a crewman, arms splayed out, laying face down on the deck.
Powell nodded.
Holmes walked purposefully toward the body.
Lestrade coughed. "The Danish government has been strident in recent years about steamships fishing near Icelandic waters," the inspector said, "and the appropriate distance for fishing boats to keep from Iceland has been in dispute. Danish gun ships have chased off British fisherman, for example. The newspapers call it the Cod War."
Holmes, kneeling by the body, chuckled and stood back up. "The only fish of concern here isn't cod," he said. "It's herring. The red variety." He addressed Powell. "I'll need to see the bodies of the alleged Danish sailors," he said. "But I doubt seriously that next week's newspapers will be reporting war between the Netherlands and Denmark."
The carnage aboard the Friesland was grim indeed. The Dutch sailors had not died cleanly. Most were shot several times, and many bore gruesome knife wounds. One had been decapitated, the poor soul's head staring balefully from one end of a corridor while his body rested at the opposite side. And wherever we walked, we saw blood, much more blood than the bodies we encountered could account for. "I'm not sure I've seen its like since the Battle of Maiwand," I said quietly.
Holmes investigated in turn each of the three men in the uniforms of the Royal Danish Navy. We came to the final such body in the entryway to the cabin assigned to the Americans John and Harold Smith. "Aha!" Holmes said as he examined the fallen man.
"What is it, Holmes?" asked Lestrade. "Will you illuminate the rest of us? Or are we simply supposed to stand here admiringly?"
Holmes stood gracefully. "I am but observing, Lestrade, confirming suspicions I've had since Lieutenant-Commander Powell first informed us of the bizarre attack on this vessel."
"And what are these suspicions, Holmes?" Lestrade sounded more curious than querulous now.
"There is no shame in overlooking some of these facts, Lestrade, although that oversight could indeed have led to war between Denmark and the Netherlands. Some of these details could only have been discovered by the most trained eyes." When Lestrade's face reddened, Holmes's eyes gleamed with that peculiar satisfaction they showed when he was able to goad our old sparring partner. "Perhaps I do you a disservice. I presume that you noted that it would be strongly out of character for the Danish Royal Navy to attack in such a way. Even if we hypothesize that the Friesland entered into what the Danish government contends are Icelandic waters, and again hypothesize that the ship was mistaken to be on a fishing expedition, the aggression displayed here is disproportionate to the imagined offense."
Lestrade's back straightened. "I had drawn the same conclusion myself," he said.
Holmes nodded. "And of course you determined that the uniforms were counterfeit?"
Lestrade did not slump at hearing this, but it was clear the information was news to him.
Holmes nodded. "The fabric has the right appearance, in the main. But it is neither strong enough nor well-tailored enough to hold up against the rigors of combat. The costumes of these unfortunate boarders display torn stitching, frayed edges, and mud stains that could hardly have been picked up aboard this ship. Other details, such as the misalignment of the buttons, are close enough to fool only casual observers."
"Well done, Mr. Holmes," Lieutenant-Commander Powell said.
Holmes inclined his head politely. "This next observation is persuasive rather than conclusive." He strode down the passageway. "Come with me, gentlemen," he said. "We will return to the cabin presently, for it has grave import, but I'd like to draw your attention to one factor first."
Holmes led us to the body of an unfortunate young ship's officer, barely more than a boy, blond hair curled in ringlets over his ears. His left hand was split down the middle from warding off a knife, and he'd been shot in the forehead and the left eye. Blood had pooled around his head and his mouth was half open in surprise and fear.
"Dear God," I said softly.
"Eh?" said Holmes. "Oh, yes, quite. Very regrettable. You are always the one with the heart, Dr. Watson. It adds to your value as a friend, but perhaps detracts from your value as an investigator." He drew out his magnifying lens and held it over the young man's forehead, beckoning us all closer. "Look here," he said, tapping the edge of the lens. "This wound is indicative of what I've observed among the other bodies," he said. "A large-caliber handgun, poorly maintained. Not the sidearm of a military man."
"Pirates!" Powell spat.
Holmes nodded. "Quite skillful and cu
"But piracy has nearly died out, particularly in this part of the world," Powell said.
"I suspect that the mind behind this attack venerates the tactics of the pirates of a bygone age."
"But Holmes," I said, alarmed, "so close to the shores of the British Navy? And why disguise themselves? Who could benefit from such deception? With the cargo intact, they didn't even get what they came for."
"Ah, Watson, I often underestimate your ability to go to the thrust of the matter. Who benefits, indeed? Cui bono?" His long legs carried him around us rapidly, his footfalls echoing through the halls. "I believe the cabin we just vacated might answer your excellent question."
Holmes stopped beside the body of the pirate lying in the entryway to the Americans' cabin, forbearing us from going farther. The room beyond was narrow and spare, containing only a single wide stool, two cots pressed close together, a dressing table, a Persian rug, and a mirror. "Lieutenant-Commander, you reported that two Americans named John and Harold Smith purchased passage on this ship, and were sharing this cabin, correct? And as there are no living witnesses, you learned this from an entry in the ship's register."