The Case Of W. L. Lawens

CHAPTER TWO: THOMAS MACLEAN

Lestrade hailed a cab and as we all clambored inside I asked. "So where is the Ferry now?" He answered me as the cab began to roll.
"My officers boarded it off Westminster Bridge and steered it back to the wharf." Sherlock remained quiet for the ride, and Lestrade and I spoke little more.

When we arived at the wharf I was taken aback by its dilapidated condition. Had it not been for the many officers standing on the docks, and the ferry in the harbor I would have supposed the place completely abandoned.

We exited the cab onto the gravely lot. "That is the main office?" Sherlock asked, pointing to a run down little shack near the dock. "Aye." Lestrade replied.

"Come, Watson." Sherlock commanded, starting off in its direction. I followed and Lestrade shrugged, turning to one of the nearby officers.

 Sherlock rapped lightly on the door before opening it slowly. It was dark and dusty on the inside, With only a faint light twinkling through a smudged window. The ceiling and walls were covered in soot from constant smoking, and indeed the fellow standing behind the counter had a cigarette in his mouth.

"Owner of the wharf?" My compnion inquired amiably. The man gave a slight nod and came out from behind the counter. Once he was near I could study his features more closely. He looked in his late thirties, and had dark, slick backed hair. His clothes looked worn and dirty, however there seemed to be somethng more genteel in his face.

"Hello, sir. My name is Sherlock Holmes, and this is my companion Dr. John Watson. We are investigating the disappearence of the fifteen men to whom you rented your ferry." Sherlock said, shaking the hand the man had reached out.

"My name is Thomas MaClean." He replied, and for but a second I recognized a look of unexpected thoughtfulness flash across my companions face. A look you would not percieve if you did not know Sherlock Holmes well.

It was gone in an instant, however and Sherlock replied. "It is a pleasure to meet you, sir. I was hoping you could assist me in shedding some light on this strange disappearence."

The man gave a chuckle. "I would like to, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot fathom how fifteen men could be gone," He snapped his fingers, "Just like that."

"Do you keep a list of the clients who rent from you?" Holmes asked abruptly.  Mr. MaClean nodded and said. "I will fetch it for you."

He walked behind the counter and bent over, rustling around for a moment, before standing back up and handing us a piece of yellowish paper. As he did so, however, I noticed on his wrist a tatoo of the letters S.O.N.B. I was sure Holmes did too. "This is from the 19th." He said.

Holmes took it and read:

"W.L Lawens + 14"

Sherlock folded it up and put it in his pocket. "Thank you, Mr. MaClean."

"It was my pleasure to help." He replied. We all exchanged pleasantries before Holmes and I exited.

We made our way to where the ferry was docked, and Lestrade stood waiting for us. We boarded it, and I took in the scene. The boat itself looked older in style, and was somewhat small. On the top deck was a little cabin, from where the ship was steered, and there were a few benches placed around the top deck for passengers. It was all quite clean and in order, and I stood by why Sherlock scowered every detail of the top deack. It did not take him as long as I supposed it would, and soon we were led down below deck. There was a small galley,in which Holmes opened and examined every cabinet and cubard, as well as a parlour-like sitting area with long, red cushioned benches, and oakwood tables bolted to the floor. Holmes looked over the cushions momentarily before saying. "Have your officers been down here?"

 Lestrade, who had accompanied us this whole time, said they had. We followed Sherlock back up onto the deck and soon we were back on the dock.

"I have made my observations, Lestrade, but I can not give you a definitive answer of what became of your passengers quite yet. I must mull things over, at least for the night." Sherlock said. "Take the time you need, Sherlock." Lestrade replied, "My officers and I will bring you any new evidence we find."

Sherlock and I hailed a cab. He was quiet for half of the ride, and I glanced at him every once in a while to see him biting his thin bottom lip in thought. He startled me when he suddenly said."What did you make of it all, John?"

"The boat looked ship shape to me." I joked. Sherlock appeared unimpressed by my humor, so I cleared my throat and said. "It all looked practically untouched."

"Very good." He smirked. "And why do you think that is?"

"I haven't the slightest idea." I said truthfully.

Sherlock sighed. "Let me put it like this, John. The only men to board that ship were Lestrade's officers, and ourselves."

I shook my head. "That cannot be. Thomas MaClean said he saw those men board and sail out himself."

"Nothing below that deck had been touched, John. The only sign of anyone being on that boat at all were the boot prints of the officers. And did you happen to notice the strange tatoo upon his wrist. The abreviation for some orginization, no doubt. MaClean is lying."

"You do not know what that tattoo meant. It could be nothing, and why, pray tell, would he spin such an elaborate lie?" I asked. Sherlock did not answer, and became quiet once more.

We arrived at our flat in silence, and when we entered Sherlock went immediatley off to his room. It was still early in the day, so I decided to run some errands while he brooded. Mrs.Hudson caught me in the stairwell and insisted on coming with me. I submitted reluctanly, but I admit we had quite a lovely outing together.

When I returned home, it was near evening time, and Sherlock was still in his room. I decided to relax in the parlour with a good book, and was sitting quietly on the sofa reading when he entered. I payed him no mind at first, but was surprised when he sat criss cross in the floor before me and said. "John."

"Yes?" I replied, nearly chuckling at his strange behavior.

"Why does the name MaClean sound familiar to me?" He asked gravely.

I looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "What do you mean?"

"That name. Have you not heard it before? I cannot quite seem to place it." He replied.

I sighed and closed my book. "Well there was Roderick MaClean, who attempted to assasinate the Queen not too far back."

"It was he who prompted the Trial of Lunatics Act in 1883." He said. I was not quite sure if he was asking me or not so I replied. "It was."

He was silent for a long moment, and I was just beginning to feel awkward when he said.

"John, if I was your relative, who you knew to be mentally ill, and the outcome of my trial was an act that stated even though I was mad, I should be kept in custody as a criminal lunatic, would you be upset?"

He spoke so fast that I found it slightly difficult to keep up with him, but I replied. "Yes, Sherlock, I suppose I would."

He rose energetically and clasped his hands together. "Very good, I will be out for the evening."

He did not even waste time in putting on an overcoat before rushing out of the apartment, leaving me quite bewildered.