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His description of the ‘Yank’ left no doubt that it was Calhoun. Holmes and I gave our attacker into police custody and continued on our way to the Friesland’s berth. Captain Neustaedter was waiting at the top of the gangway. With him were two Lascars holding tight the arms of a struggling man in his mid-twenties.

“They’ve flown, Mr. Holmes. Mr. Calhoun and his older American friend lit out of here just about a half-hour ago. They commandeered a tug that was at the dock here and already had steam up. But we laid hands on their younger confederate as he was climbing over the side.”

“Have the River Police been notified?” asked Holmes.

“Yes, and they are in pursuit.”

“Then we will have to possess our souls in patience and use the time to get some account of the affair out of Billy here.” Somehow it was no great surprise that Holmes knew the scoundrel’s name without being told.

Obtaining the information proved to be easier than I would have imagined. Holmes explained to Billy that he would undoubtedly swing for the murders of Openshaw and Brouwer unless he could provide convincing testimony that the other two men were chiefly to blame. With such inducement the frightened young man was quick to tell all he knew.

In most particulars his account tallied with what Holmes said he had learned already from the spirit of Openshaw. For example, Holmes had wondered at the time how Openshaw was lured to the edge of the Embankment, well away from his most direct route from Baker Street to the railway at Waterloo Station. Billy explained that he had been the decoy. As a mere youth then, he had found it simple to imitate a woman’s voice and had cried out for help as Openshaw came down Wellington Street toward Waterloo Bridge.

“But it was Jim and Darrell that did the poor man in, not me, Mr. Holmes,” Billy pleaded. “They coshed him and then Jim pressed his cap down on the fellow’s face till he stopped breathing. He was already dead afore he went into the water.”

Even more striking was his confirmation of what had happened on the high seas, an explanation that I felt came too close to fantasy when Holmes had first relayed the spirit-transmitted version. Yet, unprompted, Billy described exactly the same sequence of improbable events: the survival of the Lone Star in the storm-tossed ocean, the providential discovery of wreckage from the mail-ship and the interception of Holmes’ accusatory letter. Then the staged disappearance of the Lone Star at sea, followed by its real disappearance in a Caribbean port.

“Jim said the ship’s owners were little better than carpet-baggers anyway, so we were merely getting a little bit of our own back, as real Southerners.”

Billy’s eagerness to talk began to abate, however, as we approached the death of Jan Brouwer. He confirmed that Brouwer’s preferment had festered with Calhoun. “It wasn’t just that he got the job because his Daddy owned part of the shipping line. And it wasn’t only that he was obviously a Nigra-lover, what we could see right away by the way he treated the rest of the crew the same as us. But Jim said that Brouwer had a touch of the tar brush, and there was no way we should be taking orders from a man whose blood was impure.”

“So you followed the same method as with Openshaw: the cosh to the head, suffocation and then into the water. Is that correct?” Holmes asked. Billy nodded silently, and it seemed likely that his hand had wielded the cosh or at least helped tip Brouwer’s body overboard.

At that point a grim-faced Captain Neustaedter interrupted our interrogation. “Blackwall Station has sent over a message, Mr. Holmes. They have had a cable from Tilbury. The River Police lost sight of the tug in the fog just past there and the scoundrels have made their escape.”

We were a dispirited duo as we made our way back to Baker Street. “To have failed John Openshaw once was a blow to my pride, Watson, but for it to happen twice is almost too much to bear. I cannot believe that he will have enough magnanimity to forgive me twice. The next visit of his spirit to our rooms will be painful