Free The Oriental Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Ted Riccardi

attention and yet afford me the freedom that I needed to move about at will. I decided that I should have to become an Indian, for they cross the border in the Tarai freely, and that I would have to be of high caste, for there would be no other that would secure my freedom of movement. The dark-skinned frail Bengali I immediately eliminated, as well as the peoples of northern Bihar and Oudh. A Rajpoot prince? Perhaps, but I decided against it on the grounds that the Gorkhali rulers were said to be in constant touch with the maharajas of Rajpootana and that I should be hard-pressed for elaborate fictions. South India I know nothing of, and besides, the Tamilians are darker-complexioned than the people of the north.
    “This reasoning left me with the Punjab and Kashmir from which to choose. Sikhs were too visible and their small community would immediately find me out. This left Kashmir, and I decided the best disguise might be that of a Kashmiri merchant. The difficulty was, of course, that these merchants are nearly all Mahometans, and the activities of Mahometans are restricted by the Hindoo orthodoxy of the Nepalese maharajas. In the end, I decided on the disguise of a Kashmir Brahman or pandit, who had come to Nepal to study the languages and dialects of the Himalayas. I had met on my way to India a young Irishman from Belfast by the name of Grierson, who was conducting a linguistic survey. He had remarked to me that his assistants were mainly Kashmiri Brahmans, who were well-educated, light-complexioned, and well versed in English. I was also aware of the work done in Kashmir by the Hungarian scholar Aurel Stein, whose archaeological interest had led him into remote areas of the Hindoo Kush. And so I became, shortly after arriving in Katmandu, Pandit Kaul, Assistant, Royal Linguistic Survey of India. I would carry letters from both Grierson and Stein, forged of course, but convincing enough. So quick was my reasoning in all this that my decision took but a few seconds, the steps in my explanation to you being decided almost instantly by the mind.”
    During his first few days he busied himself with the new disguise and the departure of the Tibetan monk as whom he had arrived from Lhasa. One day, the monk bade good-bye to his few recent acquaintances and departed for India. Just after the police check post at Bhimphedi, however, he abandoned his robes and, donning Kashmiri costume, re-entered the Katmandu Valley as Pandit Kaul of Kashmir.
    “I shall not bore you with details, Watson, but I may say that it is remarkable what a beard, properly shaped by a local barber, Tibetan spectacles, and Kashmiri dress can do for one’s appearance. I returned on foot to Gorashar’s hotel, and though he knew of my plan, I was pleased that he did not recognise me when I entered. My disguise as an aging Kashmiri pandit appeared to work very well.”
    Holmes now roamed the bazaar rather freely, learning the maze of its narrow streets and alleys. It became apparent to him at once that the notion of a forbidden kingdom was the deliberate and well-calculated fabrication of a weak government that did not have the means to defend itself from outside interference. There were many from abroad living there, and it appeared that anyone who had the physical stamina and the will could enter Nepal. The length and success of his stay depended on the skill of his disguise, and the extent to which he was willing to profit by the corruption of local officialdom. Through the years, the Nepalese government had kept an official record of foreigners afforded permission to enter the country. They numbered but a handful.
    “So much for the humbug of governments, Watson. I can attest to the fact that the country was riddled with secret agents working both for and against our interests, and that I recognised several criminals of international repute living in the bazaar. In just two days, I had identified three Tsarist agents, among them the notorious