Dr. Watson pushed his way through the crowd. The constables on guard at the door recognized him and let him enter while keeping the crowd out.
“Whatever is going on, Lestrade?” Dr. Watson asked when he handed him the note from Holmes.
“They’re angry parents,” Lestrade sighed. “Children from across London have vanished and they want us to find them. And what does Holmes want? This isn’t a good time really.”
He unfolded the note and began to read it.
“How does he do that?” Lestrade asked incredulously. “He’s telling me where to find the children.”
Dr. Watson quickly explained events to Lestrade who lost no time in assembling armed officers. They left Scotland Yard and hurried to the colliery with all possible haste.
The train from London took several hours to reach the station nearest to the colliery. A few minutes before its arrival people were gathered on the platform waiting for the train.
“Look at that!” someone said.
From the direction of the colliery a thick cloud of smoke was rising up into the air.
They informed the station master who sent a message to the fire brigade.
What was going on at the colliery?
Sherlock Holmes meanwhile had used his time gathering information at a public library as well as some secret archives that his brother Mycroft had access to. When he had found out all he needed to know he pressed his lips together.
9
When the children ran towards the mineshaft in panic, Edward grabbed Anthony’s arm and said “Bad idea. If we go into the mine we’re in a trap. We’ve got to find some other way.”
When they heard the front door breaking and the angry men rushing in, the boys knew they had to act fast. The sound of footsteps came towards them.
“Quick,” Anthony said, “let’s hide here.”
They hid behind a door. It wasn’t a very good hiding place, but the best they could manage.
A man looked into the room briefly but didn’t check closely. The house was quiet and the fleeing children made lots of noise as they rushed into the coal mine. It seemed obvious to the men that all the children had gone into the mine.
“We’re lucky,” Edward whispered to Anthony. “Let’s go to the front door and sneak out while the men are at the mine.”
Anthony nodded and they left their hiding place. They cautiously left the room and walked towards the front door on tiptoes. Then they froze.
A man with a shotgun was standing guard at the door blocking their way out. The two brothers withdrew silently.
“We need a diversion,” Edward said to his brother.
“What do you mean?”
“Something to distract the man so he leaves the door and we can run out.”
They thought for a minute, then Anthony said “I’ve got a good idea. Let’s start a fire!”
“But we’re inside the house,” Edward said. “If we…”
“No,” Anthony said, “let’s start the fire at the far end of the house and then we quickly go and hide in the room nearest to the exit. When the man goes to investigate the fire we can escape.”
“That’s a great plan,” Edward said in admiration, wishing he’d had the idea. They went to the far end of the building. It was a room used as an office. There was a large wooden desk standing in the middle and along the walls were rows upon rows of shelves full of files and papers. On the desk stood an oil lamp.
“Perfect,” Edward said.
He opened the oil lamp, splashed some oil over the papers on a shelf, lit a match and said “Run!”
When Anthony ran out of the room, Edward threw the burning match on the oil soaked papers.
The shelf burst into flames.
Edward ran after his brother and they hid behind a door again.
The fire spread rapidly. Smoke filled the air and it wasn’t long before the man at the front door smelled it. He went to investigate.
Edward saw him pass their room through a slit between the door and the wall.
“Now!” he whispered.
While the man was walking towards the room on fire, the brothers dashed through the front door towards freedom. They had hardly left the building when they heard the shout “Fire!”
They ran across the open space and hid behind some bushes that stood near the house. When they looked back they saw thick, black smoke billowing out of the window at the end of the house. They grinned at each other.
“That should keep them busy for a while,” Anthony said.
“Yes,” Edward agreed. “But we need help. The fire won’t last forever and we have to get those children out.”
“But they’re safe in the mine.”
“And what are they going to eat and drink down there?” Edward asked. “The men only have to wait for them to come out and what is going to happen to the children then?”
They looked around to make sure there was no one in sight and then ran along the road that led towards the nearby village and its railway station.
They had only gone half-way when they heard the bell of a fire engine. Two horses in full gallop rushed past them.
“Save the children in the coal mine!” Edward shouted to the firemen as they rushed past.
They continued on their way towards the village. A minute later they saw several horse-drawn carts rushing towards them. When these came nearer the children saw that policemen were sitting in them.
“Help!” Anthony shouted and waved his arms.
Edward stood in the middle of the road forcing the coach to stop.
“Help, police!” they both shouted.
Inspector Lestrade jumped from the nearest coach.
“What is it?” he said feeling vexed. “We’re on urgent police business. Out of the way!”
Dr. Watson came up beside the inspector.
“Why were they calling for help?” Dr. Watson asked.
“There are many children trapped in the coal mine and the bad men will hurt them if you don’t come quickly,” Anthony said.
“Quick then,” Dr. Watson said. “There’s no time to be lost.” Dr. Watson took Anthony and Edward onto the coach beside him and the horses resumed their furious gallop towards the burning house and the coal mine that was a hell on Earth for so many poor children.
While firemen sprayed water onto the blaze, armed policemen stormed the house and secured the entrance to the mine. They quickly overpowered the criminals who decided to surrender as there were too many policemen.
Inspector Lestrade looked into the dark mineshaft with misgivings. It was too small for a grown man to go into.
“There’s no one in there!” one of the men under arrest said quickly.
“Really?” Lestrade said and looked at a pile of coal near the entrance. “So where are the miners then?”
“They’re all down there!” Anthony shouted. “They’re hiding from those bad men and they’re all children.”
“That’s right,” Edward said. “They aren’t miners, they’re slaves.”
Inspector Lestrade looked at Edward. “That’s a very serious accusation. You’d better be careful what you say.”
Edward nudged Anthony with his elbow.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s get them out.”
The two boys ran into the mineshaft and vanished into the darkness before anyone could stop them. The men under arrest called for them to come out quickly and made many excuses why it was dangerous for them to go into the mine, but the more they talked the more suspicious Inspector Lestrade became.
“Take them away,” he ordered his men.
It took Edward and Anthony a long time to reach the children far down in the dark mineshaft, and it took them even longer to convince the children that it was safe to come out. When they finally did emerge from the mine, that hell on Earth, the children were overjoyed to find police officers waiting for them. At last they were free!
Similar operations by the police were carried out at a number of other mine
s and thousands of children were rescued.
10
Edward and Anthony were covered in black coal dust, and yet, dirty as they were, Dr. Watson still understood that they were the two boys Holmes had been interested in. While Inspector Lestrade was busy helping rescued children either to find back to their parents, or if they had no parents, to be given a new home, Dr. Watson decided to take Edward and Anthony to see Sherlock Holmes. For the brothers the thought of meeting the famous detective was exciting. Face to face with Sherlock Holmes! The thought itself was more than exciting and besides, as Edward observed, they might need the help of Sherlock Holmes to fulfil their dare.
Sherlock Holmes was back at Baker Street 221B smoking a pipe when Dr. Watson and the boys entered. Mrs. Hudson looked at the boys in horror. She had never seen anyone that dirty before! Even by the standards of the dirtiest boy in the streets of London the brothers looked filthy.
“You’re not coming into the house like that!” Mrs. Hudson said. There was nothing Watson could say to change her mind. She took the boys to the bathroom where they both got a thorough wash, while Dr. Watson went to buy some clean clothes for them at the command of Mrs. Hudson.
When they entered the room Sherlock Holmes was in an hour later he gazed at the boys intently without saying a word to them.
“Mrs. Hudson! I believe these boys are not wearing the clothes they came in,” Holmes said.
“I should say not!” Mrs. Hudson replied firmly.
“Then I want to see their clothes,” Holmes said.
In spite of Mrs. Hudson’s protestations about how dirty they were, Sherlock Homes insisted. He examined the clothes and then turned to Edward and Anthony.
“Now, tell me your story,” he said.
The boys told him about the man luring children and how they had followed him, about the mine and how they had started a fire to escape. When they had finished, Holmes sucked on his pipe, blew smoke into the air and said “I know all that already, or at least I had deduced it. And yet you haven’t told me the most important thing of all.” He looked at them with cold, blue eyes.
“What do you mean, Holmes?” Dr. Watson asked. “That’s how it happened, I can vouch for that.”
“Well,” Anthony said with a nervous look at his brother, “actually there is one thing we need to talk to you about.”
Edward nodded. “Yes, we need your help to catch a murderer and bring him to justice.”
Sherlock Holmes blew more smoke up in the air.
“Tell me about it,” he said.
The boys described the brief scene they had witnessed of the murder of Sir Percy while they were flung through space and time. They added his name and a few facts they had read in the newspaper.
Sherlock Holmes turned round abruptly. “Don’t try to deceive me!” he warned them. “Some of the things you just told me you read in the newspaper.”
The boys nodded in surprise.
“But how did you know that…?” Edward asked.
“What was in the newspaper didn’t match the facts as they were,” Holmes said. “It was a simple deduction that you had read them in the newspaper. That, however, is not the most interesting and important point here.” He paused briefly to suck on his pipe and blow another plume of smoke into the air. “What is much more interesting, I would even say extraordinary, is that you have witnessed the murder of Sir Percy. There was no one in the house at the time he was killed. And yet, the murder as you describe it matches the evidence exactly. Not even the police have fully understood the evidence. Apart from the murderer and myself no one else knows how it happened. So the question here is, how do you know? Now tell me Watson, isn’t that interesting? What is your theory?”
Dr. Watson was thoughtful. “Well, I don’t know, Holmes. There must be some simple explanation. Maybe they talked to the murderer who told them about it or maybe there was another witness we don’t know about yet.”
“Now, come on Watson,” Holmes said. “You can do better than that. Why would a murderer tell two boys about a crime? To make sure they tell the police and he gets arrested and hanged? And as for witnesses, that’s out of the question. The curtains were drawn. Nobody could look into the room where Sir Percy was murdered and we know that nobody else was in the house at the time. No, my dear Watson, the truth is very different and much more amazing if not to say shocking. Just look at the clothes these two boys were wearing. Look at the strange thing the taller boy is wearing around his wrist. Then think about what they know and give me a theory that matches all the facts.”
Dr. Watson thought about everything while the boys waited in trepidation. Had Sherlock Holmes discovered their secret? What would happen if he found out the truth?
“Well, I don’t know Holmes. It’s all a bit unusual, I admit, but there has to be a simple, rational explanation.”
Sherlock Holmes jumped up from his armchair.
“Yes, Watson, there is a simple explanation, and it’s the only one that fits all the facts. The truth is, my dear Watson, that these two boys are from the future.”
Edward and Anthony looked at each other in shock. It was the first time anyone had ever guessed their secret.
Sherlock Holmes watched them closely. “Aha, it is as I thought.”
“Oh, Holmes,” Dr. Watson said, “you can’t be serious. I mean…”
“What time are you from?” Sherlock Holmes asked the boys?”
The brothers looked at each other. What could they say?
“Now come, come,” Sherlock Holmes said. “Tell me the truth and I may be able to help you, but lie to me and I won’t be able to vouch for the consequences…”
The two boys remembered those words spoken in another age “Honesty is the best policy.” It had saved them then and they decided to follow it now. They quickly told Sherlock Holmes everything, their past adventures, how they travelled through time and space, how they had to fulfil each dare to return to their own time and how they had witnessed the murder of Sir Percy after King Hades had passed the dare to them to avenge Sir Percy’s murder.
“Surely you don’t believe all this, Holmes,” Dr. Watson said when they had finished telling their story.
“Can you describe the murderer to me?” Holmes asked.
Both boys described him in detail.
“Now what use is that?” Dr. Watson asked. “Even if it were true not a court in the world would convict anyone of murder based on this kind of evidence.”
“And right you are, Watson, which is why we’ll need to find other evidence.”
“But what are you going to do, Holmes?” Dr. Watson asked feeling exasperated. “This isn’t getting us anywhere.”
“Quite the contrary, my dear Watson. What these children told us has confirmed everything I knew or had deduced.”
“You mean to say you know who murdered Sir Percy?” Dr. Watson asked.
The boys looked at Sherlock Holmes intently.
“That I do,” Holmes said. “All that remains to be done is to arrest the murderer before he escapes.”
Sherlock Holmes sent another note to Inspector Lestrade. Then he and Watson along with the two brothers took a cab towards a house in one of the better areas of London. When they got out Dr. Watson looked incredulous. “Surely you can’t be serious, Holmes? No one who lives here would commit a murder just to steal some antiques, even if they were extremely valuable.”
“I agree,” Holmes said. “And what does that tell us?”
“Maybe,” Edward said, “maybe the reason for the murder was something different.”
“Yes,” Anthony added, “maybe the murderer only stole the things to hide the real reason.”
“Ha!” Holmes laughed. “You’ve got much to learn, Watson. Even these two boys have realized the obvious faster than you.”
Sherlock Holmes walked to a large mansion with the boys and a crestfallen Dr. Watson following. Holmes rang the bell.
“But who lives here?” Dr. Watson asked while they were waitin
g.
“This is the home of Mr. Arthur Mottershead. He’s the cousin of the late Sir Cecil and what’s more, he’s in charge of running the family affairs.”
“You mean he’s responsible for what happened at the coal mine?” Edward asked excitedly.
Sherlock Holmes nodded.
The door opened and they were admitted. A butler took them to see the master of the house.
Arthur Mottershead was already in a state of great anxiety. The police raids at the mines had left him in fear. He expected to be arrested at any moment and when Sherlock Holmes confronted him with the facts about the child abductions and slavery he knelt down in front of the detective begging for mercy.
“And where was your mercy when you murdered your own cousin?” Anthony said angrily.
It was too much for Arthur Mottershead.
“How do you know that? I mean, what are you talking about? I mean,…I”
“That’s right,” Sherlock Holmes said sternly. “You murdered your cousin. Why did you do it?”
“I know nothing about it,” Arthur Mottershead said.
“I think, Watson,” Sherlock Holmes said, “if you look through that door you’ll find all the evidence we need.”
“No!” Arthur Mottershead cried desperately when Watson opened the door. It was no use. Dr. Watson and the boys looked in. There they were, the busts and statues of ancient gods, ancient ornaments and many other things stolen from Sir Percy’s collection. On one shelf was a bust of King Hades. There were still some dried flowers around its head which Sir Percy had put there on the day of his murder. When Anthony looked at the bust it seemed to him for a moment that King Hades winked at him.
“Please, sir, have mercy,” Arthur Mottershead kept pleading. “My poor old mother, she depends on me and if she hears about this…”
“You should have thought about that before committing crimes,” Dr. Watson said strictly.
“Why did you do it?” Anthony asked. “Why did you kill your cousin?”
“Because he found out,” Arthur Mottershead cried. “He found out about the children in the mines and he wanted to go to the police. It would have ruined me. I couldn’t let him do it, but he just wouldn’t listen to me. I had to kill him.”