How Holmes Resolved "The Neckar Reawakening"
Dear Investigators,
We congratulate you on another case well-solved! The help you provided to Holmes and the West Sussex Constabulary was indispensable in nabbing Tarnhow-Miller and his acolytes. With the so-called “poker club” behind bars, the people of Binsted should be able to rest at ease. !f you didn’t get a chance to check it out yet, Holmes sent over his own breakdown of the case too. Read on below!
Until our next case,
The Dear Holmes Team
——
10 March 1895
Dear Captain Drummond,
I hope that this letter finds you well. Given the flurry of telegrams I have received in the past day, I understand that this case has been satisfactorily resolved. As such, I thought I would summarise the factors which led me to conclude with certainty that the deaths of Kathleen Tomkinson and Jenny Matthews have no relation to spurious pond entities!
From the moment I read your first letter, I understood that a most unique case had been brought to my attention. Immediately, I was faced with a number of baffling questions beyond the obvious ‘Who’s responsible?’: Where had these young women come from, and how or why were they finding their ways to the Knucker Hole? Further, why were these women dressed so alike, and what was the significance of their silver pendants? Your astute observations, alongside PC Daubney’s dogged police work, allowed me to begin answering these questions.
The position of the first girl’s body, and the absence of any telling signs of a struggle, suggested that this was unlikely to be a case of drowning or suicide. Coupled with the cleanliness of the girl’s legs and feet, it was clear that she had not walked, but had been carried to the pond in some way. I could not yet determine whether she had been coerced. I was, however, quite confident that we were looking at a series of carefully planned murders. This was the only reasonable explanation for two deceased being discovered in such identical conditions.
In both your own letter and the subsequent missive from PC Daubney, mention was made of deep track marks at the gate leading to the Knucker Hole. What if the vehicle responsible had been used to transport the girl to her watery grave? It was a realistic premise, but difficult to ascertain without identifying the vehicle or its owner. And beyond those of Jim Gartner, no footprints had been discovered at the scene. The sheep in the pasture had clearly eradicated any clues in that respect. ‘But had the sheep been moved for that very reason?’, I wondered. And thus, my investigation began with three suspects: Gerald Bilney, Jim Gartner, and the charismatic Tristan Tarnhow-Miller.
If the sheep had been moved to cover tracks, then it would make Gerald Bilney an obvious suspect, but we could not rule out Jim Gartner either, for his boot prints – and his labrador’s tracks – were in evidence. Perhaps he had driven the sheep down from the hills on his neighbour Bilney’s land? Even so, this would have scarcely explained Tarnhow-Miller’s claims about strange animal noises. Bilney or Gartner could have been shepherding loud animals overnight, but anybody attempting to conceal a crime would have employed something less inclined to squeal.
On the other hand, nobody else seemed to have heard the wild noises that evening. Was Tarnhow-Miller using a fanciful story to justify his own proximity to the pond? PC Daubney’s letter then arrived on Wednesday, 6th March, expanding my list of suspects and neatly separating the observable facts from the supernatural twaddle being peddled about the village. The young man has the potential to become a rather good detective.
First and foremost, PC Daubney’s observations of Jenny Matthews’ funeral allowed me to identify several anomalies. It was more than a little surprising that the girl should receive such a lavish, well-attended, funeral; particularly as her death was believed to be a suicide. Most clergymen would insist on a pauper’s burial outside of the churchyard, so why had she been treated so differently? The funeral’s attendees were another oddity as well: Tom Chilvers had seemed to be irritated by the girl’s death, but had still chosen to attend her funeral. Arthur Brimham, who had been seen out on the night of the second murder, was also present, and Daubney’s initial interviews with the man indicated that he knew a ‘local workhouse’ to be home to ‘plenty of waifs and strays’. In light of these facts, I could not help but consider both Chilvers and Brimham as additional suspects.
At this point, my list of suspects had grown to include Bilney, Gartner, Tarnhow-Miller, Chilvers, Brimham, and even the surgeon, Dr Achew, yet with Watson’s arrival in Binsted, I was rapidly able to refine my investigation. Jim Gartner looked to be less of a suspect after his interview with Watson and PC Daubney. In effect, his testimony implicated Bilney, which lent further weight to the notion that the sheep were moved to cover up footprints. He claimed that the animals were being moved in readiness for shearing. This was a bold lie. Growing up in the Yorkshire Dales, I know that hill sheep live and lamb in the uplands for much of the year. It is only as summer approaches that they are driven down to lowland pastures for shearing.
Dr Achew’s displeasure in learning that Watson was to attend the post mortem might have suggested his involvement in Kathleen Tomkinson’s death. And yet, after his outburst, he left the good doctor to complete the autopsy. This examination confirmed that the girl had been incapacitated before reaching the pond, and the fact that laudanum had been used – another crucial clue.
Watson’s broader enquiries then revealed that Felicity King had supplied the shifts worn by the two girls. Did this mean that she was somehow implicated? I could not yet disprove this, but my attention was more so drawn to Bilney and his friends, if not the upright newcomer, Tarnhow-Miller. According to Watson’s illuminating interviews, Brimham, Chilvers, and Bilney had been together on the
night before the body was found. Their responses to the good doctor’s queries were unconvincing, and Arthur Brimham also denied knowing Jenny Matthews. I thought that if we could prove Brimham made regular deliveries to the workhouse, then this assertion could be easily challenged.
In a similar vein, the ‘local historian’ Tristan Tarnhow-Miller proved suspicious, though his connection was unclear. He had been instrumental in operating Binsted’s new church group, and he dismissed the supernatural folklore being spread about the village, yet his first interview suggested that he might be the source of that gossip. Watson even arrived to hear him playing a part of Wagner’s ring cycle – a story featuring mermaids known as the Nixe. While the man had immersed himself in all aspects of village life, his taste for the arts clearly contradicted the intentions of his beloved church group. Of course, this alone was no reason to accuse him of foul play, but Dr Watson’s final letter fortunately reached me on Friday morning.
Based on that, and the earlier communiques I had received, I was able to provide PC Daubney with a compelling case for the arrest of not only Tristan Tarnhow-Miller, but also Gerald Bilney, Tom Chilvers, and Arthur Brimham. I will explain how I reached this conclusion. According to Watson’s last letter, only Dr Achew and Brimham owned carts with wheels matching the dimensions recorded by PC Daubney. The good doctor’s interview with Felicity King revealed that she had an alibi for the likely time of the murder. And in admitting to her dalliance with Dr Achew, she had provided the haughty surgeon with one too. Further, the information revealed at the chemist’s suggested that the laudanum used to commit the crimes had been purchased by one ‘Mr Death’.
In contrast, the strapping Arthur Brimham was clearly able to make his own deliveries, and the wheel marks placed his cart near the crime scene. Thus, my hypothesis was as follows: it was the blacksmith who had been visiting the workhouse and helping the girls to abscond. The invoice for ‘thirty new shovels,’ which Watson had earlier spotted at the workhouse, was proof of his visits. And based on Bilney and Chilvers’ prior interviews, it was reasonable to surmise that they were implicated as well.
With the visit to the craft worker, PC Daubney finally discovered the source of the mermaid pendants. And the description given of the man purchasing them once again pointed to Tarnhow-Miller. Tarnhow-Miller, I realised, was also the owner of the ceremonial robes which were later discovered at the pond. The more elaborate of these robes had a tiny label reading ‘Emmanuel College’, which is the same Cambridge college once attended by poet Sebastian Evans.
Meanwhile, Daubney’s interview with King had strongly suggested that Tarnhow-Miller was far closer to the so-called ‘boy’s club’ than he had disclosed. By then, there was no doubt in my mind that Tarnhow-Miller had orchestrated the two killings with the willing participation of Bilney, Chilvers, and Brimham.
Having been arrested, their interrogation has now revealed more details about the nature of the affair, which seems to have stemmed from Tarnhow-Miller’s obsession with the legend of the Neckar – shapeshifting water spirits commonly described in Germanic and Scandinavian folklore. One form, like Wagner’s mermaids, is said to lure people into rivers and ponds, while other forms are said to bring prosperity to those who appease them. Tarnhow-Miller believes that, in those cases, human sacrifices are the preferred offering. He cites a poem written by Andrew Lang called ‘The Nixie of the Mill-Pond’, in which an evil water spirit restores a miller’s wealth in exchange for his son’s life.
Aiming to appease the water spirits, Tarnhow-Miller began circulating tales of their alleged power through Binsted before establishing a new church group to mask his sinister plans. As he did so, he began to ingratiate himself with the locals. He quickly befriended Brimham and the two farmers, eventually presenting the trio with ceremonial robes from his university days. Under the light of each full moon, they began to meet at the sacred Knucker Hole in an attempt to ‘instigate a reawakening of the water spirits’, and after several ‘failures’, Tarnhow-Miller started to insist that a sacrifice would be required.
Brimham’s existing business with the workhouse provided them with ready access to people who might be made to disappear without attracting too much attention. Bilney and Chilvers provided the added comfort and safety of their two expansive properties. And Tarnhow-Miller was able to supply laudanum to Chilvers, who then set off this plot by poisoning his new maid, Jenny Matthews. From there, they used Brimham’s cart to transport her body to the pond, where it was adorned with a mermaid pendant and left floating in the water. Brimham, Chilvers, and Bilney admit that though they were beguiled by the strange man’s wealth and generosity, they were initially unaware of Tarnhow-Miller’s intent to kill Jenny Matthews. This makes little difference of course, since Kathleen Tomkinson was then despatched by them in the same way, at Bilney’s farm. The sheep farmer later frantically moved his flock down to disguise their tracks. All the while, the superstitious locals were beginning to lock their doors at night, and avoiding Goose Green after dark, largely because of Tarnhow-Miller’s stories of the Nicor.
That encapsulates all the relevant details, and I am grateful to you for bringing this matter to my attention before ‘The Neckar’ was able to strike once more. That two young women could not be saved is most regrettable, but nonetheless, a most disquieting group of scoundrels has been properly disbanded. Sure enough, this will help dispel the air of mystery about the Knucker Hole; and perhaps Mr Sutton can find a new purpose for his church group as well?
All in due course.
Yours sincerely,
