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Authors: Ted Riccardi
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than by my first sight of Lhasa. There it lay, its golden pagodas, shining rivers, and verdant fields. I watched silently as our long party passed. Gorashar noticed my rapt attention.”
“This is my home,” he said quietly in his inimitable way.
“For the first time in my adult life, Watson, I had let down my guard. My will relaxed and for a few moments I was at peace in a gentle world, one apparently without crime and its evils. Perhaps I might remain here, I thought, and devote myself to meditation and the contemplation of first principles. Or perhaps it was here that I should lead the life of a householder, far from my enemies, and unknown to them.
“For a few moments, these were tempting thoughts, but I quickly rejected them, knowing that once I had joined the struggle there was no turning back. I knew well that intelligent evil had begun to tire of London and the other metropolitan centres of Europe. Of course there is no end to the mayhem and the brutality of the London back alleys, but it is almost always the result of small frictions, with no overall pattern. If one were to find the intelligent criminal, one would have to seek him out in the most unlikely of places. The more innocent the soil, the more likely it is to be sought out by the criminal for his evil purposes. One had only to look at the innocent face of a Nepalese child, Watson, to understand what fertile soil the Himalayas might prove to be.”
It was with these sobering thoughts that Holmes walked the last few miles from the Banepa ridge into the city of Katmandu. He felt curiously vulnerable, for in the act of relaxing his will, he felt as if he had weakened in body as well. It was as if the armour that he had forged throughout his life had been pierced for the first time.
“I came out of my reverie sufficiently to notice that the caravan was well ahead of me. Gorashar himself had also tarried and was only a few yards ahead. He had been waiting for me. By the time I reached him I had sufficiently recovered my composure, but not well enough to hide my thoughts from his sensitive eyes. He said nothing, but I felt reassured by his presence.”
They walked together behind the caravan, passing to the south of the ancient city of Bhaktapur and through the town of Thimi. It was late afternoon when we reached the outskirts of Katmandu.
Gorashar owned a small inn in the centre of town, where he also lived with his family. His guests were Indian merchants for the most part. He invited Holmes to stay, for he could take his meals in his room and be less conspicuous than if he ventured forth on a regular basis. For the first few days, Holmes confined his activities to his room and the small but beautiful courtyard of the hotel. He had decided that he needed a more manageable disguise before he ventured forth. A Tibetan monk in this part of the city called for notice, and he felt that while the guise was a convenient one while travelling, it was too difficult to maintain once one was in residence.
“You know well, Watson, my abilities with regard to disguises and have remarked yourself more than once in your chronicles that the world had lost a great actor when it was decided that I should devote my life to the study of crime. Yet, I must say, with regard to these abilities, that Nepal taxed my talents to the fullest. Although I am capable of shedding at least a foot from my height, I could never pass for a Gurkha. The build of these hillmen and their physiognomy is completely different from ours. Being a Tibetan monk or European trader was quite satisfactory for travel but far too confining for a stay in Katmandu. Also, sooner or later, I should be found out. The disguise of Sigerson, the Scandinavian scientist, which I had abandoned in Lhasa, I could not revive, for the Nepalese government does not allow Europeans into the country without elaborate justification or bribes. I needed a new disguise, therefore, one that would at once arouse little
“This is my home,” he said quietly in his inimitable way.
“For the first time in my adult life, Watson, I had let down my guard. My will relaxed and for a few moments I was at peace in a gentle world, one apparently without crime and its evils. Perhaps I might remain here, I thought, and devote myself to meditation and the contemplation of first principles. Or perhaps it was here that I should lead the life of a householder, far from my enemies, and unknown to them.
“For a few moments, these were tempting thoughts, but I quickly rejected them, knowing that once I had joined the struggle there was no turning back. I knew well that intelligent evil had begun to tire of London and the other metropolitan centres of Europe. Of course there is no end to the mayhem and the brutality of the London back alleys, but it is almost always the result of small frictions, with no overall pattern. If one were to find the intelligent criminal, one would have to seek him out in the most unlikely of places. The more innocent the soil, the more likely it is to be sought out by the criminal for his evil purposes. One had only to look at the innocent face of a Nepalese child, Watson, to understand what fertile soil the Himalayas might prove to be.”
It was with these sobering thoughts that Holmes walked the last few miles from the Banepa ridge into the city of Katmandu. He felt curiously vulnerable, for in the act of relaxing his will, he felt as if he had weakened in body as well. It was as if the armour that he had forged throughout his life had been pierced for the first time.
“I came out of my reverie sufficiently to notice that the caravan was well ahead of me. Gorashar himself had also tarried and was only a few yards ahead. He had been waiting for me. By the time I reached him I had sufficiently recovered my composure, but not well enough to hide my thoughts from his sensitive eyes. He said nothing, but I felt reassured by his presence.”
They walked together behind the caravan, passing to the south of the ancient city of Bhaktapur and through the town of Thimi. It was late afternoon when we reached the outskirts of Katmandu.
Gorashar owned a small inn in the centre of town, where he also lived with his family. His guests were Indian merchants for the most part. He invited Holmes to stay, for he could take his meals in his room and be less conspicuous than if he ventured forth on a regular basis. For the first few days, Holmes confined his activities to his room and the small but beautiful courtyard of the hotel. He had decided that he needed a more manageable disguise before he ventured forth. A Tibetan monk in this part of the city called for notice, and he felt that while the guise was a convenient one while travelling, it was too difficult to maintain once one was in residence.
“You know well, Watson, my abilities with regard to disguises and have remarked yourself more than once in your chronicles that the world had lost a great actor when it was decided that I should devote my life to the study of crime. Yet, I must say, with regard to these abilities, that Nepal taxed my talents to the fullest. Although I am capable of shedding at least a foot from my height, I could never pass for a Gurkha. The build of these hillmen and their physiognomy is completely different from ours. Being a Tibetan monk or European trader was quite satisfactory for travel but far too confining for a stay in Katmandu. Also, sooner or later, I should be found out. The disguise of Sigerson, the Scandinavian scientist, which I had abandoned in Lhasa, I could not revive, for the Nepalese government does not allow Europeans into the country without elaborate justification or bribes. I needed a new disguise, therefore, one that would at once arouse little
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