I was having breakfast alone in the dining-room at Baker Street, my
companion having risen before me, when the message arrived by
telegram. I heard the ring at the door and a brief conversation,
then Holmes came into the room and regarded me with a curious
expression on his face.
"Curious, Watson, most curious," said he.
"A case, Holmes?"
"Perhaps. The vicar Lawrence McKye of Essex Parish on Grimpen Moor
requests our urgent attention. He would ask leave to meet us at the
two-thirty train, and he has paid our passage."
"Indeed," said I. I scoured my memory of the people on Grimpen Moor
whom I knew from the Baskerville matter, and I could not recall
mention of a Vicar McKye. I did, however, recognize the name of
Essex Parish. "I thought that the vicar at Essex was a man by the
name of Janson."
"So serves my memory as well," Holmes agreed. "But the telegram is
signed by McKye."
We got our things and went at once to the London train, and were met
at the other end by the good vicar, who said little until we were
under way in a carriage headed across the familiar Grimpen Moor.
"I have requested your presence, Mr. Holmes, for a most urgent
matter. Our caretaker, Mr. Garry, has vanished," said he. "It is
unlike him to be away for more than a day or two without leaving
word; it has been nearly a week. Mrs. Gerlins has been kind enough
to assist me with his duties, but his disappearance strikes me as odd
and though I cannot imagine anyone in my parish capable of it, I fear
I suspect foul play."
"Why have you come to such a conclusion?"
"There are several members who have had disagreements with Mr.
Garry. We have parishioners from not only the moor, Mr. Holmes, but
from even as far as London. Mr. Garry is rather set in his ways and
we do have to admit he has a tendency to sneak up on people; Anne
Alsen, the wife of the chairman of our church, calls him Creepy
Garry. She means it affectionately to be sure, and she couldn't do
Mr. Garry any harm, not in her condition." He smiled. "As she met
Mr. Gregory Alsen in our parish and their romance blossomed from
there, it is somewhat of a joy for the parish to see them so happy
and she and Mr. Garry are good friends. The term "Creepy Garry" is
bestowed in such a way as a man might call his dearest friend an old
bastard."
"And Mr. Alsen approves the friendship?" asked Holmes.
"Certainly, sir, certainly, for Gregory could not harm a fly. They
were going to ask Garry and Irene, his wife, to be the godparents of
their child."
"Anyone else you wish to bring to our attention before we arrive?
Who was closest to Mr. Garry?"
"Well, certainly Gregory and Anne. Robert and David Tidman, two
brothers, were close as well. Miss Smith, who runs our Altar guild,
myself and my wife Carol, my son Jim, and my partner Vicar Janson and
his wife Laney. Mrs. Martha, our pianist, though they've had their
disagreements as well. There is the parish ghost, whom some of the
parishioners are blaming for Mr. Garry's disappearance, but I knew
the rumored ghost in life, one of our former vicars, sir, and I
believe it is rubbish."
Holmes listened with little change in his thoughtful expression as
the carriage approached the church. It was quite large for a rural
country church, though not as large as the biggest of those in London
certainly larger than the smallest. But, vicar McKye had said that
they had people come from as far as London to attend the service.
A tall man, casually dressed, was waiting by the door of the church,
enjoying the rare clear morning.
"Halloa, Gregory," greeted McKye. "How fares Anne?"
"Quite well, Vicar," returned the other. "Dr. Mortimer says both
mother and child are well." The man was flushed with excitement.
"Any word from Garry?"
"None yet," said the other, looking concerned. "It is the most
peculiar thing I've ever seen. Poor Irene!"
"Indeed," agreed McKye. "Gregory, Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson."
The man who McKye introduced as Gregory Alsen greeted us with a smile.
"An honor I'm sure. Mr. Holmes, Mr. Garry lives in the parsonage.
Irene and their daughter Chelsea are not home at present," said
he. "Come, I'll show you the way."
We followed Gregory into the cottage adjacent to the church,
connected through a hallway. It was somewhat of a surprise that he
had a key to the caretaker's residence. I inquired of Vicar McKye.
"Is it usual for others to have the key to this residence?"
"Only Vicar Janson, myself and Gregory have keys besides the Garrys,
Sir," returned the other. "For emergencies only, and we believe this
qualifies as a reason to use it. And, we have permission to enter
from Irene."
The house itself was spotless, I noted, and had a nice, clean smell
to it. A long-haired cat greeted us, rubbing itself against
Gregory's leg as we entered. He looked down and smiled.
"Well, halloa there, Madison," said he, bending down to stroke the
tabby-cat, which instantly began to purr. Holmes watched with
something akin to amusement in his expression as Gregory swooped the
feline into his arms, instantly receiving a light coating of fur on
his black sweater. *If that cat likes him,* thought I, *certainly he
cannot be our man, for animals are the greatest judges of
character.* By the expression Holmes gave me I could tell that he
was thinking the same. After releasing the cat, much to the
displeasure of the latter, Gregory turned to us somewhat bemusedly.
"My wife in particular is quite fond of the animal, Sir. We're very
familiar with the Garrys, as I'm certain Vicar Lawrence has told you.
"Indeed," confirmed Holmes. "Strange that if she knew you'd be
bringing visitors, Mrs. Garry should not be present," he observed.
"Not strange at all, sir, for Irene and her daughter go every week at
this time to the market-place in London to get supplies. They shall
return after midday, should you wish to speak with them."
"So I shall," said Holmes. He looked about the sitting-room, then
ventured down the hall. We followed, Gregory and McKye lingering
behind. Holmes entered first the master bedroom, then the
daughter's, and evidently found nothing unusual.
"Is there a basement, Vicar McKye?"
"There is, Sir. The stairs are in here." He opened a door that had
appeared to be a closet. Holmes had looked into some of the others,
but not this one as McKye and Gregory had been standing in front of
it. Holmes and I led the way down the stairs. Holmes removed a
pocket-torch from his coat and shone it ahead of him.
The basement had a slight musty smell, common in the countryside, but
beyond that there was nothing immediately noticeable. Shelves of
canning and preserves, jams and jellies lined one wall. Books and
other rarely used items lined another. Holmes frowned.
"Curious, most curious. No sign here that anything is afoot," said
he.
"That's what is most peculiar, Mr. Holmes," agreed Gregory. "There
is no sign of any attempt to do harm to Mr. Garry, and Irene said
that there had been no sign of a struggle and nothing of his was
missing. She thought he'd gone out for a walk. She'd been visiting
Mrs. Gerlins that afternoon for tea.
"Mr. Alsen, would it be an imposition for us to speak to your wife?"
asked Holmes. Gregory looked surprised.
"Not at all, Sir. I'd be happy to have you accompany me home. Have
you seen all you wish?"
"For the moment, Sir," Holmes said. "Would you be so kind to show us
the church as well?"
The tour of the small church proved equally fruitless and it was not
long before the three of us—Holmes, myself and Gregory—were setting
out across the moor to the home of the Alsens. Gregory talked
incessantly, brushing fur from the Garrys' cat from his sweater, as
we walked, and it was a pleasant trip of an hour or so to their
home. He opened the door and invited us in.
"Darling, we have visitors," he called. From the kitchen emerged a
quietly pretty woman who, as McKye had said, was quite large with
child. She greeted her husband with a kiss and took our coats.
"Would you like some tea, gentlemen?" she asked. Holmes accepted and
she went to the kitchen to fill the kettle and set it on the
fire. "How is Vicar McKye, Greg?" she asked.
"He's well, Anne, he says he and Vicar Janson will be out to see you
to-morrow," he reported. She smiled.
"I shall look forward to it, though they often bring trouble with
them," said she with a smile. "Any word from Garry?"
"None, my darling, and I fear for him," said he, sliding an arm
around his wife lovingly. She nodded.
"I do hope he's all right."
Go to Part Two
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