Something Completely Different

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There can't be anyone over the age of let's say ten years in the world who does not know the name Sherlock Holmes. The world's first consulting detective, created in the nineteenth century by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, has become the archetypal figure of the analytical investigator, who has influenced not only future fictional detectives but also those in the real world. At a time when the likes of fingerprint evidence, crime scene investigation and body language were all but unknown to the police, Doyle's canny detective used these methods to form his own way of gathering clues and solving mysteries, usually crimes. There's no question that many of the techniques employed by Sherlock Holmes are now used by police forces and private investigators all over the world. He has, almost literally, changed the face of detective work.

Over the course of nearly 150 years, Doyle's stories have been reprinted, republished and collected in various volumes, with some writers even trying to compose their own stories featuring the famous detective. Holmes and his faithful sidekick Dr. Watson have made the transition from the printed page to the stage, then on to the silver screen and finally to the small screen. Doyle's stories are timeless, though of course dated by the period in which they were written and set; some writers have tried to update Holmes for the twentieth or even twenty-first century, with varying degrees of success, and his character has entered the normal parlance of human culture, which such phrases as "Elementary" and "No shit, Sherlock" commonplace, as well as one of the highest accolades for any inquiring person being to compare them to Holmes. Proof of his enduring popularity can be seen in the fact that not one, but two TV series run in the twenty-first century almost concurrently, and new movies about him are coming out all the time. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle may have at one time wished to - tried to - kill off his greatest creation, but in that strange quirk that often afflicts writers, he found that his character was stronger and more powerful than he, and that public opinion would not allow him to die. And so, in the greatest traditions of the greatest fictional characters, and like many of those of his contemporary Dickens, Doyle's literary nemesis, Sherlock Holmes, has become immortal.

For a long time, I had never read a single Holmes story. Oh, I knew the basic idea behind "The Hound of the Baskervilles", and I'd seen (but not watched) movies based on other of his adventures such as "The Sign of the Four" and "A Study in Scarlet", but I had never picked up any of Doyle's books until about fifteen years ago. Having run out of things to read for Karen, I happened to see a large hardback copy of The Collected Sherlock Holmes and suggested that. We began to read it and both found it fascinating, going through the whole thing in a relatively short time. At this stage I would say we have read all the Holmes stories and novels about three times, and at the time of writing this are embarking on a fourth read, which is why this seems like the time to begin this journal.

I've been thinking about doing this for some while now, but there's not a lot of point in my just writing about the stories and leaving it at that. Hell, you know me better by now: I don't do things by halves. So here's what I intend to do. I'll be looking at each of the stories - including he novels - giving a short synopsis (no I promise! It will be short) and laying out the specifics of each case, who the main players are, how the crime/mystery unfolded and how it was solved. I'll then be writing my comments, observations and insights on each.

For those who have never read any of the stories, but have often wished to, while I would not be so arrogant as to present this as a definitive guide to Sherlock Holmes (I'm sure there are far greater ones, by writers whose inkwell I am not fit to refill, or something) it should, when complete, give anyone who has not read the stories enough information about them to be able to confidently discuss them, and hopefully pique their interest enough to perhaps seek the actual stories out. For those who have read them, I welcome your comments and am happy to have a discussion with anyone on any subject pertaining to Holmes. I'm also, as ever, ready to learn new things about him.

So come on: there's a hansom drawing up out in the street, and the weather is foul, so wrap up warm. Slip your service revolver into your pocket, as I fear there may be dirty work before the night is done. But London needs us, and Sherlock Holmes was never a man to shirk his responsibility when it came to bringing the guilty to justice and saving the innocent from the rope.

Quickly now. The game's afoot!

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Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: A quick profile

Before we get going, a few facts about the man who created the world's most famous detective. I'm not going into all the details of his life - there are plenty of biographies around you can pick up, and they're well worth reading. But there are a few small points I didn't realise about Doyle which I just want to note here.

First, I was always under the impression that he was knighted for his literary work. Not so. It appears the "Sir" in his name is for military service. I suppose when even so legendary a writer as Charles Dickens was not knighted for his literature - and if anyone deserved the honour surely it was he - perhaps it's naive to think that Doyle would be afforded the distinction.

Second, again I always assumed that Doyle came from a police background, or some sort of scientific analytical one, and again, wrong. He pursued a career in medicine (hence, presumably, the character of Watson, who might be assumed to be a self-portrait) and did travel widely, being engaged as a ship's surgeon. But his model for Holmes seems to have been one of his university teachers, a Joseph Bell, whose keen mind and logical methods Doyle imbued his most famous character with.

Third, I did not know that he played amateur sleuth himself in two cold cases, in 1907 and 1908, proving the innocence of and overturning the convictions of both parties, and indirectly helping to have the Court of Criminal Appeal set up.

What I did know, and you probably do also, but it's worth mentioning, is that in 1891, five years after Sherlock Holmes had become a literary celebrity and assured him of a lucrative career, Doyle considered knocking him off, wishing to concentrate on his historical novels. His mother, incensed at the idea, begged him not to. But he did anyway, writing what was to be the detective's last case in 1893, appropriately titled "The Final Problem." He literally killed the sleuth, and intended him to stay dead. But his public - or perhaps it might be more accurate, if crazy, to say, Holmes's public - would not stand for it, and a campaign to have the world's favourite detective resurrected was acquiesced to when he wrote, in 1901, what was to become his most famous and enduring Holmes story, "The Hound of the Baskervilles." This novel though, did not explain how Holmes had escaped death in "The Final Problem", and so it was necessary to write "The Return of Sherlock Holmes", which came out in 1905 and in fact ended up being literally the detective's triumphant return as it led to another twelve stories featuring him and Watson.

I did find out, through reading his biography, that Doyle was into spiritualism, or what was at the time called mesmerism, which is odd really when you consider how coldly logical and grounded Sherlock Holmes is, never trusting to any sort of supernatural intervention in his cases, even when it seems some devilish agency must be at work in "The Hound of the Baskervilles." I suppose that might have been Doyle's "I am not Spock!" declaration, an attempt to separate the writer from the character, to show he was different to Holmes. The famous resident of 221B Baker Street may have placed no faith in the spirit world, but his creator did.

Let's, before we get going though, explode a few popular myths.

The phrase so often used as Holmes' catchphrase, "Elementary, my dear Watson" is never used in any of Doyle's writings. Rather like "Play it again Sam" and "Beam me up Scotty" it has attained a life of its own, and was somewhat surprising to me to discover that it does not appear, but it does not. The word elementary is used, though not that often, but never in that sentence with the same words.

In the books and stories, Holmes is never mentioned as wearing the headgear which has become synonymous with him, the deerstalker, and his cape. This was an affectation practised by the first man to play him on stage, William Gilette, as was the pipe which is now associated with him. Though Doyle has Holmes smoke a pipe, he never refers to it as the type known as calabash, but through Gilette's portrayal of him, this is now the image we have of the detective's pipe.

Although Professor Moriarty is known to be Holmes' diabolical nemesis, he only appears in one story, the one supposed to have been the last, and so titled "The Final Question." His appearance in, and control of London's underground is back-referenced by Holmes in order to really you'd have to say shoe-horn him in as a valiant adversary for Holmes, one Doyle obviously believed worthy of defeating the great detective.

Cool :) I've read a bit of Sherlock, but it's years and years ago. I'm looking forward to having my memory jogged and I enjoyed reading your Arthur Conan Doyle trivia.

Very good, old chap.

A couple years ago I listened to the complete Sherlock read by Stephen Fry, which was fantastic. For anyone interesting in following along via audiobook I can't recommend that set highly enough.

Title: "A Study in Scarlet"
Year first published: 1887
Type: Novel
Chronology: First Sherlock Holmes story; one of four full-length novels and 56 short stories
Location(s): (Very briefly) Maiwand, Afghanistan; Peshiwar; University of London; Portsmouth; The Strand Hotel; The Criterion Bar; The Holborn; Baker Street; Audley Court; Duncan Street, Houndsditch; Charpentiers Boarding House, Torquay Terrace; The Sierra Blanco (USA); Salt Lake City, Utah; St. Petersburg; Paris; Copenhagen; Camberwell; Waterloo Bridge; York University
Date: March 4 1881 (?)
The crime or the mystery: Murder
Particulars of the crime or mystery: Method of murder unknown until the arrival of Sherlock Holmes, then found to be poison administered. No forced entry, no evidence of robbery, no marks on body, no blood. (Drebber) Found stabbed to death in his hotel room (Stangerson)
Scene(s) of the crime or mystery: 3 Lauriston Gardens, off the Brixton Road, a deserted empty house (Drebber); Halliday's Private Hotel (Stangerson)
Date(s) of the crime(s) or mystery: March 4, March 5
The time (if given): 2 AM (discovery); 6 AM


The Players
The Client: None
The victim(s): Enoch J. Drebber, an American and later Joseph Stangerson, also American
The accused or suspected: Athur Charpentier
The arrested: Arthur Charpentier
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Tobias Gregson, Inspector Lestrade (Peripherally) PC John Rance, who unfortunately had the culprit that night but had let him go, believing him to be a mere drunkard.
The advocate(s):None
The real culprit(s): Jefferson Hope, Lucy Ferrier's sweetheart
Others: Mrs. Sawyer, an old woman (really a man in disguise) who answers Holmes' advertisement about the lost ring and collects it from Watson; Wiggins, leader of the "Baker Street Irregulars"; Madame Charpentier, owner of the boarding house where Drebber stayed; Alice Charpentier, her daughter, Arthur's sister; John Ferrier, an American survivor of a pioneer wagon; Lucy Ferrier, the only other survivor, his adopted daughter, forced into marriage with Drebber after John's death; Brigham Young, leader of the Mormons

The clues: Hansom cab wheel tracks outside the house, a woman's wedding ring, a box of pills, a telegram saying "J.H. is in Europe" (unsigned)
The red herring(s)*: The word RACHE scrawled in blood on the wall. Lestrade thinks it's part of a name - Rachel - at which Holmes grins and tells him it is the German word for revenge. But it's all a blind anyway and has nothing to do with the murder.

The argument between Drebber and Arthur Charpentier, and the pursuit of the former by the latter, cudgel in hand.


The breakthrough: Holmes lays his hand on the murderer when he realises he is a cabman and sends for him
The result: The murderer confesses but dies of a heart condition before he can be brought to trial. See the synopsis below for the full story behind his crimes.

* Unlike in other journals, the term "red herrings" does not refer to the text/story, as in, elements that seem to have no bearing on the plot. Rather, they are things upon which the police fasten as being important, as being clues, when they either have nothing to do with the crime/mystery or are missteps which set them on the wrong path and line of thinking. This may lead to false arrests, accusations or just leads that go nowhere.

How the case is solved

Having determined that two men were in the empty house, that one is now absent and that Drebber was poisoned, and that both arrived in a cab, and further, having telegraphed to Cleveland and found that Drebber had taken out a protective order against Jefferson Hope, Holmes has all the pieces, and has only to fit them together. When he comes into possession of the tablets left in Stangerson's room, he has the final link in his chain. He realises Hope must have driven Drebber to the murder scene, and therefore must be working as a cab driver.

Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:
That Watson has recently been in Afghanistan; That the caller who brings the news from Gregson about the crime is a retired marine sergeant.

Before the case

A short note as to what Holmes and Watson were doing before the case was brought to them, or before Holmes brought the case to Watson. What were they talking about? Where were they (almost always Baker Street of course)? What were they doing? Did what they were doing or talking about have any bearing on the case?

This being the first meeting of the two, there is no "before the case" as such, but before the telegram from Lestrade arrives Watson has been reading Holmes' article on the science of deduction through observation (unaware that he is the author) and arguing with him over it. This leads of course to the first examples of Holmes' incisive deductions, which take his friend by surprise and have him grudgingly admit that he may have been wrong in his assessment of the man.

Synopsis:

Having spent time in Afghanistan as an army doctor during the Second Anglo-Afghan War, John Watson returns to England, carrying an injured left arm. With most of his comrades dead or still in Afghanistan, he has nobody to come back to and having been away for some years has no house, so he goes looking for lodgings. A friend of his puts him in touch with a Sherlock Holmes, who is in the same situation as him and is looking for someone to share apartments he has found but cannot afford on his own. And so a legendary partnership is born. Intrigued by Holmes' (he will never, despite what will become as deep a friendship as any between two people, call him by his first name, nor will anyone except one person) assertion that he can divine details of people from pure observation of their dress, their walk, their face, he puts this claim to the test and is astounded as Holmes proceeds to show how it is done. It all seems very simple, but then so is anything once you've been shown  how.

After some time in their new apartments in 221B Baker Street, it becomes apparent that Holmes is using the place as an office of sorts; seeing people who appear to need his help, including a police inspector known as Lestrade. For these consultations, iniitally, Holmes requests the room so that he and his clients can have privacy, but when a letter arrives for him and he reads it in Watson's presence, he takes the doctor into his confidence, as he will do from now on. The letter is from another police inspector, by the name of Gregson, who requests his assistance in an unexplained murder.

Asking Watson to accompany him, Holmes sets off for the place, which turns out to be a deserted, empty house. A man lies dead inside, no mark on him, no blood except the word RACHE written on the wall. Although Lestrade - who uncovers the word - gleefully pins all his hopes on this, believing it to be the uncompleted name Rachel, Holmes dismisses it, remarking that it is in fact the German word for revenge, but is unimportant, an attempt by the murderer to throw them off the scent. Murderer? Yes, Holmes confirms grimly, this man was indeed murdered. When the two  police officers ask how, he says it was poison.

The man has been identified as Enoch J. Drebber, an American from Cleveland, Ohio, and a wedding ring is discovered at the scene. Both inspectors believe this points to the involvement of a woman (Lestrade probably privately still thinks this may be this Rachel) but Holmes is silent on the matter. He does what Watson will come to recognise as his usual thorough job of examining everything, inside the house and out, but says little. Holmes asks to speak to the constable (uniformed police officer) who discovered the body, and when they go to see PC John Rance Holmes is frustrated to hear that the constable had the murderer, or someone highly connected with it, in his hands, but let him go as he thought he was just a drunk. The canny detective though realises the man was just feigning being the worse for drink, and is angry that he is now in the wind.

He puts an advertisement in the local papers, advising of the finding of the wedding ring and asking if someone lost it to please call to Baker Street, then returns home with Watson. The next day they have a visit from an old woman, who agrees the ring is hers, and it is duly handed over. Holmes follows her, but she vanishes, having taken a cab, and he realises in annoyance that the old woman was in fact a young man in disguise, no doubt a confederate of the killer.  He send his small army of "street arabs", as they called them in the nineteenth century - basically urchins, small lads similar perhaps to Fagin's army of children in Oliver Twist, you know the kind of thing - on some errand. Annoyed when he is given the slip, Holmes is somewhat more amused when Inspector Gregson turns up, claiming to have solved the crime. He has someone in custody, and is convinced he is their man. Having obtained the address of the dead man's hatter from his hat, which was beside his body, he went there and got from the man Drebber's address. He then visited the boarding house where Drebber was staying, found out that the landlady there had a dispute with him over his unwanted attentions towards her daughter, and that her brother had gone after him. He has jumped to the conclusion that Arthur Charpentier therefore is the murderer. Holmes privately tuts and shakes his head: he knows that often the simplest and most obvious solution is rarely the right one, but it gives him some satisfaction to see the police blunder about on the wrong trail.

The wrong trail indeed. A short while later Lestrade rushes in, to bring them the news that Drebber's secretary, Joseph Stangerson, has also been murdered. So it could not have been Charpentier after all, at least, the second murder could not have been carried out by him. Gregson is crestfallen as his neatly-tied-up case bursts apart, but Holmes brightens when he hears what Lestrade considers unimportant information about the other murder, that there was in the dead man's room a box of pills. When he hears of an unsigned telegram found in Stangerson's pocket which reads "J. H. is in Europe", he snaps his fingers, says he has solved the case. Both men look at him as if he is mad. Watson, at this point, is not prepared to disagree; how can such a complicated murder - two now - with so few clues and no suspect, given that Charpentier must now be discounted - be solved so easily?

Holmes takes the tablets from Lestrade and feeds them to the landlady's dog, which is near death and which she had wished put down. The first tablet has no effect on the animal, and Holmes is annoyed, baffled, and a little embarrassed as the two detectives look at each other, possibly making circular motions at their temples with their fingers. Then he has it. He feeds the dog another tablet from the box and it quietly expires. He has been vindicated: the box has two types of tablet, one poison, one not. A short moment later WIggins, the head of his street Arabs comes up to say they have him. Holmes asks the boy to show him up, and when a man appears and Holmes directs him to pick up his luggage, it's only the work of seconds for him to clap handcuffs on the man. A furious struggle ensues, but between Lestrade, Holmes and Gregson they overpower the man, and when he sees fighting is useless he subsides.

"Gentlemen," says Holmes grandly, "let me introduce you to Mr. Jefferson Hope, the murderer of Enoch J. Drebber, and of Joseph Stangerson!"

Hope admits his guilt, but requests a chance to tell his story, which takes us back to his youth in the USA, where he met the beautiful Lucy Ferrier, who, with her adopted father John, were the only survivors of a wagon train and who were saved from death in the desert by a travelling band of Mormons, heading for Salt Lake City. Under the terms of the Mormon religion, Lucy was to be married to one of the sons of the two leaders, but her father knew them both to be horrible men, and that Lucy was already in love with a young rancher called Jefferson Hope, so he played for time until Hope could be contacted, then they all stole away together.

But the Mormons were not about to be cheated, and rode in pursuit. As Hope went off to hunt for some game so that they would not starve, John was shot and killed and Lucy taken back and forced to marry Enoch Drebber, the worst of the two. It later emerged that the pair played cards for her, and Drebber won her. She did not last long, pining away and dying soon afterwards, to the no great concern of her brutal new husband. Unable to take his revenge, Hope rode into the camp where Lucy's funeral was taking place and removed the wedding ring from her finger and rode off. He watched for his chance, following the two of them when they left America, across Europe, until finally he tracked them down in London, where he killed Drebber by forcing him to take a poison pill, or at least to choose between the safe one and the deadly one, and then knifed Stangerson to death.

There will however be no trial, as Hope is close to death: he has a heart condition, and will not last long. In fact he dies in his cell a few days later.

After the case

The epilogue here is quite short, and speaks of the by now inevitable death of Jefferson Hope, who passes away before he can stand trial for the double murder. Holmes explains his train of reasoning to a marvelling Watson.

Comments

To state the obvious, for a first novel this is nothing short of stunning. And brave. It wasn't his first writing of course - he had had some short stories published in magazines in the years prior, like any aspiring author of the time - but it was his first full-length novel. To take on a powerful religion like Mormonism was incredibly brave of him, though I read that later he made some apologies and detractions, claiming that he had been misled by various books he had read on the subject. Still, much of what he wrote was the truth: Mormons practised (still do) polygamy and they guard their secrets closely. Whether they are or were the murderous vengeful cult of which he writes here or not is something I don't know, but even suggesting they were, in a work of fiction, must have earned him some hatred across the water.

I didn't realise that Brigham Young, the leader of the Mormons in the book, who decrees Lucy's marriage to one or other of the elders' sons, was a real figure, the second president in fact of the Mormons. That might have been a step too far: if he had used a fictional name, maybe he would not have insulted the Mormons so deeply. At any rate, the novel is well-spaced, taking place across two continents and over a period of maybe forty or fifty years, given Hope Jefferson's narrative. It's the first I've seen where the mystery is conclusively solved, but then there's still about two-thirds of the book to go. When I read it recently I assumed when Holmes laid hands on Jefferson that we were near the end, but it was in fact just beginning.

It also has very few characters, for a novel: really there are only seven (excluding Holmes and Watson), eight if you include Arthur Charpentier. There are others, of course, but they're very minor and ancillary, and the only ones really involved deeply in the story are Lestrade and Gregson, Jefferson, Drebber, Stangerson, Lucy and John Ferrier. Everyone else is more or less incidental. It of course establishes quickly the character of Sherlock Holmes and some of that of Dr. Watson, though we learn more about him as the stories unfold over the next ten years or so. It's possibly one of the few - though not the only - in which the murderer is  treated with a good degree of sympathy, and the victims with none. We feel both earned their fate, and deserved to die. Even so, Hope is not allowed to get away with his crime but is not punished by any agency on this Earth.

It's also a novel peopled largely by ghosts. John Ferrier, Lucy, Drebber and Stangerson are all dead by the time the story begins, but the spirit of the first two hangs heavy over the plot, driving Jefferson Hope on to revenge. In one way, I suppose, it teaches a poor lesson, that revenge is a thing worth pursuing, but then at the same time it could be said that Hope's lust for revenge does for him, as perhaps he pushes himself too hard in pursuit of his quarry, and puts too much strain on his heart. In the end, perhaps, the old adage rings true: if you seek revenge, dig two graves. One for your victim, and one for yourself. The surname is surely well chosen, as the man's hope that he would live happily with Lucy is gone, and now his  only remaining hope is to avenge himself on her killers.

It can be said too that technically speaking neither Stangerson nor Drebber killed Lucy: she died of natural causes. But it was a death of the heart, a death of the soul, a death of hope that finished her. When she was forced to marry the brutish Drebber, she knew there was nothing left for her in life. One of them surely did kill her father though - it must have been Stangerson, as Drebber blubbed it was not him, though then again he would say that, wouldn't he? So at least one is guilty of murder. Nevertheless, the murder being avenged by hope is really that of Lucy, for Drebber driving her to the despair he did. There's not an ounce of sympathy afforded by Doyle to either of the men, nor I believe should there be: even when Lucy dies Drebber just shrugs; he has many other wives. There was no love there, just lust.

A Study in Scarlet was not the instant success it should have been, with hindsight. Doyle received many rejections before being paid the paltry sum of £25 (about £3,000 today) for the story and all rights to it, and it was published first in Beeton's Christmas Annual in 1887 to universal disinterest before being published as an actual novel the next year. The novel also begins the practice of the recounting of Holmes' adventures by Watson, who becomes his chronicler or his biographer, so that all the stories are told in the first person, narrated by the doctor with Holmes spoken of in the third person, I think a relatively unique situation in fiction, not only crime fiction.

Better Than You

Holmes from the first has a healthy disdain for police practices and the competence of the force. Given that the Metropolitan Police had only been formed in 1829, a mere fifty years before the publication of A Study in Scarlet, that's perhaps unfair but also understandable. Standard practices of which we're aware today - identity parades, fingerprinting, crime scene analysis - were largely unknown and not in use at the time, so Holmes' methods would have seemed unorthodox to Scotland Yard. Nevertheless, almost always, his way of investigating the crimes, the paths he takes and the clues he follows, turn out to be the right ones. Here I'll be recording where he shows up Scotland Yard, though be to totally fair to him, he never publicly humiliates or badmouths them, and always gives the investigating officer the credit, wanting none himself.

He has the measure of both inspectors here. Lestrade thinks he has uncovered an important clue when he discovers the word RACHE on the wall at Lauriston Gardens whereas Holmes knows it's an attempt by the murderer to try to wrong-foot the police.

He determines the method of Enoch Drebber's murder, when the police have no clue, given that there are no marks on the body and no blood to be found.

When Gregson announces proudly that he has broken the case by arresting Arthur Charpentier, he knows that the man is not guilty. This is confirmed shortly afterwards when, with their main suspect in custody, another murder takes place.

He sees the value and significance of the pills and the telegram, both of which mean nothing to either Gregson or Lestrade, and is able to use them to bring the case to a close.

Character Study

Here I'll be looking into each of the main (only) characters, with the exception of Holmes and Watson, and give my assessment of them.

Inspector Tobias Gregson: A man who intends to go places; ready to impress his superiors but perhaps too quick to come to conclusions without all the facts, and take the first and most obvious solution he sees. Sort of a precursor to today's idea of "get the case closed, I don't care how." Gregson here enjoys a rivalry with his opposite number, Inspector Lestrade, however it is the latter who triumphs and returns in future Holmes stories, whereas Gregson is never heard from again.

Inspector Lestrade: Fated to be Holmes' sounding board, and whose career will benefit highly from the assistance - unofficial of course, and never reported - that Holmes gives him, Lestrade learns quickly that the consulting detective is the man to turn to when he is baffled by a case. Even so, there are times when his arrogance will lead him to discount Holmes' theories, which are almost always correct. Oddly, Lestrade does not rate a first name, though we have an initial - G - but that could stand for anything: George? Graham? Gregory? Gavin?

John Ferrier: One of only two survivors from a pioneer wagon train, and the only adult, Ferrier believes death is the only reward waiting for he and the child, but fate steps in and has the Mormons rescue them just as their food and water has run out. In retrospect, he might have thought it better had they perished on the high cliff face on which they were found. Ferrier agrees to abide by the Mormons' rules - though he refuses to marry, taking not even one wife when most of the Mormons have several, a resistance that rankles with the leader, Brigham Young - but when it comes time to sacrifice his daughter to either of the brutish sons of the Elders, he decides they can all go fuck themselves and with the help of Jefferson Hope escapes with her. He doesn't get far though, being shot by the pursuing Mormons and buried where he falls.

Lucy Ferrier: The child John Ferrier carries with him as the Mormons discover and rescue them. Lucy is not his child, but her parents are dead and so he adopts her, she taking his name. She grows up into a beautiful young lady and falls in love with rancher Jefferson Hope when she goes into the city. Their romance blossoms, but is threatened by the Elders' insistence that she marry within the cult. After John Ferrier is shot she is brought forcibly back and wed to Enoch Drebber, but with a broken heart she only lasts a month before she dies.

Jefferson Hope: Having fallen in love with Lucy and secured her father's permission to marry, he is determined to save them both from the Mormons, but while away hunting he comes back to find John dead and already buried. Hiding out in the hills, unable to take on all the Mormons, he hears of her death and goes down into the settlement, taking her wedding ring and vowing vengeance on the men who caused her death. He spends his life fulfilling this promise, and finally makes good just before he dies himself, from a heart condition. He admits to his crimes, proving Sherlock Holmes correct in his assumptions.

Enoch Drebber: Son of one of the powerful Holy Four of the Mormons, the Elders and leaders of the cult, he desires Lucy Ferrier for his wife. Well, truth to tell, she could have gone to his friend, Joseph Stangerson, but they played cards and he won her. Once he has her though, having witnessed the death of her father, he loses interest and when she dies he is not at all bothered. Later he breaks with the Mormons for unspecified reasons (perhaps he was interfering with the wives of others? He's that sort of prick) and flees America with Stangerson acting as his secretary. Jefferson Hope follows him, tracking the two across Europe until he finally runs them down in London. Picking him up as he emerges drunk out of Mrs. Charpentier's boarding house, he takes him to Lauriston Gardens, where he reveals his identity and forces Drebber to take one of two pills, the other of which he takes himself. He says Providence guides his hand, or maybe he's just lucky, but in either case Drebber takes the poison pill and dies. Hope leaves him there, where he is discovered by PC Rance, leading to the beginning of the mystery, while he goes off to kill Stangerson.

Joseph Stangerson: Another son of the Elders, he is Drebber's confederate, and indeed subordinate, working for him as his secretary. It seems likely he is the one who shot John Ferrier, though this is never confirmed. After he hears of the death of Drebber, and with a telegram in his pocket advising him that his pursuer is in Europe, he remains in his hotel, terrified to come out. But Hope gets in, and offers him the same choice he gave Drebber. Stangerson, however, takes matters into his own hands and goes for Hope, who then stable him through the heart.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

After both Enoch Drebber and Joseph Stangerson are found dead, the one poisoned, the other stabbed, Sherlock Holmes links the crimes to a cabby with the initials J.H., who turns out to be Jefferson Hope, tracking the two men from America after they were both responsible for the death of his sweetheart and her father. Before he can be brought to trial however, Hope dies of a heart condition.

Holmes' Hit List

This is where I will recount all the "collars" Holmes has racked up during his career, at least in the stories. The criminals he has caught or that the police have caught with his help. Only ones directly involved in the stories will be entered here; for instance, when he refers back to some case not recorded by Watson - "I remember the case of..." which involved a criminal he caught, this will not be noted.

Jefferson Hope

Total: 1
Running total: 1



The Holmes Body Count

Broken down into those in whose death Holmes or Watson have an active, accidental or deliberate hand in, those who die incidentally (victims, witnesses, police etc) and those who are mentioned as having died as a result of the case, even if that is before Holmes gets involved. I'm not blaming him for all these deaths, nor making any judgement; merely listing the number of people who die as the stories progress.

Direct refers to deaths Holmes either had a direct hand in, or that he caused by his presence.

Indirect refers to deaths which occur as a result of Holmes' investigation, but usually outside of his presence or control, for instance, someone Holmes is pursuing kills an accomplice to cover his tracks etc.

Incidental takes into account deaths NOT CONNECTED DIRECTLY TO THE CASE but which would most likely not have occurred had Holmes not been investigating. Bystanders, servants, girlfriends, that sort of thing.

Historical refer to deaths which occur as a result of the case but before it, for instance people killed in the events leading up to the case.

Direct: None yet
Indirect: 3 (Jefferson Hope, Stangerson and Drebber)
Incidental:
Historical: 2 (John and Lucy Ferrier)
Total: 5

Famous firsts

Obviously, this being the first time we meet the pair, there are quite a few.
First meeting of Holmes and Watson
First mention of Baker Street
First examples of Holmes' deductive methods
First connections of Holmes with Scotland Yard

Satisfied Customer(s)?

No customer as such so this would be a N/A.

Legal outcome (if any):

Arrest made but culprit dies before coming to trial.

:5stars:

Title: The Sign of the Four
Year first published: 1890
Type: Novel
Chronology: Second novel, second Holmes story
Location(s): Baker Street; The Lyceum Theatre, the Strand (in passing) Rochester Row, Vincent Square, Vauxhall Bridge Road, Wordsworth Road, Priory Road, Larkhall Lane, Stockwell Place, Robert Street, Cold Harbour Lane; Norwood; Pondicherry Lodge; Lower Camberwell; Lambeth; Millbank Penitentiary; India* - Muttra*, Agra*, Madras*; Andaman Islands*
Date: September 1888
The crime or the mystery: The disappearance of Captain Arthur Morstan and the appearance, over six years, of a pearl sent in a box every year to Miss Morstan anonymously. Also a note received the above date, asking her to meet someone who will give her information on her father's fate. The focus quickly shifts to that of a murder, but not of the father.
The time (if given): 11 PM (for the murder, or at least, the discovery of same)

(*in flashback; Small's story)


The Players
The client(s): Miss Mary Morstan
The victim(s): Bartholomew Sholto
The accused or suspected: Thaddeus Sholto, his brother
The arrested: Thaddeus Sholto. McMurdo, Lal Rao
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Athelney Jones
The advocate(s): Holmes and Watson. Mary Morstan
The real culprit(s): Jonathan Small and Tonga, an islander from the Andamans (a pygmy)
Others: Mrs. Bernstone, housekeeper at Pondicherry Lodge; McMurdo, the gatekeeper at the Lodge; Lal Rao, Indian servant at the Lodge; Sherman the taxidermist; Mrs. Cecil Forrester, with whom Miss Morstan lodges; Toby the dog; Mordecai Smith, boat owner; Mrs. Smith, his wife; Wiggins, leader of the Baker Street Irregulars

The clues: A poison dart, small footprints in Sholto's room, the note bearing the Sign of the Four
The red herring(s): None
The breakthrough: Holmes figures out where the Aurora has been hidden, and is lucky enough to be there when Smith comes calling for it.
The result: The treasure is lost, but Small is taken. Tonga is killed and Watson is engaged to Mary Morstan.
[b[]How the case is solved:[/b] Realising there have been two people in the room when Bartholomew Sholto was murdered, and seeing the name  Jonathan Small on the paper with the Sign of the Four on it, Holmes searches for the launch which he has determined is to take Small to a ship which will enable him to get out of the country. Having located it, he and the police chase it till they run the criminal down and take him in.

Famous Firsts

First mention of Holmes' use of cocaine
First mention of the monographs he has written
First "review" by Holmes of Watson's chronicling of his cases
First mention of Mrs. Hudson by name (in A Study in Scarlet she is just referred to as "the landlady")
First meeting of Watson with his soon-to-be wife
First time Holmes plays the violin
First participation in a case by Holmes of Inspector Athelney Jones


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

That Watson has been out to post a telegram

That the watch Watson hands him belonged to his brother, who had a bad life and  squandered his inheritance, fell into debt, out of which he occasionally rose. He was clumsy and careless, took to drink and has passed on.

Before the case

Watson is arguing with Holmes about the damage he is doing to his body and brain by taking cocaine. Holmes argues that he gets bored when there is no case, and this is his alternative. He lets Watson know about the monographs he has written, then he examines Watson's watch, whereupon Mary Morstan is shown in.

Synopsis:

Mary Morstan arrives to request Holmes' help. She has been receiving, for six years now, a pearl sent in a box, from an anonymous source. She has lost her father, whom she went to meet in London after he had returned from service in India, but he never turned up and she has not seen him from that day to this. She now has received a letter to ask her to meet a mysterious person who he says will tell her what happened to her father. She is allowed bring two friends, but no police, so Holmes and Watson accompany her to her meeting. In the cab she shows them a piece of paper she has found in her father's desk, marked with four crosses and the legend "The Sign of the Four - Jonathan Small, Mohammed Singh, Dost Akbar and Abdullah Khan." This means nothing to Holmes, though he notes it is written on Indian paper and was once pinned to a board, but has since been carried in a pocketbook.

On meeting the writer of the letter, they find it to be a small, nervous man called Thaddeus Sholto, who tells them that he and his brother Bartholemew are the sons of Major Sholto, who was in the same regiment as Miss Morstan's father. He further enlightens them that his own father had a terrible fear of men with wooden legs, and that he received a letter from India which shocked and frightened him so that he sickened and never recovered. The night he died he told his sons how Captain Morstan had died, of a heart attack after the two men had quarrelled about his share of what he called the Agra treasure. Fearful that he would be blamed for the man's death, he had his body buried and said nothing. The decision weighed heavily upon him for the rest of his life, and he now told his sons that he had wronged Mary Morstan and that half the Agra treasure was hers. He was about to reveal its location, when he spotted someone looking in the window and died of fright. The next morning the room had been turned over, and a piece of paper was found pinned to the dead man's chest with "The Sign of the Four" scrawled on it.

He says they must go to see his brother, Bartholomew, but when they get there they find to his distress and their worry that the man is dead, seemingly having been killed without anyone entering the room he is in. It's locked and the windows are closed. There is a poison dart in Bartholomew Sholto, and his brother additionally bemoans the theft of the Agra treasure. Holmes sends him to alert the police, while he figures out how the assassin got in. Fairly quickly he deduces it was through a hole in the roof, with no doubt a companion to lower him down and pull him back up with the aid of a rope. The footprints left by the companion are very small though, which sets the detective thinking.

Seeing that the footprint leads into some creosote, Holmes sets a dog on the companion's trail, but unfortunately all it does is lead them to a timber yard, where the creosote probably came from. Thaddeus, meanwhile, is, as he worried he might be, arrested, along with the rest of his household, by the investigating officer, Inspector Athelney Jones. Holmes continues his own investigation and concludes that the real killer, whom he now knows to be a man called Jonathan Small and a tiny savage from the Andaman Islands, have booked passage on a launch called Aurora, but there is no sign of her. He sets the Baker Street Irregulars to track it down.

When Thaddeus Sholto is proven to have an alibi Jones has to let him go, and turns to Holmes for help. Holmes has him commandeer a police launch and they set off after Small and his companion, having located the launch in a shipyard and been lucky enough to be there when Mordecai Smith came back shouting for it to be ready for eight o'clock. There ensues a high-speed chase down the Thames, during which the pygmy is shot by Watson as he readies a poison dart to blow at them, and Jonathan Small tips out the treasure into the river before being caught.

In custody, he tells his story, of how he lost his leg to a crocodile and therefore had, as Holmes had deduced, a wooden one, how he had served in the army during the Indian Mutiny, and how  he had fallen in with three others (Dost Akbar, Mahomet Singh and Abduallah Kahn, you'll now doubt be unsurprised to hear) who had set about a envoy of a rajah, who was carrying his master's treasure, killed him and hid the chest away, until the mutiny had been put down. But the murder of the envoy had been witnessed and all four of them were arrested and convicted. Moved eventually to the Andaman Islands, Small confided in Major Sholto, who was posted there in command and due to go home on leave, and broke from his gambling debts, about the treasure. He and Morstan then agreed to Small's terms, to help all four escape - for they had sworn an oath to always act together, and this agreement marked with the Sign of the four of them - and they should both have a fifth share of the loot. Sholto however betrayed them all, and left without helping them, but did help himself to the treasure, which he brought back to England.

Small eventually managed to secure his escape by befriending Tonga, a pygmy who had fallen ill and whom he nursed back to health, and who was then fanatically loyal to him. Back in England, he then shadowed Major Sholto until finally he heard he was dying, got into his room and stole the treasure. He says he had not intended to kill him, but Tonga did that himself. This does not of course save him from prison. There is good news for Watson though, when Mary Morstan accepts his offer of marriage.

After the case

Not a lot. Watson announces his intention to marry Mary Morstan, and Holmes groans that he is about to lose his friend so soon.
 

Comments:

I don't know if he did it on purpose, but damn if that chasing the launch down the Thames scene wasn't made for TV adaptation! You'd have to say this novel has more overall excitement, or at least a more powerful denouement than the previous; whether Doyle learned from it or not I don't know but it's a real crowd-pleaser. So much happens here, and it's odd in a way that having gone to the trouble of getting Holmes and Watson together he pulls them apart in the next novel, leaving the latter having to visit or be called in by Holmes whenever there's a case. I mean, if this was his plan, why have them living together in the first place? Or if he was going to split them up, why not wait till later, when they'd had a bunch of adventures? Anyway the special relationship between them will continue, but there's an element of it being dampened now, as a) they're no longer living in the same rooms and b) one of them is no longer a bachelor.

This novel does much to solidify the idea of Holmes as an unemotional calculating crime-solving machine. This comes through strongest when, at the beginning of the novel, he's asked by Watson what he can glean from the watch he's handed, and goes into some detail about the owner, his late brother's troubles, upsetting Watson. He remarks that he saw it as a problem to be solved and had not taken into account the personal side of things. He does apologise, but it's illustrative of how little Holmes considers people's feelings, even those of his friend. When Mary Morstan has left Watson remarks on her beauty and Holmes grunts that he didn't notice. Not only that, but when his friend tells him of his engagement he groans that it will be the ruin of him; this is quite selfish of the man. He's thinking now Watson will move out and I will have nobody to bounce ideas off and go for walks with. A bit childish really, a bit petulant.

We're introduced here too to a second inspector, whom again I think we don't hear from after this; as I say, and as everyone knows, Lestrade ends up being the main police contact for Holmes. I suppose it makes sense just to have one. I think this is the first real instance we hear too of Holmes' use of cocaine, quite a controversial subject I would have thought in the nineteenth century. Here we're told he uses it only when he's bored and has no cases, as it relieves the everyday humdrum, which is I suppose how most people look on cocaine use: an escape, a way to ignore or to not to have to deal with the world they can't face or don't like.

The treasure is handled in a different way too. It's supposed to belong to Mary Morstan, but Watson sees it as an obstacle to his love for her. If she were to marry him he would feel that she might think he was doing it for money, and even if she didn't, society would. Apart from that, as a woman of means and wealth she would surely suddenly have many suitors, and he doesn't consider himself as having much to offer. When the chest is found empty, Athelny Jones is angry, Holmes really doesn't care as long as he has solved the mystery, and both Watson and Mary are happy, as there is now no barrier to their love, which is reciprocal. So it's almost a macguffin I suppose: something that moves the plot along but in the end is actually not important to it. Well, apart from poor old Bartholomew Sholto being killed for it, I guess.

Character Study

Thaddeus Sholto: Although much is made of his description, and after Mary has engaged Holmes he is the agency by which Holmes and Watson are brought into the mystery, he doesn't actually figure that much in the story. He sort of fades out of it once the body is discovered and he is arrested on suspicion of murdering his own brother. We hear later that he has been released as he has an alibi, but we hear no more of him after that.

Mary Morstan: In similar fashion, though she acts as the conduit for Holmes to get involved in the mystery, she's a sort of peripheral figure, being brought news of the progress of the case by Watson, but not involved in it. Of course, she does play an important part at the end when she agrees to marry Watson.

Inspector Athelney Jones: And a third time, pretty much peripheral. Jones is, like much of the police input to Holmes stories, used really as a way to show how the official force bollocks things up, and how Holmes has to show them where they go wrong. Although he engages the police launch and does take part in the chase down the Thames, he's mostly a sort of spectator and then a listener as Small pours out his story. He gets it wrong, has to turn to Holmes and is relegated to watching more or less while the consulting detective solves the mystery.

Jonathan Small: I suppose you'd have to say that of all the characters here other than Holmes and Watson, Small has the largest (sorry) part to play, but even so it's only at the end that we even know his story, and it is told rather quickly, just a sort of tying up of loose ends and explanations. Unlike Jefferson Hope, who takes up the entire second part of A Study in Scarlet, Small does not have the lion's share of the narrative, despite being the unintentional murderer and intentional thief.

Better than you

Holmes as always smiles when he sees Athelney Jones arrest Thaddeus Sholto, along with most of the rest of the household. He knows the inspector is on the wrong track, but then things do not go entirely his way either. Witness his comedic bumbling effort to track down Tonga via the creosote and Toby the dog, or his frustration when he can't find the launch. He even admits at the end that he believed the islander out of darts, and when he is told that Tonga retained one in his pipe, shrugs that he had not thought of that. So he's not infallible, but in fairness never claimed to be. You'd have to say that in one way though his break in the case comes about purely by luck. Yes, he methodically searches the shipyards along the docks until he finds the one that took in the Aurora, but he would have had no idea either that it was leaving that night or what time, had Smith not chanced to stumble along with the information rather helpfully. So there is an element of chance in his solving the mystery.

I guess that's good, as it shows us that the mighty detective, with all his powers of reasoning and deduction, can be as susceptible to the vagaries of fate and chance as any of us, and like all cases, it's often pure dumb luck, being in the right place at the right time that gives you the answer and allows you to solve it.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

After a lady comes to Holmes to ask him to accompany her in finding out what happened to her father, a murder results. This turns out to be due to the theft of a great box of treasure by the man who originally stole it, and who was betrayed by the father of the dead man. Holmes catches him but the treasure is lost overboard in the case. Watson marries the client.

Holmes' Hit List

Jonathan Small, Tonga

Total: 2
Running total: 3

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1 (Tonga)
Indirect: 1 (Bartholomew Sholto)
Incidental: 0
Historical: 4 (Major Sholto, envoy, soldier killed by Small in his escape bid, Captain Morstan)
Note: it would be ridiculous to add in all the soldiers and civilians killed in the Indian Mutiny, so it should be understood that the Body Count only covers specific characters in the story whom we are told died or were killed, and either were named or described - in the latter case, the soldier Small kills as he escapes from the Andaman Islands.
Total: 6
Running total: 11

Satisfied Customers?

In this section I will ask the question, did Holmes give value for money/time, and did he solve the case in a way that satisfied the client? Did he do all he could on behalf of them, or did he leave them hanging? Were they, in the end, glad to have sought out his services, or did they perhaps wonder they they had bothered?

Some of these will be nowhere near as straight-forward as asking was the case solved? In many stories, the answer is in the affirmative but this does not always necessarily mean that the client's best interests have been served, or that the outcome is a satisfactory one. I will be explaining my reasoning and why I make the determination I do.

Hard to call this one really. Essentially, you would say no, as the object the client had in mind was to find her father, and he is dead, but then, she finds perhaps something more important, love with John Watson, so on balance I would say YES, though in fairness not through any agency, and indeed against the personal preference of Holmes.

Legal outcome (if any): Jonathan Smalls is taken into custody.

:4.5stars:

Title: "A Scandal in Bohemia"
Year first published: 1891
Type: Short story
Chronology: First short story, 1st story in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes; third Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Briony Lodge, Serpentine Ave, St. John's Wood; Gross & Hankey's, Regent Street; Church of St. Monica,  Edgware Road
Date: March 20 1888
The crime: Blackmail
The mystery: Where the photograph has been hidden
The time (if given): 7:45 PM



The Players
The victim(s): His Majesty Wilhelm Gottreich Sigismond von Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, heir to the throne of Bohemia (let's just call him the King of Bohemia, huh?)
The accused or suspected: Irene Adler, a former lover
The arrested: None; not a criminal case
The investigating officer(s): None; too delicate an issue for the police to be involved
The advocate(s): None; the correct suspect is known and does not disguise the fact
The real culprit(s): Irene Adler
Others: Godfrey Norton, Irene Adler's fiance and then husband

The clues: None; Holmes has to trick Irene Adler into revealing the location of the photograph
The red herring(s): None
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: Groom, Priest
The breakthrough: When Holmes causes a false fire alarm to be raised
How the case is solved: Holmes finds out where the photograph is by the above means, but before he can retrieve it Irene Adler and her new husband depart for foreign shores.
The result: Inconclusive; Adler susses Holmes out and leaves the next day, leaving the king a letter promising not to reveal the photograph, as she has fallen in love and no longer wants her revenge.

Famous Firsts

First time Holmes' case involves a royal or aristocratic client

Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

That Watson has gone back into practice.

That he has been wet recently and that he has a clumsy, careless maid.


Before the case

Living apart from him now, Watson drops in on Holmes and finds him awaiting the arrival of the king.

Synopsis:

No longer living with Holmes since his marriage, which took place, or was alluded to, at the end of the second novel, The Sign of the Four, Watson calls in on him and finds him awaiting a visitor. This turns out to be the King of Bohemia himself (though disguised, a ruse Holmes quickly sees through) who wants him to help him recover a photograph which a certain Irene Adler has. The king used to walk out with Irene, and now he is getting married, but Irene is upset and is threatening to release the photograph, which is of the two of them together, and would ruin his upcoming marriage.

Holmes begins by disguising himself as a groom (no, not that kind: the sort who look after horse) and checking out all the gossip he can. He finds out that Irene Adler has a man, a guy called Godfrey Norton, and in the course of his investigations he gets swept up into their marriage ceremony, standing as best man, to his great surprise and considerable amusement. His humour changes though when it becomes clear the now-married couple are about to leave the country, and he has to put his own plan into action without delay. He sets it up so that there is a paid crowd outside Irene's house, and asks Watson to throw in a smoke rocket at his signal. He is disguised again, this time as a priest, and when Irene gets out of her carriage he feigns being assaulted. She then has him brought into the house. Watson, at Holmes' signal, throws in the rocket and raises the cry of "fire!" Irene rushes to where the photograph is being kept, and Holmes, having noted its location, makes himself scarce.

As they return to Baker Street though, someone greets them, and it is only later Holmes realises that for once he has been outsmarted; the greeter is Irene, and she has seen through his plan. However all is well; married now and with no need or wish to harm the king, she  leaves  him a letter promising that he is safe; the photograph will never be used. The king leaves happily, and Holmes reflects on having met all but his match.

After the case

Not much. Realising he has been beaten, and by a woman, no less, Holmes asks the king for the photograph of Irene Adler, which he keeps on his desk to remind him of her.

Comments:

For the first short story about Holmes this is an interesting one, though on face value not so much. It's a poor mystery - not a mystery at all, rather a sort of puzzle: how to find the photograph and get it out of Irene's hands?  But as an illustration of how fallible Holmes may be at times, it works well. Given that Doyle has spent the last two novels building his character up to almost mythological, godlike proportions, it's telling that he has him taken down a peg here. And by a woman. Although Holmes thinks he has outsmarted Irene, he has not: he has overplayed his hand and she has seen him. It's mere lucky chance that she gets married, otherwise the likelihood is that, seeing the king had engaged Holmes, she might be angry and make good on her threat.

So in a way here again, fortune plays a very prominent part in Holmes' case. As he was lucky to break the case in The Sign of the Four, here his mission could have failed entirely but for the circumstances changing. And really, when you think about it, it's sort of a poor plot device, isn't it? I mean, if Irene is in love, why is she threatening the king? Surely this is not a whirlwind romance (though it does seem in the nineteenth century that people got married almost after saying hello for the first time!) so if she's had this going for a while, why the vitriol against the king? In fact, Holmes remarks that the photograph she possesses could become a double-edged sword, for if her new husband were to see it, he might break off the engagement.

I therefore find it a bit of a flailing in the dark in terms of solving the dilemma. I won't presume to say how I would have written it, but I can think of better ways to have ended the story. It's one of few characters, too, unlike many of the later ones; he was probably tired of dealing with a cast of people in his novels (though in fairness they were quite thin on the ground too), and I would have thought a poor choice to kick off the series. I mean, when it gets right down to it, what is it? A lost/stolen property case really. No murder, no shify individuals, and nobody gets in a sticky situation over a five pound note.

I do admit I find Watson's readiness to break the law, when Holmes asks him, a little hard to understand. The doctor is known as a law-abiding man, and up to this has not been involved in anything that could be said to be in any way illegal. Of course he trusts his friend, but he doesn't even raise an objection, or ask what it is he has to do. When Holmes says "You don't mind breaking the law?" He replies "Not in the least." That really doesn't seem like him, and I think it's put over a little too glibly to ring true. And then Holmes asks if he would risk being arrested? Well, I suppose in for a penny, and if you've attested to your willingness to walk on the wrong side of the law, you must expect that it might end in a jail cell. But Watson is a married man now, with his own responsibilities and his own practice, therefore his reputation - to say nothing of that of his wife - would be at stake if it goes wrong, so I think he should at least have hesitated a little.

The choice to bring in Irene Adler, who could have been as powerful an adversary - or helpful an ally - for Holmes as Moriarty (of which I'll speak later) and then to cut her right out of the stories is to me an odd one. Why introduce such a powerful female figure and then write her out in the same story? Was Doyle afraid his readers would not take to the idea of a woman being smarter than his sleuth? Did he worry that Holmes' effectiveness might suffer if he had to keep matching wits with "the woman", or was he concerned that the emotionless being he had created might suddenly turn soft?

All things taken into account, I have to say I find this a poor story and though Doyle is reputed to have claimed it as one of his favourites, it's not one of mine. It has its moments, but the ending is a very damp squib and I felt like I was left with a feeling of "so what?"

Character Study

King of Bohemia: Meh. You don't learn much about him, other than that he sowed his wild oats when young (what else is new?) and is now worried his chickens are going to come home to roost. He's a plot device really, not a character, and there's little to say about him.

Irene Adler: Despite the admiration Holmes has for her, I don't really see it. She has hidden the photograph away cleverly, yes, but was it really possible no experienced burglar would have thought of looking where it ends up being? And what special powers does she exhibit, other than being able to see through Holmes' disguise and turn the tables on him? We learn she's a fiery, tempestuous woman who has moved in royal circles and has a nasty side that allows her to contemplate the ruin of someone she once loved. Not a very endearing trait. If she had been allowed stick around, come back later in other stories maybe she might have been made more of, but here she's woefully underused I feel.


The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

The King of Bohemia contracts Holmes to get back an embarrassing photograph held by Irene Adler, who he once loved, a photograph that could threaten his upcoming marriage. Holmes uses trickery to cause the woman to reveal the location of the photograph. She gets married and no longer cares, and leaves the country. The king is safe and his marriage can proceed.

The Holmes Hit List
0
Running total: 3

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 11

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Very much so. The king does not get his photograph back, but believes Irene Adler when she says she no longer wishes him any harm. If there's a disappointed person here, it's Holmes, when he realises he has been duped. But his client is happy so this is a YES.

Legal outcome (if any): None

:2stars:

Title: "The Red-Headed League"
Year first published: 1891
Type: Short story
Chronology: 2nd short story, 2nd story in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes; 4th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Fleet Street; Coburg Square; King Edward Street; St. James' Hall
Date: October 8 1890
The crime or the mystery: The sudden disappearance of a place of work, which in turn leads to an attempted bank robbery
The time (if given): 10 am or just after


The Players
The client: Jabez Wilson, a pawnbroker
The victim(s): Same; technically speaking though, Mr. Merryweather, the banker, though he is more a potential than actual victim
The accused or suspected: None
The arrested: John Clay and William Morris (see below)
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Athelney Jones
The advocate(s): None
The real culprit(s): Vincent Spaulding aka John Clay, criminal extraordinaire ; Duncan Ross aka William Morris, ostensible secretary of the Red-Headed League
Others: Mr. Merryweather, director of the Suburban Bank

The clues: "Spaulding" being willing to work for half wages, always taking photographs, spending a lot of time in the cellar; he being the one who brings the advertisement to Mr. Wilson's notice; he having a white splash of acid on his face; his trouser knees being dirty, the bank being on the road behind and in a direct line with the pawnbroker's; the pavement at the front door hollow from a tunnel having been dug beneath it
The red herring(s): The fact that Ross is concerned that Wilson is not married and has no children
The breakthrough: When Holmes recognises John Clay
The result: Holmes and his party are just in time to prevent a major bank robbery, resulting in the apprehension of one of the most dangerous and hunted criminals  in London.

Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

That Wilson has at one time performed manual labour; that he is a Freemason; that he writes a lot, that he has been in China.

Synopsis:

Holmes and Watson are approached by a pawnbroker, Jabez Wilson, who has a strange tale to tell. He relates how he answered an advertisement for red-headed men to join something called the Red-Headed League, and was subsequently chosen out of hundreds to come to an office every morning and copy out the Encyclopaedia Britannica. He was well paid, the only conditions of his employment being that he must turn up every day and the appointed hour, and not leave before closing time, 2 pm. In addition, he was not allowed to leave the office for any reason. After a few days, his mysterious employer, who had initially come to the office to check up on him, left him to his own devices.

Eight weeks went by and then that very morning he arrived at the office to find it locked, with a notice on the door advising that the Red-Headed League had been dissolved. In despair and anger, he then checked around and found that the man he had known as Duncan Ross was using the name William Morris to rent the room, and had now moved out. Having been given an address for the man, Mr. Wilson had tried to trace him, but the address had turned out to be false.

Holmes begins his investigation by visiting the pawnbrokers, ascertaining certain things he wishes to clear up or confirm. He then contacts Inspector Athelney Jones and the manager of the bank, a Mr. Merryweather, as all four proceed to the vault of the Suburban Bank that night. After some hours in the dark, the thieves come through their tunnel into the vault, where they are apprehended and the gold in the bank saved. Holmes notes that the whole idea of the Red-Headed League - a complete fiction, made up by Spaulding/Clay and Ross/Morris for Mr. Wilson's benefit - was to get the pawnbroker out of the shop so that the two robbers could work on their tunnel undisturbed. Once they had dug far enough and no longer needed the subterfuge, the scheme was shut down, as it no longer mattered whether or not Wilson was in the shop.


Comments:

It seems rather fantastical to me. So Clay and his accomplice set up this Red-Headed League and then hundreds of men turned up for a position they were never going to be chosen for? How did Duncan Ross turn away so many before Wilson arrived, and still allay suspicion that this was just a scam? Would it not have been better to have arranged a private interview with Ross? Other than that, the story holds together well, though it might be wondered what excuse Ross used to enable him to call upon Clay every day for eight months and not arouse the curiosity of the maid. Maybe Clay answered the door himself, but if he was digging the tunnel, how could he always be on hand?

I find here again that Doyle's dates don't match up. Wilson shows Holmes the advertisement, which is marked April, and Watson notes that it is two months ago, which would then make the date somewhere in June. Yet the notice pinned to the office door that same morning reads October. So which is it? Watson also describes the season as autumn in the opening narrative, which fits in more with October than June, but that would then mean that the advertisement must have been in the paper in August.

Another story with Athelny Jones as the police presence, though in fairness Doyle doesn't embarrass him at all: he's merely there as a device to allow Clay and his associate to be officially arrested; the criminal is said to be very bright and intelligent - as well as ruthless - and might realise that Holmes and Watson would have no authority to take them into custody.

Perhaps unique in being the first (only?) story in which the client does not figure to the end. Wilson, in fact, though he brings  his, at the time trivial, problem to Holmes, goes home more or less unsatisfied, and is not called upon again. It is Holmes, Watson, Jones and Mr. Merryweather who catch Clay. It's possible that Wilson later learns that his shop has been used as the base for criminals, but that's not mentioned, so in effect, at least until the robbery attempt is revealed, Jabez Wilson stands, so far, as the first unsatisfied client Sherlock Holmes has had.

The tone of the story changes radically, from a more or less humorous, whimsical one in the opening stages to a far darker, more serious one as Holmes investigates further. It will not be the only story which goes through such a change in mood.

How the case is solved

After realising that the work Wilson is doing is pointless, and must only be a ruse to get him out of the pawnbroker's shop, Holmes' suspicions are confirmed when Wilson describes his assistant, and the detective recognises him as John Clay, master criminal. He knows Clay would have no reason to seek honest employment, especially at half wages, and as it was he who brought the advertisement about the Red-Headed League to his employer's attention, the scheme must be his. Having paid a visit to the pawnbroker's, and seeing the bank abuts onto the street behind it, he works out that there is an attempt at bank robbery in progress.

Character Study

Jabez Wilson: A small, inconsequential little man really, who does little and leads a very boring and almost hermit-like life. He is somewhat self-important, believing he has been done out of money he was promised (but then, he is a pawnbroker, so what would you expect?) when he goes to see Holmes, but it's just as well he does, as otherwise the attempted robbery would not have been discovered. He's described by Holmes as "not over-bright", and this is true: he doesn't suspect any ulterior motive when a man who should be able to secure a decent job takes his position for half pay. The splash of acid on his face should set alarm bells ringing, as who would have such a disfigurement but someone who had walked on the wrong side of the law?

John Clay aka Vincent Spaulding: The brains of the operation, he is said to have royal blood, being related to a duke, and expects to be treated as such. This doesn't stop him literally getting down and dirty as he digs the tunnel, and given the list of crimes he is accused of by Jones - thief, murderer, forger and smasher - you would expect him to get a pretty long sentence, probably transportation, maybe even the rope. On the other hand, if he has royal connections it's possible he may be able to arrange a lighter sentence for himself.

Better than you N/A

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Pawnbroker Mr. Jabez Wilson is tricked into leaving his shop for several hours a day, supposedly working for the Red-Headed League, doing meaningless clerk work. This is all so that his new assistant, who is in fact the criminal mastermind, John Clay, can dig a tunnel through to the bank adjacent and rob it of its gold. Holmes discovers the plan and brings the police, catching the thieves in the act.

Holmes' Hit List

John Clay
Total: 1
Running total:4

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 11

Satisfied Customer(s)?

In terms of the actual client, no. Wilson is sent on his way with a sharp rebuke from Holmes that he has lost nothing, and has in fact gained financially, just not as much as he had expected. So a disappointed and frustrated client who sought Holmes out, presumably on the basis of his reputation, and must now be wondering if that regard in which he is held is justified?

In terms though of the non-client, as it were, the director of the City and Suburban Bank, a resounding YES, as Holmes foils the attempt by John Clay to rob his bank. Mind you, as he was unaware of such an attempt being made, can that be customer satisfaction? He did not engage Holmes (though he will certainly be happy to pay for his services now, after the fact) so can he be considered to be a client? I believe not, and this has to go down, in client terms, as a failure.

Legal outcome, if any: John Clay and Morris are arrested, and the bank robbery is foiled.

:2stars:

Title: "A Case of Identity"
Year first published: 1891
Type: Short story
Chronology: 3rd short story, 3rd story in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 5th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; King's Cross; Leadenhall Street
Date: None given
The crime or the mystery: The disappearance of Mr. Hosmer Angel
The time (if given): None given


The Players
The client: Miss Mary Sutherland
The victim(s): (ostensibly) Mr. Hosmer Angel
The accused or suspected: None
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): None
The advocate(s): Holmes
The real culprit(s): Mr. James Windbank, Mary's stepfather
Others: Mary's mother (unnamed); Mary's dead father (unnamed)

The clues: "Hosmer Angel" only meeting Mary at night, and only when her father is away; speaking in a low whisper and typing all his letters, wearing tinted glasses and making Mary swear to be true to him even if he disappeared.
The red herring(s): None
The breakthrough: None as such; Holmes puts the clues together, compares them with similar incidents which have taken place in Europe, and has his solution.
The result: "Hosmer Angel" is exposed as Mr. Windibank himself


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:
That Mary has come out in a hurry, that she is a typist and is short-sighted.

Before the case

Holmes and Watson are debating how smaller, less ordinary crimes are more interesting than big, sensational ones, and how life is often stranger than the strangest fiction.

Synopsis:

A Miss Mary Sutherland implores Holmes to find her missing lover, Hosmer Angel, who, on the day he was to have married her, vanished on the way to the church. Her father, a Mr. Windibank, does not seem concerned and will not call in the police. He is a controlling man, and does not want his step-daughter seeing anyone. When Hosmer Angel disappears he insists she forget about him, but her mother reminds her to remain true to her promise. Holmes notices that the letters Hosmer Angel sends Mary are all typewritten, and that though he says he works in Leadenhall Street, he has provided no address, no proof of this. He is also intrigued that Mary is allowing her parents to dip into her legacy while she is at home, but that this source of income will cease once she marries and leaves the house.

Having thought it over, Holmes invites Windibank to Baker Street, where he exposes his scam, telling him he knows all about his masquerading as Hosmer Angel in order to secure the promise from his step-daughter that she will never marry another, keeping his access to her money safe. He chases him out of the apartment, unable to go to the police.

After the case

Nothing much. Holmes remarks that Windibank will come to a bad end, with such a nasty and deceitful side to him.

How the case is solved:

Holmes realises there is no Hosmer Angel. Windibank merely wishes to keep spending his step-daughter's inheritance, and so disguises himself and woos her, in order to ensure she promises to marry no other man. Then, on the morning of the wedding, he steps into the cab and then out the door before it can move off, leaving it to arrive empty at the church. Having extracted the promise from Mary, he now knows that he is safe: she will never leave home and he can keep using her money.

Comments:

Although there's a sense of almost comedy about this, it's a dark little story that tells of how far a man will go in the name of greed, even sacrificing his step-daughter's happiness and sanity to achieve his ends. It's based of course on certain true-life events, but handled well. The role of the mother is not dealt with; she was obviously in on it, and while we might expect a stepfather to be less than paternal towards the offspring of his new wife, we should imagine that she would at least have some sort of motherly affection for her, and want to protect her, but this does not seem to be the case. Greed is all. Reminds me of a harrowing and terrifying account I read in one of those books about Victorian London, where a husband and wife discuss blinding their daughter in order that the sympathy of people be better aroused when she begs. That's not made up: that was real. And if people could do that, well then, selling your kid out for her money doesn't seem too much of a stretch, does it?

Another story in which the client is not satisfied, nor, as far as we're told anyway, even informed of the outcome of the case. Hard to decide whether Holmes has taken the right approach here, assuming he does not later advise Mary of what has happened. Better to let her live in ignorance, pining away from the fictitious Hosmer Angel, or tell her the truth and let her get on with her life? And what's to stop the stepfather doing something equally as horrible and selfish? No charges have been made, and Holmes, despite his threat to whip the man before he runs out, has no authority to bring him to justice; there is no crime here, other than one of a moral nature. Not exactly a happy ending.

A somewhat more caustic view of Holmes' approach is taken by feminist author Wanda C. Dexter in her article "The True Face of Some Admired Male Figures of Popular Culture", published in Quarterly Gender Review, Sep 2002: It's hard not to agree with her, and I already more or less have, above. Here's what she has to say:

"There is a worldwide community of Sherlock Holmes admirers who engage in perpetual adulation of their 19th Century hero. A casual look through the so-admired Holmes stories should be enough to uncover the nasty person just under the surface. Take how he treats his female client in the story "A Case of Identity". (...) What a patronizing arrogance, to decide for his client whether or not she could stand hearing the truth! Holmes was manifestly unethical to his client. She engaged him to find Hosmer Angel. He found Hosmer Angel. He should have given his client the information she wanted and let her decide what to do with it. And presumably he did not work for free. So he had no shame, taking her money and failing to give value for it! (...). Anyway, what is this nonsense about the villain being beyond reach of the law? In British law of that time, a man could be sued for breach of promise. Even a bachelor who proposed to a woman with complete sincerity and then changed his mind could be sued. All the more so a married man who went through an elaborate charade and fallaciously courted his own daughter in law! Any half-decent lawyer could have broken him in court, as he so richly deserved. Instead, Holmes lets her live on, unsuspecting, pining for her lost love, under the tutelage of her criminal father-in-law, who might hatch a dozen new nefarious schemes! In effect, she is the victim of a de-facto alliance between two men - the father in law who victimized her, and the detective who utterly failed to warn her against him"

It's also a point to note that this is the first, perhaps only , story in which Holmes deals with the case entirely from Baker Street, never once leaving his rooms. He had told Watson at the beginning of A Study in Scarlet that he had cases like that - in fact, he intimated they were in the majority - but as the stories go on, hearing Holmes blab on about how he deduced this and worked that out would ultimately be boring and not make for a good story, so Doyle kicks him out of the house to go work for a living, giving him a lot more scope for actual adventure. And a good thing too.

Character Study

Mary Sutherland: Perhaps interesting that Doyle decides to name Holmes' second female client the same as the first. Mary was and is of course a popular and common name, but still. A woman completely controlled by her family, and especially her stepfather, Mary longs for a smidgeon of independence in her life, and grabs the chance with both hands when the mysterious Hosmer Angel appears. She is also a woman of determination, not willing to just forget about the man she loves who has vanished, and of virtue too, as she intends to remain true to him.

James Windibank/Hosmer Angel: In his alter ego as his stepdaughter's fiance (now there's a complicated menage-a-trois worthy of Jerry Springer!) he is quiet, retiring, secretive. He hides his eyes behind tinted glasses and speaks in a whisper, lest his daughter might recognise him. He types his letters, so that she can't see that his writing is that of her step-father. As Windibank, he is a selfish, arrogant and controlling man who has no intention of allowing his step-daughter's money to slip through his fingers, and with the support of his wife, sets out to make sure he can achieve his goal, no matter the heartbreak it brings to Mary. In the end, he is a coward, fleeing from Holmes' riding crop, unwilling to own up to and take responsibility for his actions.

Better than youN/A

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Mary Sutherland asks Holmes to find her fiance, who has vanished on the morning of their wedding. But it turns out to have been her step-father in disguise, trying to retain her money  by keeping her living in the house.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 4

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 11

Famous Firsts

Although he mentioned the word before, this is the first time he says anything close to "Elementary my dear Watson" (which he never says of course) when Holmes declares "All this is amusing, though rather elementary."

First case Holmes solves entirely from his living room in Baker Street

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Without question, a resounding NO. Mary Sutherland is left to wonder where her "Hosmer Angel" is, with no (so far as we are told) enlightenment from Holmes as to the true story, and in reality the stepfather gets away with his cruel plan. Nobody is satisfied, other perhaps than Holmes, and that's really more a self-gratification that he has solved the case. His disgust and anger towards Windibank, leading him to attempt to thrash him, really amounts to nothing. In terms of customer satisfaction, this case has to be registered as a failure.

Legal outcome, if any: None
:2stars:

Title: "The Boscombe Valley Mystery"
Year first published: 1891
Type: Short story
Chronology: 4th short story, 4th story in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 6th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Paddington; Boscombe Valley
Date: June 3 1890 (?)
The crime or the mystery: A man has been murdered down by the Boscombe Pool
The time (if given): 3pm


The Players
The client: None really; nobody engages Holmes - he is invited down by Lestrade
The victim(s): Charles McCarthy, tenant, formerly of Australia
The accused or suspected: James McCarthy, his son
The arrested: Same
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Lestrade
The advocate(s): Alice Turner, daughter of John and to be engaged to James
The real culprit(s): John Turner aka Black Jack of Ballarat, a wealthy landowner and former highway robber
Others: William Crowder, gamekeeper; Patience Moran, daughter of the lodge-keeper, a witness (but only to the argument, not the murder); John Cobb, Turner's groom

The clues: The call of "Cooee!", made by McCarthy's father before he even knew his son had returned from Bristol, the reference to a rat in the man's dying words, a grey coat or cloak which James McCarthy says he saw but which then vanished.
The red herring(s): The argument between father and son at the pool.
The breakthrough: hard to say but I think it might be when Holmes got the  map of Victoria and saw Ballarat.
The result: John Turner confesses to Holmes, but he is able to keep from having to inform the police, as he gets James off.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

That Watson's window is on the right-hand side.

Before the case

Nothing really. Watson is at home when he receives a telegram from Holmes asking him if he would accompany him to Boscombe Valley to investigate the mystery. Next thing they are both in a train heading for Herefordshire.

Synopsis:

Holmes and Watson travel to Herefordshire, where a man has been found murdered down by the Boscombe Pool. His name is Charles McCarthy, and by all accounts he was not liked, a man with a bad temper and a nasty attitude. His son, James, was seen arguing with him, and had a gun with him. He has been arrested as the prime suspect, although he protests his innocence. Holmes, reviewing the evidence, is inclined to believe him, but must prove it. His intended, Miss Turner, asks him to spare no effort, though Lestrade thinks it's wasted effort and that the case is as "plain as a pikestaff." Holmes is further encouraged in his attempts when he hears that McCarthy had been allowed to live on the farm rent-free, having been an associate of John Turner, who owns the land.

He also believes the call, "Cooee!", usually used by Australians (so Doyle says anyway) was not meant for McCarthy's son, who, as far as the father knew, was still away, in Bristol. So who was he calling? He wires to Bristol for a map of Victoria, and sees on it an area where there are mines, called Ballarat, and knows now that when the dying words of McCarthy were said to have been "a rat", he was trying to say, "Ballarat", to identify where his killer came from. Having pulled all his threads together, he calls John Turner to his room, and the man confesses. He tells Holmes how he had once been a highway robber in Australia, in Ballarat, and how he had come into contact with Charles McCarthy, who joined his gang.

When he had made his money and returned to England a landed gentleman, he tried to put his criminal past behind him, but sadly McCarthy caught up with him. He had fallen on hard times, and blackmailed Turner into giving him land, a house, all he wanted. But when he asked - demanded - that his boy marry Alice Turner, her father would have none of it. He did not know James, but if he was from the black root of his father then he didn't want him to have anything to do with his daughter. He met Charles at the pool to discuss it, saw him argue with his son, speak in lewd and dismissive terms of the woman it seemed James actually loved - Charles didn't care whether his son loved her or not, she was but a means to an end. He knew John was in poor health and due to die soon, so all he wanted was to inherit everything that was his, and through marriage of his son to Turner's daughter, he would have it.

When James had left, that was when Turner struck, coming up behind McCarthy before he knew he was there. He killed him, and was glad to have done it, to have saved his daughter. But now he was remorseful, when he saw that James was genuinely in love with Alice, and  more, that he was suspected of his father's murder. Holmes agrees to keep his secret, if James can be acquitted, for the sake of his daughter, whom he wishes to know nothing of his black past. In the end, through some skilful legal argument Holmes secures James' release, and though the old man dies seven months later, there is no case to answer and the murder is left as an open verdict.

After the case

Again, almost nothing. It's a very abrupt ending, which just catalogues vaguely that James McCarthy was acquitted, married Alice Turner and that her father died a few months later.

How the case is solved: Holmes wonders why McCarthy would call for his son, when he believes him to be away, and surmises that the man was waiting for someone else. When he gets the map of Victoria and sees Ballarat, he formulates his theory, using his usual method of checking footprints and so forth. His final clue comes when he hears how well McCarthy has been treated by Turner, and how arrogant the former is about it, as if it is his due. Then he knows McCarthy had something over Turner.

Comments:

A very good example, as Holmes mentions himself at the beginning, of an open and shut case being blown wide open. Everyone assumes James McCarthy to be the killer, and all evidence points to that, but once Holmes gets on the case it's clear that there is someone else involved. An example, too, of the police, then as now, not being too bothered about facts that don't fit their theory, as long as they get their man. The second story featuring a love element, though in "A Case of Identity" it was false love; here it is real. Another case, too, of the victim deserving his fate, as in A Study in Scarlet, where were are left in no doubt as to the despicable nature of the two men who have been killed, and can feel no sympathy for them. The third case involving murder, and the first of the short stories to do so.

However I have to take issue with the blackmail idea. Here we have a wealthy English gentleman who made his money in Australia something like thirty years ago, and he's worried that his ex-compatriot is going to sell him out? Let's just examine this for a moment. Turner does not say McCarthy joined his robber band, merely that he let him go. So how does he know he is Black Jack Ballarat? He's seen him once, and that decades ago. Surely Turner was not using his real name as a bandit, and even if he was - Jack or John Turner, it's hardly an unusual name is it? Surely there are plenty of  John, Jonathan, Jack and other Turners in England? How does he know this is the same man who robbed him in Australia? Come to that, how does he even know it was Black Jack who attacked the cart he was with? I'm sure the man never announced himself.

Anyway, all that aside, consider this. You have a man who is, by his own admission, next to a beggar, threatening to tell the police about events that occurred thirty or more years ago, outside of England, and for which he has no proof! Who is going to listen to him, never mind believe him? It's surely the word of one man against that of another, and in fact more than that: the word of a penniless nobody against a wealthy landowner. Who do you think the police are likely to believe, even if they give McCarthy's story the least credibility? Yes, they might be able to dig up evidence on Turner if they bother, but they're going to have to go back a long way and contact the authorities in Australia, and even then that's unlikely to yield positive results. Are they really going to squander police resources on a huge investigation of a member of the gentry on the unsubstantiated accusation of a pauper? As if.

So Turner should have had nothing to fear. Unless McCarthy had proof - which he may have had, but it's not mentioned - there's nothing he could have done. Approaching the police would probably have landed him in jail, with a swift kicking for impugning the good name of a landowner and wasting police time. There is no earthly way that I can see that a man like him would consider any sort of threat from McCarthy to be worth taking seriously. He should have told him to fuck off; the past was the past and he couldn't prove a thing, and let him go on his way. Then none of this would have happened. Of course, then there wouldn't have been a story. But Doyle could have tried harder; give McCarthy some solid proof, give some reason why the police would be interested in crimes that were not committed in England, and so long ago? On closer examination then, the whole premise of this story is frankly idiotic and not worthy of the writer we know Doyle to have been.

Character Study

James McCarthy: Perhaps rather oddly, given that the case revolves around him, we never meet the accused murderer. Holmes reports to Watson that he visits him in jail, but there is no narrative of this - always a little difficult when you're writing from a narrator's point of view; he or she can only report what they saw themselves, or what they are told of events they do not witness - and the only other real appearance by McCarthy the younger is in the newspaper report of the court proceedings. From what we can gather though, he is not at all like his father, and does indeed love Alice and wants to marry her (well, anyone who's in love has to be married almost immediately; witness Mary Sutherland, who, after ONE WALK with Hosmer Angel, is engaged!) but not for the reasons his father wants him to. He's also a practical man; having quarrelled with his father he is quite expecting to be accused of his murder. And he is.

Alice Turner: Again, not much is told of her, other than that she loves James McCarthy and will not believe that he has killed his father. It's strange how the two main characters feature so little in the story. There's a quick introduction to her when Holmes and Watson arrive at the farm, then nothing until she's offhandedly mentioned in a footnote at the end. Oh, there's her father's reference to her. But that's about it.

John Turner: Only comes in at the end, in a sort of Agatha Christie-like introduction as the murderer, and tells his story fairly quickly. Another link back to A Study in Scarlet, as the murderer dies before he can be brought to trial. Well, here he's never going to be brought to trial, but he dies anyway. A man who has made his living robbing and possibly killing people in Australia is able to reinvent himself back home, but finds his past follows him there, and he is trapped by it. He's a man with nothing to lose, due to die soon, and prepared to do anything to save his daughter. He does agree though that if James is found guilty he will own up. After all, how long will he last in prison?

Charles McCarthy: And this is the man we hear the least about. He is dead by the time we meet him, but we find out that he is a thoroughly horrible man, ready to throw his lot in with Black Jack of Ballarat and then blackmail him when he gets back to England. For some reason, unlike his partner, he does not make a success of himself back home, and, fallen far, uses John Turner/Black Jack to drag himself back up in the world. But that is not enough. Knowing of the old man's frailty and imminent passing, he intends to use his son's marriage to Alice to get the estate for himself. He doesn't care about his son, or the woman he loves, and he pays the price in the end. He does leave what mystery writers in the twentieth century would become fond of using, a dying clue, but nobody except Holmes considers it important.

Better than you

Having given Lestrade all the details about the murderer which he needs, Holmes is not at all surprised and quite amused when the inspector refuses to follow it up, saying he has not the time and anyway, he has the right man in a cell. Holmes shrugs and notes that he gave the detective the chance, but now he will unmask the killer himself. It no doubt gives him a certain frisson of pleasure to be able, not to take credit for the solution of the mystery, but to know that, had he taken his advice, Lestrade would have been able to do so himself. He makes a withering comment on the inspector's competence. When Lestrade says "I find it hard enough to tackle facts, Holmes, without flying away after theories and fancies!" Holmes remarks "You are right. You do find it very hard to tackle the facts." Proving his ignorance, Lestrade fails to catch the aspersion being cast on his ability.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

In Boscombe Valley in Herefordshire, James McCarthy is accused of killing his father. Holmes goes there to investigate, and discovers the real killer is the father of the woman he is in love with, who was being blackmailed by the dead man, and killed him to save his daughter from what he saw as a forced marriage which would have delivered his lands into the hands of his blackmailer.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 5

The Holmes Body Count

Direct:
Indirect: 1 (Charles McCarthy)
Incidental:
Historical:
Total: 1
Running total: 12

Famous Firsts

Satisfied customer(s)?

Very much so, yes. Alice, who, while not the client - there really is none - is delighted to have her fiance cleared of the charge, and indeed John Turner, who again did not hire Holmes, is also relieved not to be turned in. So it works out for all concerned.

Legal outcome, if any: James is released and all charges dropped
:3stars:

Title: "The Five Orange Pips"
Year first published: 1891
Type: Short story
Chronology: 5th short story, 5th in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 7th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street
Date: late September 1887
The crime or the mystery: The unexplained death of Colonel Openshaw
The time (if given): Late evening


The Players
The client: John Openshaw
The victim(s): Colonel Elias Openshaw, Joseph Openshaw, his brother; John Openshaw, Joseph's son
The accused or suspected: None; later it becomes clear it is the members of the Ku Klux Klan
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): None; no crime is seen to have been permitted, all deaths ruled accidental
The advocate(s): None, unless you count Holmes as an advocate for John Openshaw
The real culprit(s): Captain James Calhoun and others of the KKK
Others: Mr. Fordham, the Colonel's lawyer, who witnesses his will; Major Freebody, a friend of Joseph Openshaw, the last man to see him alive;

The clues: Five died orange pips sent in an envelope marked KKK; Colonel Openshaw's involvement with the KKK, his aversion to blacks, his time spent in Florida, his dislike of the Emancipation Proclamation; his fighting in the Civil War on the side of the Confederacy.
The red herring(s): None
The breakthrough: Kind of not really any. Holmes almost immediately recognises what's going on, but is unable to prevent events taking their course.
The result: Holmes fails for the first time.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

That John Openshaw has come up from the southwest.

Before the case

It is, if you will excuse the cliche, a wild and stormy night, and Holmes is amusing himself by sorting and cataloguing his old case files, while Watson reads a novel. Watson is staying temporarily in Baker Street while his wife visits her mother. It is against this backdrop that they then receive a visit from John Openshaw, and the case begins.

Synopsis:

On a bitter and cold, rainy night, as storms lash London and both Holmes and Watson are happy to be indoors, a John Openshaw arrives to ask Holmes' advice and help. He tells him of his uncle, Colonel Elias Openshaw, who spent much time in America and fought during the Civil War for the South. When he returned to England, disgusted at the Emancipation Proclamation adn the defeat of the Confederacy, he took his nephew, John, who now tells the tale, into his house and basically treated him like his own son. One day he received a letter from India, an envelope which contained only five dried orange pips and the letters KKK. Seeing this, Colonel Openshaw turned pale, and for the next eight weeks kept even more to himself than he had done - never a gregarious man - drank more and regularly made forays out into the garden with his gun, as if expecting an attack.

Then he was found dead, face down in a pool in his garden. His death was ruled as suicide, but John could not believe it. The estate passed to John's father, who received a similar note, demanding the return of papers which his brother had already burned. When the instructions were not followed, Joseph Openshaw found himself lying in a chalk pit with a broken skull. His death, too, was ruled as a suicide. Now John himself has received a letter, and though he went to the police they treated it as a practical joke. Holmes is furious, seeing it as no such thing, in fact as something deadly serious and life-threatening. John shows him a piece of paper he found in the grate in the room where his uncle had burned the papers that seem to be wanted back so badly. It reads

4th. Hudson came. Same old platform. 7th. Set the pips on McCauley, Paramore, and John Swain, of St. Augustine. 9th. McCauley cleared. 10th. John Swain cleared. 12th. Visited Paramore. All well.

Holmes assumes this to be a list of some sort, a record of people who have been sent the letter and the results of these. He sends Openshaw home, with strict instructions to put this piece of paper on the sundial with a note to say all other papers were burned by his uncle. He is however too late, as the next day news comes that Openshaw too has been killed, and his death believed a suicide. Holmes swears revenge. He has deduced that the messages come from a ship, that it is a sailing ship and is in London at the moment. Angered by the death of the young man, his pride stung that he has been bested (which he admits is a petty thing, but true nevertheless), and feeling that he essentially sent John away to his death, Holmes spends that day tracking the culprits down. Using Lloyds List, he searches for any large sailing ships which might have come from America. As one is called Lone Star, and has also been in Dundee, where the letter was sent to John's father, this, he is sure, is the ship. Now he has the name of the leader, a Captain James Calhoun, and he sends him an envelope with five orange pips and the words "S.H for J.O".

In the event, this never reaches Calhoun as the ship he is on founders in bad weather, and so Holmes must cede his vengeance to that of a higher judge.

After the case

Nothing. Nothing at all. A very abrupt, downbeat ending in which Holmes is deprived of bringing the members of the Klan to justice, as their ship is lost at sea.

How the case is solved: Since the words KKK are on the flap of the envelope, and orange pips used as a warning, Holmes knows the Ku Klux Klan is involved. As Colonel Openshaw is know to have left America in a hurry, he deduces that the colonel left as someone was after him. The extract from the register John shows him confirms that other warnings have been sent, and as described above, he locates the ship and attempts to bring the men to justice, but is thwarted when the vessel sinks at sea in bad weather with all hands.

Comments:

Whether it's wise, whether or not he has learned his lesson with the Mormons, again we have Doyle sticking his nose into American politics. While there is no question that the KKK are an evil bunch of bigoted racist bastards, you do have to wonder, given how little it's been proven he knew about the Mormons in reality, how much he knows about the Ku Klux Klan, and I wonder too if there was any blowback from them? If Doyle was trying to make a name for himself as an author in America, particularly in the south, would this have gone down well? It's possible it would have, as he doesn't make any specific accusations against the KKK or take sides. I'm not saying by any means he condones their actions, and Holmes certainly is out for revenge, but is it because of the KKK itself? No. It's because they murdered his client.

So, do we know if Doyle, or Holmes, is or was racist? Well, being an Englishman in the 19th century who saw action in the Second Boer War, if only as a doctor, you might think so. Holmes certainly presents an image of the classic superior, sexist, bigoted upper-class Englishman, though he's never accused of racism, but you would wonder what his actual views on the KKK are, prior to this incident?

The story represents a double failure for Holmes, perhaps his first. He fails to serve his client, fails indeed to save him, and fails utterly in his attempt to bring the perpetrators to book. Of course, the latter is not his fault, and events are taken out of his hands; had the ship not gone down in the storm then the letter would have been received on the Lone Star's return to Georgia, and the police might have apprehended them.  But then, they might not. This is a mere twenty years after the end of the Civil War, and we're talking about the southern states here, and indeed one of the most fiercely southern, a real slave state. So perhaps - likely, in fact - they would protect the captain and his men, tacitly endorse their actions and refuse or find a way to block any sort of extradition. It's my belief that they would never have been brought to justice, these men, and it's possible Doyle realised this, which could be why he allowed the hand of God to deal with them. He might also have been concerned about a poor reaction if the men had been extradited to England and imprisoned or even hanged.

Of the stories so far, this is by far the most downbeat. There's not a hint of humour or comic relief, and the scene, tone and mood is set right from the beginning with the description of the weather, and a dark sense of foreboding all through it. It's the second story in which Holmes hardly ventures outside of the flat to investigate and solve the case; the only time he goes out is to look at the Lloyds List and to quiz people down at the docks. Again, on a very basic level, you'd have to say this comes across as a very anti-American story, though it is of course more against the Ku Klux Klan than America itself.

Character Study

Colonel Elias Openshaw: Emigrated in his youth to Florida, got involved in the Civil War fighting for the South. Unlike many English gentlemen who bear a military rank, his is not from the British Army but the American Confederate one. It's clear he fell in with the KKK and their ilk, as John relates his "aversion to the negro", which would have made him ideal recruitment material for those sick bastards. But then he appears to have fallen out with them, stolen something they valued highly - their memoranda and notes about those they have oppressed, it would seem - and had to flee the USA. Arriving home, he became - if he was not already - an irascible, isolated, unfriendly man who wanted nothing to do with anyone else. He took a shine to John though and made him all but his own son, and when the letter arrives he meets it with a mixture of terror and dumb bravado, the latter illustrated by his rushing out into the garden with his gun to face unseen assailants.

He must be a man of strong convictions though, or else he realises that either what is in the papers they demand back would damage him personally, or would at at rate be dangerous to return, and he refuses to do as he is bid. He in fact ensures that even if he is killed (as he is) nobody will ever be able to restore the papers to the society, as he burns them. This, then, creates serious problems for his brother when it comes to his turn, as he has no idea what these papers are, and as a consequence is killed also. As is his own son, John. You can't help but think that the colonel could have avoided the deaths of what amounts now to all of his family (as John is not said to have been married, and there is no mention of Joseph's wife or any other children) had he just done as he was bid. But it seems either he realised the value of the papers and the danger of them being restored to the KKK, or, which is more likely, he was not about to let anyone push him around.

Joseph Openshaw: Brother to Elias, we don't hear too much about him. He is merely the vehicle by which the KKK's vendetta is carried on. They don't know him, but they assume he has the papers, since his brother, it can be safely imagined, passed them on to him, and so when he gets the message he laughs at it, unaware of its dire importance and danger, and refuses to go to the police, also forbidding his son to take any action. He pays the price too.

John Openshaw: The final member, it would seem, of the Openshaw family, he has been dreading the receipt of the letter too, but it has been some time now, and when he gets it he does not know where to turn. Although it seems everyone does, not everyone is aware of Sherlock Holmes, and he has never heard of him until he is recommended to his service by a friend. By now it is already too late: although John has a small fragment of the papers which was not burned - unlikely to satisfy the KKK anyway - he is killed before he can do as Holmes instructs him to, advising the society that their papers are burned. Perhaps, had they stayed their hand, and seen this message, they might have believed that in the absence of any chance of getting back the papers, their destruction might accomplish the same end.

Better than you

Holmes demonstrates his contempt - outright, naked contempt - for the police here (though this time, it's just the force in general; no official is named) when John tells him that they will not believe his story, and consider it to be a practical joke. He lambasts them again when John reveals that though they  - no doubt reluctantly and with many twirlings of the finger at the temple when he is gone - provide him a constable for his protection, the man was instructed to remain at the house, thus leaving John in mortal danger when he leaves it, danger he succumbs to when he heads for home. Had the police taken him at his word, Holmes knows, and had they worked with him, together they might have saved the young man's life and identified a conspiracy of terror which, even now, they are ignorant of, and likely to remain so.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

After his uncle and father receive a strange letter with the words KKK and five dried orange pips, both men dying in mysterious circumstances, John Openshaw seeks Holmes' help. Holmes realises KKK stands for Ku Klux Klan, and that John's life is in mortal danger, But before he can help him, John too is killed, and Holmes, though he tracks down the culprits, is unable to exact revenge before their ship is lost at sea. Holmes is crushed by his failure.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 1 (Captain James Calhoun*)
Running total: 6

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1 (John Openshaw)
Indirect: 1 (Captain James Calhoun) **
Incidental:
Historical: 2 (Colonel Elias and Joseph Openshaw)
Total: 4
Running total: 15

Famous Firsts

I think it's fair to mark this as Holmes' first real failure. Although he solves the crime he does not manage to save John Openshaw and in effect all but sends him to his death.This makes it also the first - and only one of two - stories in which Holmes is unable to prevent the death of his client.  If he had at least insisted he spend the night at Baker Street then maybe things might have turned out differently. You can't necessarily say he was beaten by the KKK, but he certainly did not beat them. So it's a dark chapter in his career, and not the last.

I do like this though. It makes Holmes more human, less of a machine, no Superman. Like anyone, he can get it wrong, he can miscalculate, he can fail and his plans can come to nothing. It's good to know he's not a super-sleuth machine that is always right, as if he were, it would quickly become boring, patronising and predictable. The fact that he can fail sets us up to wonder each time whether or not he will triumph, and it's in that slight uncertainty, like wondering if a character in 24 or Spooks will actually be killed, that we gain our biggest enjoyment from the stories. Nobody wants a crime-solving godlike being who never fails. There's got to be something to connect him to the rest of us, to make us feel he's one of us. And when he fails, rather than think the smug bastard got what he deserved at last, Doyle's genius and talent is that he makes us feel sorry for the man. We really want him to win, but we're aware he may not always do.

Satisfied customer(s)?

Not in any way, shape or form. The client who comes looking for his help is killed, the police are not involved, and the guilty parties are dealt with in a much more Biblical way. Holmes identifies, but does not get, his men, and there is nothing to celebrate about this case at all, for anyone.

Legal outcome, if any: None (unless you believe in divine justice)

:3stars:

* Although Holmes fails to bring Calhoun to justice, he does identify him and set him up for capture. It's only that fate intervenes by having him die at sea, so technically I include this man on his list.

** Although Holmes mentioned that he believed there were more people in the gang, we don't know how many, who they were, or if they were all on the ship, and as Calhoun is the only one he positively identifies, he is the only one we can include.[/b]

Title: "The Man with the Twisted Lip"
Year first published: 1891
Type: Short story
Chronology: 6th short story, 6th in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 8th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Watson's home (address unknown); The Bar of Gold, Upper Swandam Lane; The Cedars, Lee, Kent;  Bow Street Police Station; Baker Street
Date: June 19 1889
The crime or the mystery: The disappearance of one Neville St. Clair, last seen in an opium den
The time (if given): Some time late in the night

The Players
The client: Mrs. St. Clair
The victim(s): Neville St. Clair
The accused or suspected: Hugh Boone, a cripple and beggar
The arrested: Same
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Bradstreet
The advocate(s): Holmes
The real culprit(s): None
Others: Isa Whitney, opium addict; Kate Whitney, his wife;

The clues: A box of toy bricks, which Mr. St. Clair had been bringing home for his son; blood on the windowsill; St. Clair's clothes - other than his coat - found in the room
The red herring(s): None, other than there being the belief that a murder has been committed,when no such thing has in fact occurred.
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: An old opium addict
The breakthrough: Seems to have come to  Holmes in a night of smoking and not sleeping
The result: St. Clair and Hugh Boone are unmasked as being one and the same, and with no crime therefore committed, he is let go, after having given an undertaking that his begging days are over.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case: None

Before the case

As Holmes himself would say, a most singular beginning! For the first time ever, other than obviously the very first story, i.e. the novel A Study in Scarlet, the action does not begin either at Baker Street nor with Holmes. The opening scene concerns a visit to Watson by a lady of his wife's acquaintance, in desperation to rescue her opium-addicted husband from the opium den, and it's only when Watson goes there, brings the man out and recognises Holmes there, that the real mystery kicks off.

Synopsis:

In the course of retrieving his friend from an opium den, Watson runs into Holmes, who is there in disguise. He is following up a case in which a man was seen at the window of the den by his wife, then vanished suddenly. When she managed to force entry to the den, in company with the police, no sign of her husband could be found. There was only an old crippled beggar by the name of Hugh Boone there, but the box of toy bricks her husband had promised to bring home to her son was there. The police - and Holmes - fear that Mr. St. Clair was robbed and his body thrown out the window into the river below. His coat is found when the tide recedes, weighted down with hundreds of coins, but no sign of the body.

Watson joins Holmes at his invitation, having sent his opium-addled friend home, and together they travel to Lee in Kent, where St. Clair's wife, who has engaged his services and given him rooms in her house while he conducts the investigation, awaits. When she asks him to be frank with her and answer whether he thinks her husband is alive and he says no, he does not, she triumphantly produces a letter he wrote and which she has only received today. Holmes is thunderstruck, and his theories go out the window. But now, a new one is forming.

He takes Watson to the jail, where Hugh Boone is being held. He cleans up his face and there beneath all the dirt and the scar which twisted the man's lip is - Mr. Neville St. Clair! A disguise! The beggar and St. Clair are one and the same. His ruse uncovered, St. Clair explains that he had been making a living as a beggar, a living at which he says he could make more than at his own job, but in order to keep this from his wife, he had had to disguise himself. This also helped elicit sympathy from passers-by, which often translated into coins. He used to change from his city clothes into his beggar's outfit at the opium den, and it just so happened that his wife was on business in that part of the city and saw him. He immediately moved away from the window, and quickly hid all his clothes, changed into his beggar outfit so as not to be discovered, and found himself arrested for the suspected murder of himself.

After the case

Nothing at all.

How the case is solved:

With all the clues to hand, it suddenly comes to Holmes and he realises that Hugh Boone is Neville St. Clair. He does not, which is unlike him, go on at length afterwards to Watson, explaining how he came to his conclusion.

Comments:

On the face of it, a clever little story concerning a secret identity, but I find it hard to believe. While Doyle does ensure he goes out of his way to stress that he is not in any manner suggesting that all beggars make as much as Boone/St. Clair does, it's still a little unlikely at best. If you count the amount of people who give to beggars, then as now, you might have one in ten, maybe one in twenty who will drop an offering into a hat, and usually the smallest they have. To claim St. Clair could make twenty-six shillings (over £100 today) in a day purely by appealing to people's charity is really stretching it I feel. No matter how generous people are, that seems a huge sum to make.

Even though he says that he elicited sympathy by making up his face well, having once been an actor, I'm not convinced, And not only that: don't beggars stake out spots and then protect them? For a "newbie" to come in and suddenly start taking all the business would surely arouse the ire of the real, longtime beggars, who might set about him. Not to mention, why the elaborate subterfuge when his wife discovered him? Would it not have been easier to have descended - since he was already dressed in his "civvies" - and make up some story about, I don't know, calling in to see a friend or collecting a debt or looking for directions or, hell, anything? Anything to explain his presence in the den? Instead, he chooses to weave the most complicated web of lies and intrigue, inviting the investigation not only of the police but of Holmes too. How did he think this was going to end? And why did he throw out his coat? Well, I suppose so that it wouldn't be recognised and connected to him.

Overall, though clever, a hard story to swallow and there are many, many holes to be picked in it. I wonder if Doyle properly researched what a beggar makes on the street? No matter his skill, I can't see how it would buy him a new house and a fine new lifestyle, and in ways - though I'm sure not intentional - he kind of trivialises the desperate plight of beggars in London by suggesting that such an occupation could be profitable to one who wished to exploit it. I don't imagine many beggars got to read his story, but any who heard it must have been fuming at the treatment of their "profession". Still, I guess it's easier to laugh at a social injustice, an evil of society, a problem prevalent on the streets of London, than attempt to do anything about it. I hope he made a large contribution to all the local beggars after this was published.

Character Study

Hugh Boone/Neville St. Clair: A man who began as an actor, where he learned the secrets of applying make-up, and then turned this to his advantage when he had to go undercover as a beggar for his newspaper when he became a reporter. St. Clair made, apparently, so much in his beggar guise that he decided to take it up full time, and built a secret career on it. I'm not sure how he thought he would maintain such a secret forever. At heart though he does not seem to be a bad man, and is well-liked, but he could do with a little more common sense.

Better than you

Again Holmes shows the local police how much cleverer than them he is, as he reveals the disguise St. Clair is wearing, and shows them that they have in their cells the very man who is accused of his own murder. To be fair, Bradstreet reacts with good humour to this revelation, but then, who could have known?

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

A woman engages Holmes to find her missing husband, last seen in an opium den. It turns out that he was using the den to change into a beggar's costume, which he had been using for years to earn a living as a beggar.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 6

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 15

Famous Firsts

The first Holmes story which does not begin with Holmes, or indeed in Baker Street (the famous residence is in fact only mentioned at the end, in the final sentence, as a destination).

The first (and only, I assume) time Watson is called James by his wife, when his name is John. Guess even the greats get it wrong once in a while.

The first time Holmes gets it totally wrong, though he makes amends by solving the case with his customary flair. But at first, he's convinced that Mr. St. Clair is dead, and the production by the man's wife of a letter proving he is very much alive knocks Holmes, as the English are fond of saying, for six.

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Very much so. St. Clair's wife gets her husband back and St. Clair himself is able to preserve his secret.

Legal outcome (if any): None, as there has been no crime committed.

:2stars:

Title: "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle"
Year first published: 1892
Type: Short story
Chronology: 7th short story, seventh in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 9th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Tottenham Court Road; Goodge Street; Alpha Inn, Bloomsbury; Covent Garden; Brixton Road; Kilburn
Date: December 27 1889
The crime or the mystery: Initially simply the tracing of the owner of a hat, leading to the discovery of the whereabouts of a hugely expensive jewel that has been robbed
The time (if given): Morning

The Players
The client: None
The victim(s): The Countess of Morcar
The accused or suspected: John Horner (seriously? Jack Horner?), a plumber
The arrested: Same
The investigating officer(s): inspector Bradstreet
The advocate(s): None
The real culprit(s): James Ryder, attendant at the hotel
Others: Peterson, commissionaire; Catherine Cusack, maid to the Countess; Henry Baker, owner of the hat and goose but otherwise completely incidental to the story; Breckinridge, seller of geese; Maggie Oakshott, goose farmer, sister to Ryder

The clues: None as such; the gem being inside the goose is the only real clue that Holmes has, and the knowledge that it was stolen from the Countess. All his other information he gleans from the account of the arrest of John Horner.
The red herring(s): None
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: Sort of luck in a way, though they already had the name of Mrs. Oakshott and were going to go there the next day. That might not have yielded anything though, as she knew nothing of the theft, and may or may not have mentioned that James Ryder was her brother. So it's mostly chance that Ryder happens to turn up looking for the goose when Holmes and Watson are there.
The result: The jewel is returned - presumably - to the Countess, and the innocent man is freed, and possibly, one who might have gone bad is saved from a life of crime.

Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

(I'm stretching this a little, as the hat does impinge upon the case, but as the case, as such, has not yet begun and the hat is merely a device for Holmes to reunite it with its owner, and thus allow the case to begin, I'm going to allow it.)

That the owner is an intellectual man, that he has cut his hair recently, that his wife no longer loves him; that he does not have gas in his house, uses lime in his hair and has fallen on hard times; that he is a sedentary man and does not go out much and that he had foresight but has lost it.

Before the case

Watson calls on Holmes to wish him a Happy Christmas, and finds him studying an old and battered hat, which has been handed in to him by Peterson the commissionaire. He in turn picked it up when it fell off a man carrying a goose, who had got into a row and then run off, dropping the goose. Holmes is trying to ascertain all he can about its owner, in order to, if possible, not only return the hat but also make good on the loss of the goose to the man.

Synopsis:

As Holmes goes through his deductions, he and Watson are interrupted by the frantic and sudden arrival of Peterson, who shows him what his wife found while preparing the goose for dinner. A blue carbuncle, in fact, the blue carbuncle, known to have been stolen from the hotel room of the Countess of  Morcar only five days ago!

Suddenly, things are much more serious. Holmes remembers that a plumber who was doing work in Her Ladyship's room at the time was accused of stealing the gem, and arrested. Having placed an advertisement in the paper for the owner of the hat and goose to contact him, Holmes meets Mr. Henry Baker, who he is quite convinced is an innocent party. Reunited with his hat, and with a new goose which Holmes has bought to replace the one they ate, he turns his attention to where the goose has come from. Baker directs them to the Alpha Inn, where a Mr. Windigate (what is it with Doyle and the word Windi in names?) runs a goose club for Christmas. Holmes goes to the pub and finds out who sold the geese to Windibank, but the salesman in Covent Garden is not ready to tell. Holmes tricks him by making a wager with him, which he loses, but gains the information he seeks. He also learns he is not the only one enquiring about the geese, which is certainly interesting.

While he is still a short distance off from the stall another man comes asking about the geese, and the two of them shadow him but he sees them and demands to know who they are and what they want. Turns out he's James Ryder, the hotel attendant who put the police onto Jack, sorry John Horner. Holmes assures him he can help him and they all go back to Baker Street, where Holmes shows him the jewel and advises him the game is up, perhaps an unfortunate choice of words, given the, ah, method of hiding the carbuncle. He throws himself on Holmes' mercy, and the detective demands he tell him the full story of how the carbuncle came to be in the goose.

He relates how, after he had stolen the gem and framed Horner for the theft, he ran to his sister's farm, where he had an idea. He had been told by her that he could have a goose for Christmas as a present, and grabbed one, shoving the jewel down its throat while she was inside. The goose though, spooked, broke away from him and rejoined the flock. When he had it killed he took it with him to his friend in Kilburn, who cut it open and to the amazement of both, no gem! Wrong goose! Back he went to his sister's to rectify the error, but she had already sent the rest of the geese off to Breckinridge, who sold them to Windigate, who then sold the one Ryder wanted, by chance, to Henry Baker, who lost it in the struggle in which he also lost his hat, and by which means it came into the possession of Sherlock Holmes.

Seeing that the man is remorseful, and that the case against Horner will collapse if, as he promises, he will not stand as a witness, and seeing as it is the season of goodwill, Holmes throws Ryder out without reporting him to the police.

After the case

Nothing, again. Holmes and Watson sit down to eat their Christmas goose, and Holmes reflects that he may have saved a man from turning to crime.

How the case is solved: Mostly through a stroke of luck. Holmes has managed to trace the seller of the goose to the Brixton Road, but the appearance of James Ryder at the stall gives him the chance to get the full story out of the man. So the case is not solved through trickery or guile or intrigue; he's basically told how it was done by the man what done it, so to speak.

Comments:

A clever and cute little Christmas story, which, given it was first published in January, was probably written in December, and has a nice little cheerful Christmas ending to it. On the face of it, it's the story of a theft and the attempt to throw suspicion on an innocent man, but it's handled more light-heartedly by Doyle; even the thief is allowed go free, something Holmes has done before, and will do again, but usually because either there is no recourse to the law he can take or the culprit arouses his sympathies. Seldom, if ever, does he let his man go on purely altruistic grounds when he does not agree with what he has done, as here.

This story shows how devious Holmes can be, as when his usual method of gaining information, particularly from someone who seems not to know who he is - you would imagine that by now his fame has spread all across England, never mind London - fail him, he resorts to trickery, by making the stall owner think he has bested him in a bet. As he says, a man will advance far more information if he thinks he has the upper hand on you than if you seem to really want the information. This he has said before, in a slightly different context: the less you seem to want the information, the less interested you make yourself appear, the easier it is to get that information.

I don't remember if this is the only Christmas Holmes story, but I think it is, and it's one in which there is not a single mention of Mrs. Hudson, although she's not featured in every story by any means. It's also, since he has now recovered the blue carbuncle belonging to the Countess of Morcar, the second time he has helped the nobility in one of his adventures.

I do however have a question: had Doyle researched the feeding habits of geese? Because I personally feel that a) shoving a gem down a goose's throat is not only dangerous to he who forces it down - geese are well known for their ferocity when roused to action - but surely dangerous to the goose, who might choke? Not to mention that b) given the above, isn't it likely the bird would spit or at best crap it out before it could be killed? Ryder force-fed the goose a day previous; by the time he returns it should have passed it. Or died. I find this at best a doubtful premise, but hey, it was Christmas and I guess the story is not meant to be taken too seriously. Everyone's entitled to their bit of fun at the festive season.

Character Study

There's not, to be fair, much to study here. It's a story almost without characters, a purely detection one, so there are really only the very vaguest sketches. The only one I can really look at is
James Ryder: Hotel attendant at the Cosmopolitan Hotel, he sees the Countess's jewel and on impulse decides to take it. Interestingly, no motive is given for the theft. He is not said to be in debt, he does not take it for someone else, he is not a thief by trade. Why he should risk both his position and his freedom in one moment of madness is, to be blunt, odd, and it's never explained. Without any previous criminal record - in fact, John Horner, who is innocent of the crime, is recorded as having a conviction for robbery, which does not help his case - he decides to become a thief, and to take something belonging to a noblewoman, surely an action likely to bring down the very severest retribution upon him if he is discovered?

In the end, he proves a weak, scared little man who deeply regrets what he has done, and would surely last no time in jail were Holmes to turn him in. The detective remarks that if he were to be imprisoned Ryder would likely become a habitual criminal, a problem still prevalent today, but I disagree. I think he would wither in the prison environment and either hang himself or be done in by some other inmate. Either way, it's certain it would not end well for him. Since he has been let go by Holmes, we can assume he will be a changed man, however he was ruthless enough to frame another man for his crime, and to let him, if necessary, go to prison in his place, so we can't feel too well disposed towards him, despite his remorse.

Better than youN/A

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Holmes is brought a goose which has been dropped by a man in the midst of a fight, Inside the goose is the stolen gem belonging to the Countess of Morcar. After following up the path of sale, he chances upon the thief, finds out how he had hidden the jewel inside the goose, and with the gem safely under lock and key, decides to give the guy a break and lets him go.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 6

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental:0
Historical:0
Total: 0
Running total: 15

Famous Firsts First almost comic, certainly humorous Holmes story, and one on which weighty matters do not really depend.

First Holmes story set at Christmas.

Satisfied Customer(s)? Doesn't really apply, as there is no client involved.

Self-referentials "A Scandal in Bohemia", "A Case of Identity", "The Man with the Twisted Lip"

Legal outcome (if any):  None

:2.5stars:

Title: "The Speckled Band"
Year first published: 1892
Type: Short Story
Chronology: 8th short story, 8th in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 10th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Doctors Commons; Waterloo; Leatherhead, Surrey; Stoke Moran, Surrey
Date: Early April 1883
The crime or the mystery: The mysterious death of Julia Stoner
The time (if given): 7:15 am


The Players
The client: Helen Stoner
The victim(s): Julia Stoner and, later, Dr. Roylott
The accused or suspected: Dr. Roylott
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): None
The advocate(s): Holmes
The real culprit(s): Dr. Grimesby Roylott
Others: Miss Honoria Westphail, the girls' aunt; Percy Armitage, Helen's fiance;

The clues: A whistling sound heard in the bedroom, a metal clanging noise; a bell-pull that does not work but appears to be newly-installed; the bed bolted to the floor; a ventilator that does not admit outside air; a saucer of milk on top of a safe  in Dr. Roylott's study; the lack of any real building works
The red herring(s): The gypsies
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes:
The breakthrough:
The result: Holmes beats back the snake, it returns to Roylott through the ventilator and bites him, killing him outright.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

That Miss Stoner has come up in a train and came to Baker Street in a dog cart along muddy roads.

Before the case

It begins with Holmes waking Watson up to call him down to take part in the case, early in the morning.

Synopsis:

Miss Helen Stoner arrives in a fluster to advise Holmes that she is at her wit's end. Her stepfather, Dr. Roylott, a man known to be violent, has already seen the untimely and mysterious death of her sister, Julia, two years ago, and now she, Helen, has been instructed to sleep in the same room as her late sister, due to some repairs being made to the house. Julia had mentioned, just prior to her death, hearing what sounded like a whistling noise, and on being found staggering out of her room, dying, had gasped "The speckled band!" though Helen does not have any idea what she meant. The previous night, having slept or at least lain in her sister's room, she too heard the sound, and bolted, leaving the house and coming by train directly up to Holmes for assistance.

Holmes listens as she outlines the character of her father. A brutal, uncompromising man, he has spent time in India, where he was tried for beating a servant to death, and narrowly avoided the gallows. Returning to England he brought exotic animals with him - a cheetah and a baboon - which he allows roam freely on the grounds of his estate. He picks fights with everyone, has little regard for his daughters - apart from local gypsies, whom he allows to camp on his land and with whom he appears to have some affiliation as he spends a lot of time with them. Each of the girls had an inheritance from their late mother, but due to their stepfather's brutish behaviour no servant would stay with them, so they were forced to do all the work in the house themselves. When Julia met a man and was to be married, her death occurred only two weeks afterwards.

The door to her room had been locked, as had been their habit due to the wandering wild pets their stepfather kept, and the windows were barred with thick shutters. Julia had told Helen she had heard the whistling noise, and a sort of metallic clang, every night for three nights before she died, and in her death-throes had pointed at their stepfather's room, but had expired before she could say anything else. No marks were found on her body, no evidence of poison, and her death remains a mystery. Now Helen too is engaged, and having  been forced to sleep in the same room, she fears for her life, having heard the same sounds, and so she is now sitting in Baker Street, hoping for some salvation at the hands of the master sleuth.

Holmes asks if they could come down to her house in Surrey to have a look around, and she says that by chance Dr. Roylott is away today, so they should be fine. Holmes says that he and Watson will see her there in the afternoon. She has only left when the Doctor himself bursts in, uninvited, raving, threatening Holmes about what happens to people who stick their noses into other people's business. Holmes laughs at him, and he storms out. The detective has now had a first-hand look at the man who will form the basis of his investigation into the death of Julia Stoner, and the possible threat to the life of her sister. He does not like what he sees, but is in no way cowed by the man.

Holmes goes to get a copy of Helen's mother's will, and determines from it that the loss of their inheritance in the event of marriage would have crippled Roylott, so he had good reason to prevent any such event. They arrive at Stoke Moran, Helen's home, and go over the house. Holmes notices that there seem to be no need for repairs to the outside walls, and Helen agrees, confirming that it was just an excuse to get her to move into Julia's room. In that room, Holmes notes many curious things. A ventilator that seems to go nowhere but the connecting room - her stepfather's - a new bell pull which, when he pulls it, does nothing, the bed bolted to the floor. He tests the shutters, confirming they are sturdy and cannot be broken through. He notes the bell pull is attached by a wire to the ventilator. In Roylott's room he sees a safe on top of which is a saucer of milk. Asking Helen if they have a cat, she answers in the negative, although there is the cheetah. He also notes a leash of some sort with a loop tied in it, and that there are marks upon the chair which bear witness to someone having stood on it.

He and Watson take rooms in the local inn to wait out the night, instructing Helen to wait until her stepfather is in his room and then sleep in her own room, and leave the shutters open in Julia's room so that they may enter when the coast is clear. Helen will signal that it is so by placing a lamp in the window. Once this is done, Holmes and Watson enter the room in the night and settle down to wait. Suddenly there is a clanging noise, and Holmes sees something coming through the vent and slithering down the bell pull towards the bed. Jumping up, he strikes at it with his cane, and the snake turns around and slides back into the vent, chased back from whence it came. There is a scream of pain, and when they check Roylott's room they find him dead, bitten by the snake, the "speckled band" still around his throat. Holmes deftly captures the serpent and returns it gingerly to the safe, slamming the door on it.

It's clear now that Roylott had murdered his first step-daughter by means of introducing the snake into her room via the ventilator. The snake had then used the dummy bell rope as a ladder to get down to the bed, where it eventually bit Julia. The serpent had visited her three times, as the murderous doctor could not be certain it would strike the first time, and would call it back by whistling for it, the reptile obviously trained by him to respond. Chased back towards him it had bitten the first thing it encountered, which happened to be Roylott, waiting to call it back.

Holmes notes that the deaths of the two girls would have ensured Roylott continued to have access to their inheritance, and that he had little or no love or regard for his step-daughters, thinking only of his own comfort and enrichment. He has now met the fate he so richly deserved, and Helen is saved.

After the case

Little other than an explanation, as below, by Holmes to Watson of his reasoning. Helen is conveyed to her aunt in Harrow, while the doctor's death is ruled as misadventure, due to his playing with a deadly snake. Holmes realises he has a death on his conscience, but admits he is not troubled: the bastard got all he deserved.

How the case is solved: Holmes had proceeded from an erroneous supposition, that the gypsies encamped in the grounds had something to do with Julia's death, but on confirming there was no way into the room at night he had modified his hypothesis. Seeing the bed bolted to the ground, he reasoned it was held that way so that it could not be moved, and that therefore it was important that it be in that particular place. The dummy bell rope gave him the clue that it might be used more as a rope down which something would or could descend, and the ventilator leading only to the doctor's room made it likely that whatever was to be introduced into the girl's room would come from there, via the ventilator. He already suspected a snake, and the idea that there was no poison found in Julia's body would tie in with Roylott's travels in India and his medical knowledge.

The whistling sound he had identified as the signal from the doctor to recall the snake before the morning light revealed it, and the milk would be the agency by which it would obey. The chair in his room, which showed signs of having been stood on, would be his aid in reaching the ventilator in order to drop the snake in. The metallic clang Julia had heard was the sound of the safe being closed after Roylott had returned the snake to it.

Comments:

I love this story. It's one of my favourites of the Holmes adventures, but I do see some flaws in it. For one thing, I'm not that au fait with the habits of snakes, but surely they need to breathe like any other creature? Would one survive in a safe, which is by definition sealed to protect its contents? The story does not mention any holes bored in it to let in air. Also, it does not say how the snake is fed. Milk is all very well, but that won't keep a snake healthy and full. I suppose Roylott could have fed it mice, though none are mentioned. The idea, too, of a cheetah running wild around the grounds of his estate seems to me to be at best unlikely, at worst impossible. Would the local constabulary not have an issue with a man-eating cat being loose in the village, even if confined to the grounds of the manor? And would such a creature not by now have killed someone or something? Can a cheetah and a baboon co-exist? Is it not likely the baboon would have ended up on the cheetah's menu? Were there any trees for the baboon to live in, this being its natural habitat?

Who fed the two animals, and with what? There were no servants, so did the doctor himself find raw meat to satisfy the hunger of the cheetah, and what, bananas? Nuts? Fruit? Something for the baboon? Why would gypsies dare to camp, even with Roylott's blessing, on grounds which were stalked by a big cat and a scary baboon? Superstitious people at the best of times, but apart from that, not completely without brains, would they have put themselves in peril for no other reason than to chat to the doctor? And what of Holmes and Watson? How come the cheetah did not detect humans running across the grounds and attack them, or at least chase them, raise the alarm? I suppose you can assume the animals have got used to Roylott, and maybe his step-daughters, though that does not stop the girls from making sure their doors are locked at night! Even so, casual visitors to the manor, official police presence (we know, as Helen tells Holmes, that the police have been called once or twice) would surely give the beasts prey to hunt?

The whole idea is so ludicrous that it almost spoils the story, which is a pity, as, like I say, this is one of my favourites. But the lack of attention to detail borders on the lazy and even the arrogant. And what of the gypsies? Why are they even there? We never meet even one, and they play no part at all in the story. Are they just there to provide a red herring for Holmes, when Watson conjectures that "speckled band" might refer to the bandanna their kind wear, or that even band might mean band of gypsies? If so, it's a poor red herring, as it adds nothing to the story and is quickly dismissed by Holmes.

The villain of the piece is, however, one worthy of Dickens, as we'll see when we get to the "Character Study" section below, and I would note that this is the fourth (third, if you lump Stangerson and Drebber from A Study in Scarlet together) murder victim - or at least death - which has been richly deserved and garners no sympathy at all. It is, I believe, the first time Holmes has received an actual bodily threat (the salesman in "The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle" was nasty to him but did not threaten actual violence against him) and the first time Holmes has shown that apart from having a razor-sharp mind, he has muscles too, as he bends the poker Roylott has disfigured back into place. Whether or not this is a surprise to Watson is not recorded.

Although this was written in 1892, and therefore comes chronologically after the other stories in the volume, I find it odd that Watson is staying with Holmes, and there is no mention of his wife. Is this meant to take place before the events of The Sign of the Four? Checking the date of that adventure, I see it is, five years in fact before Watson meets Mary. Interesting. So Doyle was not averse to writing the stories out of historical chronology if it suited his purposes. This is also one of the few stories so far in which there is no police investigation; the official force are only notified - and then, only the county police, not Scotland Yard - by Holmes after he has concluded his own investigation, and he does not give them the full details. Why, I'm not sure: would it not be better to have Roylott seen for the murderer he was? But then, I suppose Holmes might, at a stretch, be open to a charge of manslaughter; after all, he did force the poisonous snake back into the room it had come from, knowing the doctor was in there. I doubt such a charge would have stuck, though.

This is the first in what will become a small series of what are known, or became known as "locked room mysteries". I don't know if Doyle invented this form - other mystery writers may use it all the time; I'm not necessarily a fan of mystery fiction - but they do seem to be mostly associated with Holmes. The idea, of course, is that a crime is committed within a locked room or space, allowing no possibility that the murderer could have entered from without, and so deepening the mystery.

Character Study

Helen Stoner: Considering she is one of the major characters, we don't get too much information about her. She is brave and has a head on her shoulders, realising once she hears the whistling sound that she can't stay in the room, and goes to seek Holmes' help. She is abused by her step-father, but has the filial loyalty not to want Holmes to know. She is fairly industrious, as was presumably her sister, as they both had to do everything for themselves. She has, or had, a strong mental link with Julia, who was her twin; when Julia was afraid in the room Helen felt it too.

Dr. Grimesby Roylott: A nasty and violent man, we're told his wife died in a train accident, but I would personally wonder if he had anything to do with it? At any rate, he lived in India where his temper got him into trouble, and nearly the rope, which would have saved everyone a great deal of pain and prevented the death of one of his daughters. He's a man who is willing to selfishly sacrifice everything, including his step-daughters' lives, just so as to keep his hands on their money. He's a brute and though he comes from upper-class stock is feared and loathed around the village. His friendship with the gypsies is an anomaly; I have no idea why he associates with them, or why he tolerates them when he hates everyone else. He's clearly one of those entitled Englishmen who think it's okay to bring their own little piece of India home with them, which he does in the shape of the animals he imports and lets run loose. He is a powerful and well-built man, as evidenced when he bends Holmes' poker in an effort to intimidate him, but not well informed, as Holmes remarks when he has left, as he thinks Holmes works for Scotland Yard.

Better than you N/A

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Helen Stoner fears the same fate as befell her sister two years earlier, and comes to Holmes for help. Though warned off by her step-father, Holmes and Watson go to the house and through a series of deductions work out that the doctor has a snake in his room, which he used to causing the sister's death, and which he now intends to put into Helen's room to get rid of her, as she plans to marry, which would upset his finances. Holmes knocks the snake back into the step-father's room, where it bites him, killing him instantly.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 6

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1 (Dr. Grimseby Roylott)
Indirect:
Incidental:
Historical: 1 (Julia Stoner)
Total: 2
Running total: 17

Famous Firsts

First time Holmes directly causes a death.

First "locked-room mystery" story.

First time Holmes is mistakenly linked with Scotland Yard.

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Yes, indeed. Helen Stoner's life is saved and she is released from the cruel attentions of her murderous step-father. What better ending could there be?

Self-referentials

Legal outcome (if any): None
:4.5stars:

Title: "The Engineer's Thumb"
Year first published: 1892
Type: Short Story
Chronology: 9th short story, 9th in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 11th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Watson's Practice; Baker Street; Paddington; Reading; Eyford, Berkshire
Date: Summer 1889
The crime or the mystery: No mystery really; it's a straight-forward attempt to catch a gang of counterfeiters, which fails.
The time (if given): 7:00 am or just before

The Players
The client: Victor Hatherley, an engineer
The victim(s): Same
The accused or suspected: Colonel Lysander Stark/Fritz; Mr. Ferguson
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Bradstreet
The advocate(s): None
The real culprit(s): Colonel Lysander Stark/Fritz; Mr. Ferguson
Others: Elise, a woman in the house who helps Hatherley

The clues: None really; Stark's actions show they were counterfeiting coins
The red herring(s): None
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: Again, none really
The result: The criminals get away


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case: None

Before the case

The client comes to see Watson with a cut-off thumb, and when he tells the doctor his story Watson brings him to see Holmes at Baker Street.

Synopsis:

One morning Watson is woken to attend to an early morning client who has come up on the train. The man is an engineer, and shows the doctor that he has lost his thumb; it has been hacked off and he has bound it as best he can before coming up to see him. Having heard his story and how he wonders if the police will believe him, Watson takes him to see Holmes. There he pours out the story, how he had set up in practice for hismelf as an engineer, but business was slow, when yesterday a man called Colonel Lysander Stark appeared in his office, with an offer of a job. He wanted him to look at a hydraulic stamping machine that had got out of gear, and as Hatherley is an engineer, this seemed in his line. He also offered to pay handsomely, both for the work and in exchange for the engineer discussing his commission with nobody. Absolute secrecy, warned the colonel, was of the utmost importance, and he secured a promise from Hatherley to that effect.

He said he must come by train to Eyford in Berkshire that night, that the work must be carried out under cover of darkness to preserve the secret. He told the engineer he and some friends were trying to mine fullers-earth from his field, and the press they had been using had broken down. So Hatherley did as he was asked, and was met at the station by Stark and taken to a dark house, where a woman met them. Hatherley tells Holmes that he had the impression both were German, and when Stark went off to check something and left he and the woman together, she tried to warn him in broken English, but though he was uneasy about the whole deal now, he didn't quite understand the danger he was in, and anyway it was a long way back to the station, to say nothing of the fact that he had no clue where he was now.

A moment later Stark returned with another man whom he called Ferguson, and took Hatherley to the machine, which was the size of a room, so much so that the roof was the lower part of the piston. After examining it and explaining what the problem was, and how it could be fixed, Hatherley then returned to the room to re-examine the floor, whereupon the Colonel, returning, and angry at his intrusion, slammed the door on him and trapped him in the press, which he then turned on. It was only the merest good luck that he managed to escape, and ran for it. The woman he had seen then appeared, led him to a bedroom from which he could drop to the ground and escape, but as he did, Stark entered with an axe, and chopped at his hand as he hung from the ledge, severing his thumb and causing him to lose his grip and fall. He lost consciousness.

When he awoke he was away from the house, in fact by a hedge near the railway station at which he had arrived. Anxious to get away, he waited there for the first train of the morning and then came up to London, where he was recommended to Watson, who then brought him to see Holmes. Having listened to his story, Holmes shows him he is not the first who has fallen foul of the murderous "colonel": an advertisement he has kept begs for news on another engineer who went missing. Holmes has worked out that the gang are coiners, making counterfeit money, and he enlists the help of Inspector Bradstreet when he and Watson and Hatherley return to Eyford, but they find the place on fire and the criminals gone.

After the case

Nothing really. Evidence surfaces to show that it must have been the woman, Elise, and Mr. Ferguson who carried Hatherley to safety away from the house, probably at her instigation, lest he be killed by the so-called colonel. It's also construed that the fire was due to Hatherley's oil lamp, which he had dropped when being trapped inside the press, setting fire to the wooden walls of the room.

How the case is solved: It's not really, to be fair. There's no real mystery here.

Comments:

An unusual story. Doyle gives us no mystery for Holmes to solve, and really it's more in the way of an adventure, but in flashback, one which does not involve Holmes at all. It's probably one of the stories which features him the least; he's a passive listener really, and even when he musters the troops to go after the forgers he is too late, so you'd have to say on the face of it this is a pretty impotent case for him. It's also one of the few (so far) told almost entirely in flashback, and with someone else as the actual narrator. There is, to be fair, more for Watson to do in this story than there is for Holmes, and he remarks indeed at the beginning that this is only one of two cases he has brought to Holmes, rather than the other way around.

I find the ending quite abrupt and unsatisfactory, and I get the feeling Doyle was trying to go for as realistic a tale as he could, to show that not everything wraps up in a neat bow at the end, as we already learned with "The Five Orange Pips". It doesn't do much to satisfy the reader's thirst for a good ending, but it does make you feel that Holmes is a real man and that sometimes things simply don't work out, and circumstances conspire against him. It's a story, too, with no winners. The criminals get away, the engineer loses his thumb and his commission, though the gang are identified and located they are not caught by Holmes, and there's no guarantee they won't turn up again in some other town.

Character Study

Victor Hatherley: A man who is an orphan and a bachelor, he is the perfect target for Stark, who needs a man who can keep his mouth shut and doesn't have others he might feel the need to discuss his job with. He's young and only starting out in business, which again makes him a fitting subject for the colonel. His gallantry towards Elise ends when he thinks of losing his payment, and conjectures that she might be insane, but in the end it seems as though it is she who saves his life. He is quite expert in his field, so is able to see through the thin cover story of mining for fullers-earth, his perspicacity all but leading to his downfall. His engineering prowess comes in handy when his thumb is cut, as he is able to manufacture a splint to keep it from bleeding out, but he is depressed that he has gone all that way for nothing, losing a thumb into the bargain.

Colonel Lysander Stark: Though addressed by Elise as Fritz, and described as German, we don't know any more about his true identity. Is he a colonel, or is this just a cover? He is part of, perhaps leader of a gang of coiners, and has enlisted the help of an engineer before, who has no doubt been killed, either in the press or otherwise. He is a dangerous and overbearing man, and impresses Hatherley from the first with an intense feeling of dislike, which he overcomes in the name of profit. He is a slippery customer, and no doubt will be heard of again, though not in the Holmes stories.

Better than you

As they head towards Eyford, Bradstreet has drawn a circle encompassing the area he believes the house may lie within. The party argue over which direction the house may lie in, but Holmes tells them they are all wrong, and that it is in the centre of the circle. He is of course right.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

An engineer who has been contracted privately to look at a stamping press in Eyford in Berkshire loses his thumb when his patron turns out to be a forger, and tries to kill him as he escapes. He comes to Watson for medical treatment. Watson takes him to Holmes, to whom he relates his story. They all go back there but the house has burned down and the gang have escaped.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 6

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 17

Famous Firsts

The first case Watson brings to Holmes, though not the first which begins with him, as we saw in "The Man With the Twisted Lip".

The first story with no mystery to be solved.

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Not in the least. The gang get away and the engineer, the client, has lost both his thumb and his commission.

Self-referentials None

Legal outcome (if any): None
:2.5stars:

Title: "The Noble Bachelor"
Year first published: 1892
Type: Short story
Chronology: 10th short story, 10th in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 12th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Hanover Square; Lancaster Gate
Date: 1888 (Watson remarks that it takes place a few weeks before his marriage, but as that date is not confirmed I can only guess at it being a few weeks, perhaps a month after the affair of The Sign of the Four, which took place in September, so would hazard a date of either late October or early November, depending on when in September the novel was supposed to have been set).
The crime or the mystery: The disappearance of Lady St. Simon
The time (if given): 4:00 pm


The Players
The client: Lord Robert St. Simon
The victim(s): Miss Hatty Doran, his newly-wed wife
The accused or suspected: Flora Miller, dancer
The arrested: Same
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Lestrade
The advocate(s): None
The real culprit(s): None
Others: Mr. Aloysious Doran, Hatty's father; Alice, Hatty's maid; Frank Moulton, Hatty's first husband.

The clues: The dropping of the bouquet; the note written on a hotel bill
The red herring(s): The wedding dress found in the river; Flora Miller's involvement.
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough:
The result: Holmes confirms that Hatty has hooked up again with her first husband from California

Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case: None

Before the case

It's a cold and rainy day and Watson is taking it easy indoors reading the papers while Holmes goes out for his walk alone. There is a letter awaiting his friend, with a very elaborate crest on it, and when Holmes comes back he opens it to find that a meeting has been requested - well, arranged - by Lord Simon, who will call on him at four o'clock today. Knowing little of the affair in which he is about to become entangled, other than that Lord St. Simon has just recently been married, Holmes asks Watson to enlighten him, since he has spent the day reading the newspapers. Watson shows him an account which refers to the marriage of the Duke's son to a California millionaire's daughter, Hatty Doran, and then, to his considerable interest, the disappearance of the bride just after the wedding.

In the longest, if you will, introduction to the case we've witnessed yet, Watson goes on to explain that at the wedding breakfast there was a disturbance when a woman tried to gain admittance to the hotel, claiming to be already involved with the groom. She was ejected (Watson reads) and then the bride complained of an indisposition and retired to her room. She was not seen again in the house, having left almost as soon as she reached her room, grabbing an ulster (jacket) and her bag and legging it out into the street. Police enquiries were put in motion by her father and the groom, but at this point no sign has ever been found of her. A postscript to Watson's account notes that the lady who had tried to force her way in, a Flora Miller, has been arrested in connection with the incident.

Synopsis:

And so to the case. Lord St. Simon tells Holmes that his new wife was brought up in the mining camps of San Francisco, and is a tomboy. She had been in good spirits, he says, up to the point of the ceremony when, as she walked up the aisle she dropped her bouquet and it was caught by a man in a nearby pew, who returned it to her. She then changed. She became snappish, short, distracted, and after the ceremony had been concluded she was seen speaking to her maid Alice, another American. There was talk, Lord St. Simon says, of "jumping a claim", though he has no idea what that means, it being American slang and unfamiliar to him. Later Hatty was seen walking with Flora Miller in Hyde Park.

His  Lordship confirms that he used to have relations with Flora Miller, and that she made more of it than it was - or than he saw it as - and got very angry when his marriage was announced. He feared she would cause trouble, so had only a small private wedding, but she still got wind of it and tried to gatecrash the party. Lord St. Simon seems to think his wife became giddy, then temporarily lost her reason at the prospect of moving up so much in the world. Scratch me head, wot? As we say here in Ireland. In other words, what a big head. She comes from a wealthy family, one of the richest in California if not all America, and she's an American, to whom his outdated ideas of social class and position can mean nothing, and yet he thinks she has gone mad with ecstasy at the thought?

Holmes tells him he has already solved the mystery, to his amazement. He says he will produce Lady St. Simon very soon, and His Lordship leaves shaking his head, perhaps thinking Holmes too is mad. Maybe it is the rarefied air Lord St. Simon carries about with him, that affects everyone's reasoning, huh? Give me strength. Anyway, when he's gone Holmes tells Watson he had solved it even before St. Simon arrived. At that moment Lestrade arrives, and  Holmes is amused to hear he has been having the Serpentine river dragged in search of Lady St. Simon's body. Even when the inspector triumphantly produces a wedding dress and shoes that were found there, Holmes is not impressed. Lestrade goes further, taking a note which was in a case in the pocket of the dress (I didn't know wedding dresses had pockets) which appears to implicate Flora Miller. It says "You will see me when all is ready. Come at once. F.H.M."

Looking at the note, Holmes realises it is in fact written on part of a hotel bill, which he deems important; much more so than the note itself, to Lestrade's annoyance and disbelief. As the inspector leaves in a fury, Holmes tells him that there is no such person as Lady St. Simon: she never existed. He then goes out himself, leaving Watson at Baker Street. The doctor is most surprised when a cold supper is delivered and set out, to instructions, the delivery people say, received from Mr. Holmes. All paid for and for this address. When Holmes returns it is night time, and the table has been set for five. First to arrive is Lord St. Simon, who is in a state. He has obviously already been briefed by Holmes, and is very angry at his wife. Holmes asks him to see things from her point of view, but he is not interested. All he's concerned about is how the scandal will affect him and his family.

The next guests are a couple, introduced to Lord St. Simon as Mr and Mrs. Francis Hay Moulton, and to his dismay Mrs. Moulton is the woman he just married! The so-called Lady St. Simon. His anger knows no bounds, but she explains to him that the man on her arm now is her husband, Frank Moulton, whom she knew in the mining camps of San Francisco. He had gone away to make his fortune, her father believing him unworthy of her as his gold prospecting had not come up with anything much, and though they had the preacher marry them, he had said he would not claim her as his wife until he came back rich. Later she had heard a report that he had been killed by Indians, and so went into mourning. But as her father had forbidden her to marry a poor man and knew nothing of their secret wedding, he did not know what was wrong with her.

Eventually they came to England and she met and fell in love with St. Simon, though her heart had and always would belong to Frank Moulton. On the way up to the altar she was astonished to see Frank sitting in the pews, and on the way out she dropped her bouquet, having seen he was writing a note for her. This, then, was the note that Lestrade had found in her dress pocket, a request to come and see him. She had then spoken to her maid back at the house, arranged to get away with her help and gone to see Frank, who told her her had been captured by the Indians and held prisoner, but escaped and had come to England, having heard she had gone there.

Holmes had traced them and went to speak to them, to point out that they really owed His Lordship an explanation, as they had been about to abscond to France. They would feel better, he had said, if they made a clean breast of it, rather than everyone think she had been kidnapped or gone mad or died. So they had answered his summons and come to set the record straight. Lord St. Simon takes her explanation rather stiffly, but by the laws of England he cannot marry a woman who is already wed, so he has no choice but to fuck off and see who else is willing to hitch their wagon to his rich, expensive carriage.

After the case

Holmes explains how he solved the case (below) and laughs at how two people working entirely differently can come up with two completely different solutions. He, with his knowledge of past cases and his sharp eye for detail, got it right, while Lestrade, proceeding under a false assumption, could not have been further from the truth had he believed she had been abducted by aliens.

How the case is solved:

Holmes says the fact that Hatty was prepared to go through with the marriage and then changed her mind on returning home meant that she must have talked to or met someone who had had that effect on her. As she was with Lord St. Simon all the time, he reasons, she could not have spoken to anyone, but she could have met someone. As she is only a short time in London, anyone who could exert such an influence over her must be from her past, and therefore  must also be an American. Putting together the dropping of the bouquet, which he sees as an obvious way of passing or receiving a message, with the man in the pew, he works out that this man must be either an old lover or husband, and is inclined to the latter, which in the end proves to be the case.

The conversation Hatty had with her maid, in which she spoke of "jumping a claim", refers to the previous responsibility she had to Frank, and though Lord St. Simon knows nothing of any prior arrangement, she sees perhaps herself as jumping the claim, or Lord St. Simon as doing so, I'm not quite sure. The unalterable fact though is that there is a man who has a previous claim on her heart, a man she is still in love with, to whom she is indeed married, and she now believes herself to be his; she must be faithful to him, and dump Lord St. Simon.

Holmes goes on to tell Watson how he then tracked the pair down by means of the note, or rather, the reverse of it, whereon was the bill, which was expensive enough that he knew it must be a very high-class hotel. Having located this hotel and checked the register, he then obtained Moulton's address and so was able to talk to the couple before they left, and try to arrange some sort of reconciliation, or at least explanation, in which Lord St. Simon seems to have been supremely disinterested.

Comments:

A clever story, again betraying Doyle's fascination with Americans, whom he seemed to view almost as aliens, people who did things differently to how English people did, people who were not as well-bred and who were, in a word, wild. I'm not quite sure how his books went down then in the US of A, but as Sherlock Holmes is just as well known over there as anywhere, I guess they were able to look past the somewhat, well, what would you call it - Americaphobic? - theme in many of his stories. It's another mystery Holmes solves without leaving his armchair, in fact he only goes out in order to contact the couple and try to mend bridges, something he fails in doing but through no fault of his.

Perhaps this could be put down as not quite something Holmes solves on his own merits and more a case, as he mentions himself, of having knowledge of previous examples of the same thing, somewhat like the idea in "A Case of Identity", where he says the same story occurred in various parts of Europe. It's a missing persons case with actually no missing person, and it could be seen as slightly misogynist, with the blame, as it were, laid on the shoulders of the woman, but rather cleverly Doyle makes us have a certain amount of disdain for Lord St. Simon from the start, showing us a man who is obsessed with his own standing and thinks everyone in the world is more or less subservient to him. I like how Holmes cuts him down to size, showing him there are, if you will excuse the rather crude but I think appropriate metaphor, bigger dicks in the room.

This is the second Holmes story to feature a church (third, if you include "A Case of Identity", though they never actually went in to the church in that one as "Hosmer Angel" had vanished) and I think the first wherein Holmes goes out strolling without Watson, that is, not being actively engaged on a case. It's also a curious case (most singular!) in that it can be seen as both a success and a failure. Holmes locates the missing wife for Lord St. Simon, but the man is far from happy with the outcome, so technically that could count as a failure, but he allows Hatty and Frank to head off without the pressure of leaving without telling her father or her husband of a day, which is certainly a success for them. It's a story that for once actually shows Holmes as human; he usually tends to not quite suck up to the nobility, but side with them, while here he takes the part of the woman in love, essentially I guess for once allowing his heart to rule his head.

I like the way Doyle uses the same initials for two characters, fooling us into thinking the "F.H.M." on the card found with the wedding dress is Flora Miller, when in fact it's Frank H. Moulton. Clever, and a well-written red herring. However, I take issue with the title of the story. There's nothing noble about Lord St. Simon (unless it refers to Moulton, which it can't, as he's married, even if kind of in absentia) and, more to the point, he's not a bachelor. I mean, what his status is now I don't know. Under English law then, is his marriage annulled or invalidated since he finds his "wife" is already married? Does that then return him to the status of a bachelor? Maybe. Despite all that though, he's about as far from noble as you can get, unless the word is meant to refer to his class, which I suppose you can't argue against. But the story could have had a better title.

Character Study

Lord Robert St. Simon: If anyone in a Holmes story typifies the entitlement and arrogance of the so-called upper class, and all that is wrong/was wrong in English society, this guy is the poster child for "down with the riff-raff". All he can see is his own status, and imagines Hatty Doran is so overcome by being brought into the rarefied heights of his world that she loses her mind. Even when he instructs Holmes to find his wife, he's not really thinking of her, but of the scandal that will stick to him. It's quite clear he doesn't actually love her: any man who had lost his new wife to another man would put up some sort of a fight, or at least be glad she had found love, but he is a cold, unfeeling bastard who thinks the world revolves around him. As Jesus once said (I think it's Ephesians, but I could be wrong) fuck him.

Hatty Doran: A free spirit (look at her name - probably a diminution of Harriet) who spent her time in mining camps in California, her heart is broken when the man she really loves is reported killed, and she comes to England with her father. It seems she marries St. Simon not so much because she loves him, but to satisfy her father and in the knowledge that time is moving on. She certainly doesn't marry him for his money (other way round actually) and when she realises her original lover, and husband. Is still alive she pledges her allegiance to him. To be fair, she does apologise to St. Simon, but the man is so up himself that he can't bring himself to consider her future happiness. She was clearly out of her depth in her new role as his wife, and is probably, despite St. Simon's high-sounding beliefs of her, glad to leave it all behind and go off with her cowboy husband.

Frank Moulton: American miner, Frank was engaged to Hatty when he met her in the San Francisco mines, but her father wanted better for her, so he promised to only come back for her when he was rich and could ask for her hand. Later, Hatty heard he had been captured and killed by Indians (Native Americans to you and me) but he survived, escaped and followed her to England, where he makes his presence known to her in the church. Hatty thereafter dumps the boring Lord St. Simon and goes back to her first husband.

Better than you

Holmes smoothly takes the Lord down a whole peg when they meet; St. Simon remarks that he doubts Holmes has ever worked in circles of society like his, and the detective notes that he is correct: Holmes is going down in the world. The last time he dealt with a case of this nature it was for a king. That shuts him up!

He then laughs at Lestrade's wild theory about Lady St.Simon being drowned in the Serpentine, and Flora Miller being involved. He makes a cutting remark when he shows the card - the reverse of it to the inspector and tells him it's important but Lestrade says he doesn't see it. "No, I don't expect you do," he muses. Whether or not he advises Lestrade of the outcome of his investigations I don't know; it's not alluded to, but given that Lord St. Simon does not want to be a laughing stock (as he sees it) I wonder if he doesn't just quietly let the matter drop?

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Having married an eligible bachelor, son of a duke, Hatty Moran disappears during the wedding breakfast. It turns out she has been reunited with her first husband, whom she had thought dead, and runs off with him.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 6

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 18

Famous Firsts

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Yes and no. In terms of the client, well, also yes and no. Holmes does what he was asked to do, which is locate his missing wife. Lord St. Simon is not so happy with the outcome of the case though. If you consider the lady, she is certainly happy; Holmes allows her to at least attempt some sort of explanation to the stiff, furious Lord St. Simon, and she can claim to be the better person (and also clearly must see the prick never loved her) so she would be a satisfied customer. If she was the client. Which she was not. So, like I said at the beginning, yes and no.

Self-referentials "A Scandal in Bohemia" and (very obliquely) "A Case of Identity"

Legal outcome (if any): None
:3.5stars:

Title: "The Beryl Coronet"
Year first published: 1892
Type: Short story
Chronology: 11th short story, 11th in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 13th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Streatham
Date: February (no idea of the year; the vaguest date yet)
The crime or the mystery: The theft of a priceless piece of jewellery
The time (if given): Early morning


The Players
The client: Alexander Holder, banker
The victim(s): Same
The accused or suspected: Arthur Holder, his son
The arrested: Same
The investigating officer(s): None; there is an arrest but we are not told who, if anyone, is in charge of the case and the police do not figure at all in the story
The advocate(s): Holmes
The real culprit(s): Sir George Burnwell, disreputable gambler; Mary, Holder's niece
Others: Lucy Parr, maid; Francis Prosper, greengrocer and lover of Lucy Parr

The clues: Naked footprints in the snow, the involvement of Sir George with the family, Mary's disappearance, Arthur's request for five minutes grace.
The red herring(s): Arthur's debts; his having the Beryl Coronet in his hands; his threat to make good on his debts by other means since his father will not loan him any money; the presumed involvement of the maid and her lover.
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: Loafer
The breakthrough: When Holmes is unable to break the Coronet, he realises Arthur could not do so either, and so he must have been trying to straighten it out, making him innocent of its theft
The result: The broken part of the Beryl Coronet is bought back by Holmes with Holder's money, Arthur is released as an innocent man, and Mary absconds with the villainous Sir George Burnwell.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case: None

Before the case

Unaware he is watching their next client, Watson stands at the window one February morning and deplores the fact that madmen are let out in the street alone, as he watches the progress of what seems to be a man who has lost his mind.

Synopsis:

Once settled and composed, the man introduces himself as Alexander Holder, of Holder & Stevenson, bankers. He explains that he has had entrusted into his care as security for a large loan the Beryl Coronet, a treasure as important and expensive as the Crown Jewels, and that he was so worried about its own security that he took it home and put it in his own safe. Last night he awoke to find his son, Arthur, holding it and bending it, three jewels missing on a piece that had snapped off. Holder declared his intention to call the police on his son, but Arthur asked him for five minutes' grace before doing so. His father refused, and Arthur is now under arrest.

Mary, Holder's niece, whom he treats as his own daughter, mentioned that she had seen Lucy, the maid, who has not been with them more than a few months, talking outside to some man, and Arthur had already unsuccessfully tapped his father up for money, being in debt, as it seems is his usual state. Holmes and Watson go with Holder to his house, Fairbank, in Streatham, where they  meet Mary, who is convinced of Arthur's innocence. She mentions the boy Lucy was seeing outside that night, a Francis Prosper, the local greengrocer. Holmes mentions that Prosper has a wooden leg, which seems to amaze Mary, though he is correct. Holmes does not elaborate on how he knows this, but we know his methods by now and no doubt he has seen the impression his wooden leg made in the ground.

Shown the Beryl Coronet, Holmes tries himself to break off a section but he cannot, though he is quite strong, as we saw in "The Speckled Band". Also, he notes, should he have been able to achieve such a thing, the sound would have been heard certainly by Holder himself, who was sleeping in the room. He says it would be like a pistol shot, and it is inconceivable that Holder should not hear it, therefore his original idea, that Arthur had not broken off the corner, but was in fact trying to straighten it out, seems more likely to be the truth. Holmes and Watson return to London; Holmes disguises himself and goes off on his own to make further enquiries, authorised by Holder to spend whatever is necessary to retrieve the missing gems.

The next morning, when Holder comes to see them as arranged, he tells them his niece has run off, adding to his troubles, but Holmes is not surprised. He had expected as much. He returns the missing jewels to Holder, having paid £4000 for them, which the banker is happy to pay, and more to the point, confirms that his son is innocent. Having all the facts at his disposal, he tells Holder, he visited Arthur in jail and, when the boy would not break his trust, related the story to him, and he agreed Holmes had got it right. Mary had fallen for Sir George, and between them they had plotted to rob the Beryl Coronet, but Arthur had come upon them, struggled with Sir George, breaking off a piece of the Coronet, with which the thief had absconded. As Holmes suspected, Arthur had then returned the Beryl Coronet to his father's safe, and had been trying to bend it back into shape when Holder woke and came upon him.

Arthur kept the secret because he was in love with Mary, though the feelings were not reciprocated, and he knew what the discovery of her treachery would mean. He had asked for the extra five minutes in the hope that he could go outside and see if he could find the missing part of the Coronet. Holmes then used his contacts to find Sir George, but he had already fenced the jewels. Holmes made a deal and got them, and then returned to await the arrival of Holder the next morning. Holder has now been saved a scandal, has lost a niece but in the process gained a son.

After the case

Little really; the explanation that ties things up, and a dire prediction by Holmes as to what is likely to happen to the feckless Mary in the hands of Sir George Burnwell.

How the case is solved:  After he realises it is impossible for one man to break the Coronet, Holmes sees that it must have been done in a struggle between two. The noise, also, would be loud enough to wake Holder. Hearing previously that Arthur loved Mary, he reasons that if anyone is being protected here by the boy it is she, and when he sees his naked footprints in the snow outside, he knows he is right, as Holder has already told him that his son was wearing no slippers on his feet when he came upon him. The involvement of Sir George Burnwell with the family is the final link.


Comments:

Like some of the stories, this is really great but there are major flaws in it, so far as I can see. First, who would entrust such a possession to the care of a bank without demanding it be held in the vault? And why? No reason is given for this loan, which the mysterious high-ranking client of the bank admits he could get from his friends, but would rather make a business matter of it. Why is that? It is something embarrassing? Is he being blackmailed? Never explained. When Holder does take the precious article home then, he puts it in a cupboard, which his son tells him is not in the least secure, that any key in the house will fit it. Unlike the more cautious Lord in "The Second Stain", he does not keep the presence of the Coronet from his family, but blabs about it, even though fully aware how dissolute his son is, and that the maid may have heard. Hardly security conscious, is it?

But the biggest flaw of all, to me, is the breaking off of part of the thing. I mean, yes, maybe he can take it to a jeweller and have it repaired, but this Beryl Coronet is supposed to be as famous as the Crown Jewels. Would you bring the Crown Jewels to be repaired, and not expect rumours to start flying? Who's going to keep his mouth shut about that? And how will he afford it? Well, he is a banker, so maybe that's not such an issue. But where is he likely to find a craftsman of that skill? He's hardly likely to know of any. And what if the "noble visitor" who left the thing in his keeping gets to hear of this? Will he not be in major trouble? And finally, no matter how well it's repaired is it not likely to be obvious? How will he explain that?

Other than that, though, the story is a good illustration of how things are not always - often not ever - as they seem at first. Arthur's guilt seems ironclad, and his father, though he does not wish to, feels he has to believe that he is guilty, while no suspicion falls on the real thief, his precious niece, who is not as innocent a girl as she seems to be. The police - though only alluded to in the vaguest manner, and not involved in the case at all - would be, and were, likely to have completely ignored and dismissed any of Holmes' concerns; once again, it seemed an easy case for them. They got their man, and who cares if it's not the actual culprit? One thing very prevalent in Doyle's stories is the idea that the police don't bother themselves too much with conflicting facts if they hurt their case; there's no compunction about them accepting things on face value, even if there is contradictory evidence, and this is pretty much as true now as it was then.

Another weak woman in Doyle's stories, as Mary, the young innocent, falls prey to the wiles and machinations of the evil Sir George in quite a bit of cliched melodramatic Gothic romance and intrigue, though Holmes, ever the pragmatist, blames her just as much for her actions as those of her svengali, and rightly, too: it's not like the man forced her. Still, it's a poor view of women, and a pretty mostly consistent one that runs through all the Holmes stories. There are occasions where Holmes praises a woman's courage or intelligence, but these are far outweighed by the times he sees them or exposes them as either dupes or users. A little troubling, but remember when these stories were written.

Character Study

Alexander Holder: The client in the case, he has been driven to distraction and ill health by the theft of the Beryl Coronet, and like anyone else would, knowing his son's history, he is quite ready to believe the boy is guilty. He has no such suspicions of Mary, at whom he should be looking much more closely. He now has two major problems on his hands: the loss of part of the Beryl Coronet and the arrest of his son for its theft, or at least, part of it. No doubt he also fears scandal coming down on his bank, as he was acting as its agent when he made the loan and took the security. He's a man who doesn't go out much, and presumably is too entangled in the problems of his son to see how his niece's head is being turned by a bad influence.

Arthur Holder: On the face of it, open and shut case. A real candidate for the theft, due to his mounting bills for gambling at his club and his father's refusal to advance him any more money. In this I find his character pretty incongruous really. Not only does he not snatch the opportunity to wipe out all his debts in one swoop and perhaps gain revenge on the father who will not help him, he actually endangers himself by running after Sir George and fighting with him for the Beryl Coronet. He has already intimated his intention to "seek other means" to settle his debt. Perhaps meant as a red herring, it's odd that he makes this veiled threat, but then when the chance comes within his grasp he does not take it. He proves, in fact, to be a faithful man, both to his father (in trying to, and succeeding, recovering the Coronet) and to his undeserving cousin, literally going to jail for her.

Better than you N/A

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

After having been entrusted with a priceless piece of jewellery, Alexander Holder is aghast when it appears his son has stolen part of it. However the sleuth uncovers a conspiracy between the client's niece and a no-good friend of Arthur, the son, a conspiracy to steal the artefact, and it is only Arthur's intervention which prevents them getting away with their plot.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 6

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental 0:
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 18

Famous Firsts

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Absolutely. The stolen part of the Beryl Coronet is recovered and Arthur is proven innocent.

Self-referentials

Legal outcome (if any): Arthur is released from custody, though the real thief is not arrested. Oddly, though he apparently admits to not only having stolen the fragment of the coronet but having fenced it, Sir George is not arrested. Perhaps Holmes had to give him some sort of guarantee of immunity in order to be given the name of the person Sir George sold the gems to? Maybe his own high standing is enough to protect him from prosecution, or maybe Alexander Holder just wants as little public attention drawn to his gaffe as possible.
:4stars:

Title: "The Copper Beeches"
Year first published: 1892
Type: Short story
Chronology: 12th short story, 12th and final story in The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, 14th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; The Copper Beeches, Hampshire.
Date: "Early spring" is all we're told, so I guess anywhere from maybe February to perhaps April?
The crime or the mystery: At the time, none; a simple request for advice.
The time (if given): 10:30am

The Players
The client: Miss Violet Hunter
The victim(s): Alice Rucastle, daughter of Jephro
The accused or suspected: Jephro Rucastle
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): None
The advocate(s): Mr. Fowler, Alice's fiance
The real culprit(s): Jephro Rucastle; Mrs. Rucastle
Others: Miss Stoper, manageress of Westaway's employment agency; Mr. Toller, servant; Mrs. Toller, his wife

The clues: Strange conditions attached to Miss Hunter's employment; locks of hair found in a drawer which are identical to hers; a locked room she is prohibited to enter; the appearance of a man in the street and Rucastle's response to that event.
The red herring(s): None
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: Hard to say. Holmes works out that Miss Hunter is being made impersonate someone, but it's more through a general massing of clues than any specific thing that tips Holmes off.
The result: Holmes discovers that Rucastle has been keeping his daughter prisoner, and trying to substitute Miss Hunter as her in order to satisfy her lover, who has been watching the house.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case: None; Holmes is annoyed that Miss Hunter seems to be troubling him with what he considers a trivial matter not worthy of him, and is in no mood to show off his usual observational powers.

Before the case

Holmes gently chides Watson, as he has done before, on his tendency to, as he sees it, embellish or romanticise what Holmes sees as cold, clinical cases of logic when the doctor writes his accounts of his friend's cases. It seems though that Holmes has accepted that he will never change his friend's mind about this, and that he will continue to write as is his wont. He does then allow that Watson does not only choose the most sensational cases Holmes has been involved in, rather the ones that are the most interesting. There's a measure of egotism and pride about Holmes, which Watson has marked before and does not like, especially when he comments with regret that there are no real criminals left, and with some disgust casts a letter on the table beside Watson, unaware that one of his best cases is about to unfold.

Synopsis:

Holmes has received a note from a Miss Violet Hunter, asking his advice as to whether or not she should take a position as governess. The great detective deplores the fact that he has now been reduced to the level of an agony aunt, but when the woman arrives it is a most interesting story she has to tell. She has been offered a position in Hampshire as a governess, at very good pay, but with some very strange stipulations. Her prospective employer, Jephro Rucastle, wishes her to wear a certain dress, sit where she is asked to and cut her hair. This last is a deal-breaker, on both sides: Miss Hunter has lovely long hair and does not want to cut it, but eventually the lure of the money wins out and she has decided to agree, and to take the job.

Holmes cannot dissuade her from taking the job (even though she came here asking his help and advice, she does not take it) but worries about her. He believes the inducement is too high, and that, as ever, when something seems too good to be true, it usually is. It's also a pretty well-established fact that there ain't no such thing as a free lunch. But without any further information to go on he is stymied, and frustrated. He knows he is missing something. Two weeks later a letter arrives from Miss Hunter, asking him to please come down to Hampshire, as she does not know what to do. Holmes and Watson are on the next train south.

Miss Hunter tells them that her new employer is on his second wife, and that she is a pale, colourless thing, silent and morose. He has a daughter, that of his first wife, who has gone to America, and a son, who is a nasty, bullying, cruel little thing, who loves giving pain to other creatures. There are only two servants, the Tollers, and the male is almost always drunk, though Mr. Rucastle doesn't seem to pay any mind to that. He has asked her to wear a certain blue dress and sit in a chair near the window, with her back to it, while he walks up and down telling her funny stories. Twice he has requested this performance, and seems satisfied each time with the outcome.

However she tells  Holmes that the couple have been very careful to keep her back to the window and not allow her to look out into the street, but by devious means she managed to see that there was a man looking up the road at the house. When they realised, or suspected, that she had seen the man, Rucastle told her to turn around and wave him away, which seemed odd, but she did as she was bid. Since then, she has not been asked to wear the dress or sit in the window. She then tells the pair that there is a big nasty dog on the grounds, which belongs to Toller and is let loose at night, so she is warned never to go out after dark.

Then, to add more mystery to an already strange situation, Miss Hunter finds locks of what appear to be her own hair, which of course she has cut off by now, in a drawer in her room. But it turns out not to be hers, but identical in every way to hers. She can't figure this out. There is also a room in the house to which she is not admitted, but from which Rucastle came, she says, away from looking very angry. She believes it has shutters on the windows; Rucastle, when she asked him about it, told her it was his darkroom, that he engaged in photography, but something in his eyes told her not to believe him.

She of course had to investigate, but when she managed to get into the room she found it to contain a passageway which ran to three doors, two of which opened into empty, dusty, dirty rooms, the third locked. And from behind that door, the sound of footsteps, the shadow of someone moving. She ran for it, straight into Rucastle, whose manner changed, becoming threatening and angry. It was at this point she decided to call for Holmes.

Formulating a plan, Holmes asks her to lock Toller's wife in the cellar that evening - Toller is drunk and will be no use to anyone, and the Rucastles are going out - and he and Watson will come to the house. He has by now divined that Miss Hunter was brought to the house to impersonate someone, most likely the daughter who has been said to be in America, but is surely held prisoner in the locked room. The wearing of the dress (surely her favourite, or one she used to wear of choice), the cutting of her hair (as the daughter must have had hers cut, or lost it to illness) and the sitting in the chair and laughing to dissuade the attentions of the young man, who must be her fiance, looking to see if she is all right, all point to the conclusion Holmes has come to.

When they get there, they burst open the locked door, but the room is empty and the skylight open. Rucastle has taken his captive and legged it. As they stand there he returns, and on seeing them in the room growls at them and goes for the dog. Unfortunately for him, Toller is the only one who can control the brute, and it goes for Rucastle, tearing his throat out. Watson shoots it dead, and when Mrs. Toller is released she is ready to tell the whole story. She relates how Alice Rucastle was never happy after her father remarried, and that she had money of her own left her in her mother's will, but that her father kept control of it, and tried to force her to sign it over to him. She would not, and when she met a man, Mr. Fowler, Rucastle feared she would soon be beyond his grasp.

When she fell ill due to her badgering and had to take to his bed, he took his chance and imprisoned her, but Fowler kept watch on the house, looking for her, so Rucastle had to find a stand-in for his captive daughter, and that was where Violet Hunter came in.

After the case

Rucastle actually survives the attack by the dog, but he is crippled, and his silent wife has to look after him. Alice, rescued (presumably; the narrative doesn't make it clear) marries Mr. Fowler and they move to Mauritius, while Miss Hunter takes up a post teaching. Watson remarks with regret that Holmes lost interest in her once the problem was solved.


How the case is solved: With all the odd conditions in mind, and with what Miss Hunter tells him when they go down to see her, Holmes quickly figures out that she has been brought down there to impersonate Rucastle's daughter, and when the frightened governess tells them of the locked room, his suspicions are confirmed.

Comments:

A classic Gothic mystery, with the cliched prisoner in the attic/locked room, with something of a twist in the attempt to impersonate her and throw her lover off the scent. Again though there are quite a few flaws in this, I feel. The role of the child, the cruel, capricious little bastard who needs a good slap, is played down a lot. He's used as evidence that Rucastle is not as jolly or friendly as he seems, the idea of the child copying the parent, but it could have been used to better effect I feel. The kid could have warned her she might end up in the locked room too - well, I'm not going to go second-guessing Doyle, but I think he gives the child a smaller role here than he could have had. Then there's the hair. I mean, sure the drawer is locked, but why put Miss Hunter in a room where she might find Alice's hair? Why not keep it in the father's room? Why not throw it out? It doesn't seem like Jephro Rucastle has any particular love for his daughter, so why would he even want to keep it, especially as it may provide, as it does, a clue to his real intentions?

Why is Toller drunk all the time? Does he disapprove of the incarceration? It's never mentioned. And why does Rucastle condone his drunkenness? Is it because he is the only one who can control the dog? If so, why not get another dog, one he can control? It doesn't seem like Rucastle is the kind of guy who likes to rely on other people. Why is Mrs. Rucastle so silent and morose? She clearly has no problem with their plan, and is in on it, as she warns her husband about Mr. Fowler, but what's the plan? Is she morose because she agreed to it and now regrets it? If so, she shows no sign of it, but you have to assume she does at least love Jephro, as she promises to look after him after he is injured critically by the dog.

It's also not made clear how Alice is returned. When they arrive, she is gone, taken out through the skylight. But Rucastle comes back alone. Where has he taken her? Has his wife spirited her off to some place, and if so, when she comes back, is Alice with her? Not mentioned. Do the police get involved? No word. How is Mr. Fowler involved in her release? Doesn't say. In fact, the first time I read this I thought there was no mention of Alice, that she had been taken out of the house and Holmes had failed. It's only in the postscript that we hear she gets to marry Mr. Fowler, but the nature of their reunion is not touched upon at all.

If Mrs. Toller was against the imprisonment, was her husband? If the answer is yes, then why didn't they confront their employer? Toller had control of the dog, and could easily have brought in, or threatened to bring in the police. Is he an accessory, and is that why he drinks so much, that he knows he can't sell out Rucastle without landing himself in the dock? But is it likely Toller would have cooperated against his wife's wishes? Does he just drink because he feels there's nothing he can do? The issue of his drinking is, I think, not properly explored here either.

As I say, a lot of, if not plot holes then certainly areas which would stand better examination and explanation, and quite a loose storyline in the end.

Character Study

Violet Hunter: A pretty strong, independent woman, she has lost her mother and father when we meet her, and so has no parental figure to turn to for advice, asking Holmes to play, essentially, the role of her father, which he does. She has enough sense to be able to see though Rucastle's facade of a genial, happy and friendly man; she reads in his eyes what perhaps others might miss. But like all of us, she is swayed away from her fears by the prospect of high pay, even if it means she must sacrifice her crowning glory. It doesn't take too long before she realises something is wrong though, and she is quick to call in Holmes.

Though not a timid woman, she is terrified by the idea of someone being held prisoner in the house, and is very wary of, and eventually frightened by, her employer. She has a strong sense of duty, prepared to put herself in peril in the effort to help someone less fortunate than she.. Unlike some others of Doyle's female characters, she doesn't just sit on the sidelines and wait for the men to sort things out, but takes an active role herself.

Jephro Rucastle: Outwardly, a benign, friendly person with the figure to go with such a jolly disposition, but beneath the mask lurks an evil sadist, whose primary motivation is greed and financial gain, who is prepared to imprison his own daughter in order not to lose control of her money. He is not a stupid man; the whole idea of getting someone to pretend to be Alice is his, and it's well executed too. You have to wonder, given that he offers such high pay to Miss Hunter, if that money is coming from Alice's funds, and if so, then a supreme irony is that the daughter is in effect paying for her own imprisonment to be covered up and continue.

Where he found Toller is not explained, but you might be inclined to think his employment hinged on his owning the huge dog, which Rucastle knows is sufficient inducement not only to Miss Hunter to stay indoors and night, but to prevent Alice's lover engaging in any late-night exploration of his own. It's somewhat interesting that when he comes upon the trio and sees they have discovered his crime, given he's a big burly man and has a heavy stick in hand, his first instinct is not to attack them but to run to get the dog, which proves to be his undoing. A bit stupid really, as he had already noted that Toller was the only one who had control over the animal.

Like most men, Rucastle married a younger woman, but whether the business with Alice is responsible for her maudlin condition, or whether she was always taciturn, he does not appear to have chosen well. She's neither beautiful nor pleasant, and you can't help wishing that Doyle had properly explained why she is how she is. After all, Alice is not her daughter, only her step-daughter, and it's not as if she's unaware of the plan to keep her prisoner; she is in fact going along with it. So why is she so morose? Maybe she's changed her mind, but Jephro Rucastle is not a man to be told what he can and can't do, so perhaps she's in his power.

Better than you N/A

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Miss Violet Hunter takes a job as a governess, despite Holmes' advice to the contrary, and soon finds that all is not well. She has to wear a certain dress, sit in a certain place, cut her hair, wave to someone who is watching down the street. Holmes quickly comes to the conclusion that her employer is making her impersonate his daughter, who is held prisoner in the house so that Rucastle can have control of her money. Holmes exposes the incarceration and frees the girl, leaving Rucastle a shattered wreck after having been attacked by his own dog.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 1 (Jephro Rucastle)
Running total: 7

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental 0:
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 18

Famous Firsts None spring to mind.

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Yes; Miss Hunter is saved from having to participate in a scheme to keep her employer's daughter locked up, and the daughter is freed.

Self-referentials "A Scandal in Bohemia", "A Case of Identity", "The Man with the Twisted Lip", "The Noble Bachelor"

Legal outcome (if any): None
:3stars:

As we reach the end of the first collection of Holmes short stories, this seems an opportune time to have a look and see when, over the course of two novels and twelve stories, Holmes' involvement has prevented an innocent man, or woman, going to jail or even to the gallows. In other words, how many times so far has he prevented and avoided a
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A Study in Scarlet: this is the first time we meet Holmes, but there is no confusion here, and no innocent party arrested for something they did not do. The right man is caught, even if we can laud his motives. Though Arthur Charpentier is arrested, it's not Holmes who is the agency of his release, but the murder of Stangerson while Charpentier is in police custody, so that's a no-brainer and the great detective has nothing to do with it.

The Sign of the Four: The first time Holmes saves an innocent man possibly going to the gallows for murder, as he proves Thaddeus Sholto is not responsible for his brother's death. So that's one.

Nothing then for "A Scandal in Bohemia" (no arrest, no real crime or police involvement), "The Red-Headed League" (right men arrested) or "A Case of Identity" (no arrest, no prosecutable crime). One so far then.

We hit paydirt with "The Boscombe Valley Mystery", where Holmes successfully prevents James McCarthy being hanged for the murder of his father, so that's two, but he fails entirely to save John Openshaw in "The Five Orange Pips", and also is cheated of his attempt to bring the guilty parties to justice. Can you include "The Man with the Twisted Lip"? It's certain that, one way or another, even if Holmes had not discovered his deception, Neville St. Clair would have eventually revealed his true identity rather than hang for his own murder, so no, I think this would have come to light with or without him. Probably just have taken longer. We remain at two.

"The Blue Carbuncle". Here he does take an active hand in showing the police they have the wrong man when they arrest John Horner, and while he allows the guilty man to go free, it would still have been a miscarriage of justice had Horner been imprisoned for something he did not do, so that's three we're up to. Nothing in "The Speckled Band" though, as there was, up to the time he and Watson arrived, no crime and nobody arrested.

In "The Engineer's Thumb", we know who is guilty but they get away and nobody else is arrested, but in "The Noble Bachelor" Flora Miller is arrested for the supposed murder of Hattie Moran, so without Holmes she probably would have been tried for that crime, making it four miscarriages of justice he has so far prevented. Then, in "The Beryl Coronet" Holmes again intervenes to ensure Arthur is not mistakenly charged with the theft of the gemstones, so that's five. Finally we have "The Copper Beeches", but there's nobody arrested for that.

So out of, altogether at this point, fourteen stories (including novels) Sherlock Holmes has prevented the long arm of the law from grasping - and holding - the wrong collar, and the often unbalanced scales of British justice from tilting in the wrong direction, and sending five innocent people either to jail or the rope. That's just short of a third of the investigations he's been involved in thus far. A good start, and this number will only increase as we delve deeper into his adventures.

Whatever else may be said of him, Sherlock Holmes can certainly be called the friend, indeed often the last hope or the last court of appeal for the innocent man or woman wrongly arrested.

Title: "Silver Blaze"
Year first published: December 1892
Type: Short story
Chronology: 13th story story, 1st in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, 15th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; King's Pyland, Dartmoor; Mapleton, Dartmoor; Winchester
Date: Unknown, but early morning on a Thursday
The crime or the mystery: The disappearance of the horse Silver Blaze and the murder of its trainer
The time (if given): Early morning

The Players
The client: Colonel Ross, owner of Silver Blaze
The victim(s): John Straker, the Colonel's groom and Silver Blaze's trainer (also Silver Blaze, though the horse has only vanished)
The accused or suspected: Fitzroy Simpson, a tout
The arrested: Fitzroy Simpson
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Gregory
The advocate(s): Holmes and Watson
The real culprit(s): John Straker/Silver Blaze (and to some extent Silas Brown)
Others: Edit Baxter, maid at King's Pyland; Silas Brown, rival trainer at Mapleton; Hunter, stable boy at King's Pyland; Mrs. Straker

The clues: A blunt knife in Mason's possession, a red scarf also in his possession, the drugging of the stable boy, lame sheep
The red herring(s): Simpson's cravat
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: Two really: when Holmes discovers the tracks leading to Mapleton he knows where the horse is, and when he finds the bill in Straker's pocket he has a good idea of what's going on. In ways though, there isn't one single breakthrough; this is one of those cases where the details only dawn slowly on Holmes.
The result: Silver Blaze is returned to his owner, and the murder is seen to have been accidental and indeed deserved.

Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

As they speed towards Exeter on the train, Holmes calculates the train's speed by utilising his knowledge of the distance between telegraph poles. The calculation, he tells his friend, is a simple one.

Before the case

Not much; Holmes has been reading about it in the papers for a while and Watson is not at all surprised that he soon afterwards decides they must go to Dartmoor to investigate. He admits, in a rare example of either bad judgement or overconfidence in the solving of the case, that he delayed going down to Dartmoor till today, Thursday, though he was invited by Inspector Gregory on the Tuesday, because he was sure the horse would turn up. When he hears that  things have taken a turn for the worse and someone has been arrested for the murder of John Straker, Holmes decides it is time to step in and accept the invitation.

Synopsis:

After the disappearance of Silver Blaze, the favourite for the Wessex Cup, owned by Colonel Ross, and the murder of the horse's trainer, John Mason, Holmes sets out for Dartmoor to begin his investigation. Although not asked to accompany him, as he normally is, Watson offers his services and Holmes is delighted to accept. He outlines the case to Watson, telling him that the horse is so prized by the colonel that a lad slept in the stable with him at all times, and he was allowed no drink. The staff is small, consisting of about five people and four horses, and as she brought down the stable-lad's meal to him, a dish of curried mutton, the maid, Edith Baxter, was approached by a man who claimed he had become lost. His true intent became apparent though as he tried to bribe her to give him tips on Silver Blaze. She alerted the stable boy, Hunter, who chased him out, but the tout, one Fitzroy Simpson, seemed to have emptied a small packet he had been carrying into the boy's meal.

The next morning Hunter was found fast asleep and the horse gone, but this did not raise the alarm quite yet, as Straker had told his wife he was going down to check on the horses in the early hours of the morning, and may have taken Silver Blaze out. What did raise the alarm was the discovery, first of Straker's overcoat, caught on a bush, and then his body in a depression on the moor. Of the horse there was no sign. Straker's head had been bashed in by some heavy object, and there was a gash in his thigh, looking to have been made by a knife or some sharp instrument. In his dead hand was a knife covered in blood, and in the other hand a silk cravat which was soon identified as belonging to Simpson, who was summarily arrested.

Things look black for the tout, Holmes observes dryly. He has amassed bets of five thousand pounds against Silver Blaze, has admitted to drugging the stable boy but is unable to account for the reason his cravat has been found in the dead man's hand. His stick is a good heavy one which could easily have inflicted the wounds, and his clothes show signs of having been out in the bad weather of the previous night. One small point in his favour, Holmes notes, is that there is no mark upon him where John Straker's knife would have been expected to have made a wound, considering it was covered in blood when found in his hand.

On arriving at the station Holmes and Watson are met by Colonel Ross and Inspector Gregory. They are taken to see the personal effects of John Straker, found on him when he was killed. They include some interesting items, like a special knife Watson identifies as a cataract knife, which Holmes muses is an odd thing for anyone other than a doctor to be carrying, some tallow and a note from a milliner for a rather expensive outfit., made out to a William Derbyshire. The Inspector tells Holmes that he has been told the Derbyshires are friends of the Strakers, and that their correspondence sometimes gets mixed up.

On meeting the widow Straker, Holmes makes a show of having met her at a garden party, but she denies ever having seen him. He presses, describing a silk dress she apparently wore, but she contends she does not own such a dress, and so Holmes apologises and they go to see the scene of the crime. Holmes notes that the overcoat was not blown against the bush, as there was no wind the previous night, but placed there, and then discovers a spent vesta (match?) on the ground. He then follows a trail of the horse's hoofprints, which the inspector had not seen, until it leads him to the gates of Mapleton, the rival stable. Here he speaks to the owner, Silas Brown, whose initial brusque and unfriendly, even threatening manner changes after Holmes has had a quiet word with him. Holmes and Watson return to King's Pyland, Holmes very pleased with himself.

He is, however, somewhat displeased with the way the colonel has spoken to him, sneering and condescending, seeing the great detective apparently no closer to finding his valuable horse than is Scotland Yard, so he decides, though he has solved the mystery in its entirety, to have some fun with the owner. He tells Ross he and Watson will be returning to London, and the colonel again sneers, thinking he has given up. Taking a photograph of Straker, Holmes goes to see the maid before they leave, then as they do, he tells Ross to keep his horse's name in the race, that he believes it will run. He then advises Gregory to take note of the curious incident of the dog in the night time. The inspector points out that the dog did nothing in the night time, and Holmes chuckles that that is what is so curious about it.

Four days later they are back at the race, and Colonel Ross is, if anything, grumpier and colder than ever, his horse not having turned up yet, despite Holmes' assurances to him, and despite being named in the race. When a bay horse passes by in his colours, Ross snarls that that is not his horse: it's nothing like Silver Blaze. But Holmes, with a knowing look, suggests he see how he does. The horse runs well and wins, and the colonel, though happy to win, wonders what horse has won the race for him. Holmes shows him that by sponging the bay horse down, he will discover Silver Blaze beneath, and the colonel is astonished, apologising for ever having doubted the detective.

He remarks, however, that it is a shame they will never know who murdered John Straker, but here too Holmes comes up trumps, telling the colonel he has the murderer in front of him. Dismayed, agog, the colonel watches as he points to Silver Blaze. He then tells how he has discovered that Straker had been living a double life, keeping two families, this William Derbyshire, whose account for dresses was found in his pocket, none other than he, and that in order to satisfy and pay for his other wife's expensive tastes, he had taken it into his head to hobble Silver Blaze, so that he would lose the race, but the horse had kicked out at him and stove his head in. The blood on the knife in his hand was his own, where he had gashed his own thigh as the horse struck out and he fell back, and the cravat, belonging to Fitzroy Simpson, had simply been lost by the man in his flight, and had been found and used by Straker to try to tie down the horse's leg.

The curious incident of the dog in the night-time shows Holmes that Straker had gone into the stables, drugged Hunter - he and his wife being the only ones who knew curried mutton, the only dish capable of disguising the sharp taste of powdered opium, was being served, and able to drug only the stable-boy's portion - and taken the horse without the dog barking, as it knew Straker well. The trainer had taken Silver Blaze out onto the moor because he needed solitude to be able to nick the horse's leg; it would have made too much noise in the stable and woken everyone up. This, too, was why he needed the candle and the matches. He had thrown his coat on the bush as it was in his way as he tried to make the cut.

Holmes had already established that the expensive dress on the receipt found in Straker's pocket was not for his wife, and so  had taken his photograph to the milliner whose address was on the receipt, and confirmed that he and Derbyshire were one and the same.

After the case N/A

How the case is solved:

Holmes already has reservations about Fitzroy Simpson's guilt, seeing several points which do not add up. He discounts him as a suspect and concentrates on Straker, putting all the pieces together, from the items found in Straker's pockets showing he was supporting two wives, or one wife and a mistress, to the tracks leading up to Mapleton, and his subsequent chat with Brown. Although he has everything sorted before he leaves, he wishes to teach the colonel a lesson in humility, and so does a sort of "showman" expose later. Colonel Ross will not doubt him again, and his fame will continue to spread across England and Europe.

Comments:

It's a very clever story, and manages to misdirect you pretty well. The first time I read it, I assumed (being led in that direction by Doyle) that Silas Brown was the one responsible, but in a pretty masterful piece of storytelling, Brown is one culprit, yes, but not the murderer. It's quite a coup for Doyle to be able to show us the murder was not a murder, nor could it be called manslaughter either; it was simply the reaction of a skittish animal which believed it was in danger. One wonders how much Straker's wife knew about the plan, if at all? It's not made clear, and no charges are shown to have been brought against her, but is it possible she knew what her husband was doing? If so, why would she have thought he would do such a thing? She certainly did not know about the "other woman".

We also assume Fitzroy Simpson is released from custody, though this isn't dealt with either, and Scotland Yard's rush to judgement without having all the facts and a watertight case shows again the eagerness of the police to solve the case, any way they can, even if questions are left unanswered. Gregory is completely clueless as to the whereabouts of Silver Blaze, but is happy that he has been able to lay his hands on the murderer of the horse's trainer. He disappoints Holmes in this, taking the easy way out even if there are gaps in his case, though he does impress him in other ways.

I have to be honest, I know little about horses but I feel it's unlikely you could just paint one a different shade (go on, say it: horse of a different colour. Feel better now? Good: let's go on) just ike that. I imagine paint or whatever they used on Silver Blaze would not only run and flake, not least due to the horse's sweating, but would irritate the horse too, and even cause some damage. I doubt the colonel will have been too happy to have had his prize thoroughbred subjected to such treatment.

I think it's also fair to note that, had this story been written today, doubts would have arisen immediately about Straker's supposed "murder", as forensic blood tests and DNA would have shown that the blood was his own. Luckily, I guess, for Doyle, he didn't have to contend with that at the end of the nineteenth century: they were barely getting to grips with using fingerprints.

This story has also become famous as the lodestone for the idea of a dog that does not bark, which will, I believe, be used by him again in a later story, but the phrase "The curious incident of the dog in the night" (which might have even made a better title) tends to be used a lot now when such things alert various cops and detectives that the culprit is a known quantity.

Character Study

John Straker: A man who, though he has been over ten years in the service of Colonel Ross, and is a trusted trainer and ex-jockey, has got himself in over his head by having to keep another woman, whose tastes are bleeding him dry. He takes advantage of his position of trust and hopes to capitalise on betting against the horse, but his plan goes badly awry and costs him his life. For a short while, he's seen as a kind of hero, a man who tried to prevent the kidnapping of Silver Blaze, but soon enough he is exposed for the traitor he is.

Colonel Ross: A man devoted to horse-racing, the sport of kings, and highly upset that his favourite has vanished. I think it would be fair to say he's more worried about getting the horse back than he is about finding out who killed his trainer. Initially warm and welcoming to Holmes, his opinion of him soon changes as hope fades and Holmes does not provide a miracle solution, and he becomes bitter and recriminatory, having to take it all back when Holmes shows that he has in fact everything under control.

Better than you

Although Holmes praises much of Inspector Gregory's work, and predicts a great career for him in the Yard ("if only he had imagination!") he nevertheless tsks at how easily the inspector gives up tracing the tracks of the horse, which he himself picks up after Watson and him have worked out the direction the animal would have gone, and pick up the trail. He does, however, excuse the fact that Gregory missed the match (again, I'm assuming a Vesta is a make of match?) as he says he only found it because he was looking for it. Nonetheless, he points out - to Watson only - various flaws in Gregory's theory, including how Simpson could have known curried mutton was to have been served for dinner, how he got the horse out of the stables without a  key and why he would have left his cravat at the scene. And most important of all, how he would have handled a horse, having no experience in doing so, and where he might have taken it, not being familiar with the area.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

The favourite for the Wessex Cup, Silver Blaze, goes missing four days before the big race, and his trainer is found murdered. Holmes investigates and finds out that John Straker, the dead trainer, had another woman and that he had been attempting to nobble the horse in order to win big. The horse had kicked out at him and bashed in his head, then run off and been caught by the owner of a rival stable, who had taken him and disguised him. Holmes is able to return Silver Blaze to his owner, after he has won the race.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 18

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 1 (John Straker)
Total: 1
Running total: 7

Famous Firsts

I think this may be the first time Watson invites himself along on a case, rather than being requested or even summoned by Holmes, or it being assumed he will accompany him.

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Oh yes. The colonel has to eat humble pie, but is delighted not only to have his horse back (and that it wins the race) but to have the treachery of John Straker uncovered too.

Self-referentials N/A

Legal outcome (if any):

Other than the presumed release of the wrongly-arrested Fitzroy Simpson, and the cancellation of a murder enquiry when the method of Straker's death is, again presumably, as there is no mention of Gregory having been advised of the result of the case, communicated to Scotland Yard, none seems necessary. The thief is dead, the man who held and disguised Silver Blaze has been kept out of the affair thanks to Holmes, and everyone is happy.
:4stars:

Note: Though originally the next published story was "The Adventure of the Cardboard Box", this was not included in the British versions of The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, and quickly removed from the American publication, due to its controversial and somewhat brutal nature, as well as its depiction of adultery, not something that fit in to Doyle's Victorian society. Generally, it is included in His Last Bow, so I had originally decided that would be where we should encounter it, however I (f)ear (sorry) I may forget about it by the time I reach that collection and so I'm now writing about it here, essentially as it was originally published.

Title: "The Cardboard Box"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 14th Holmes short story; 2nd in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes; 16th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Cross Street, Croydon; New Street, Wallington;
Date: A Friday in August
The crime or the mystery: A pair of severed ears are received by a lady in a box (that is, the ears are in a box, not the lady)
The time (if given): Around noon


The Players
The client: Miss Susan Cushing, a spinster (as such; she doesn't hire Holmes, and indeed has nothing to do with the case, but it is through her that he first becomes aware of it)
The victim(s): Mary Browner nee Cushing, Susan's sister; Alec Fairbairn, a sailor, her lover
The accused or suspected: None; the thing is taken by the police as being a practical joke by medical students with an axe to grind
The arrested: Jim Browner, a sailor and husband to Mary
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Lestrade
The advocate(s): Holmes
The real culprit(s): Jim Browner
Others: Sarah Cushing, middle sister and instigator of the plot in a way

The clues: The box was tied with tarred twine and a very specific knot; a smell of coffee from the box; the town of Croydon originally misspelt, showing the writer was unfamiliar with the place; the ears bear no marks of preservative fluid (presumably formaldehyde, though it's not named), which negates the theory of them having been cut from a corpse by medical students, nor have they been cut with the sharp surgical instrument a student of medicine would be expected to use, but a blunt object. All of this points to this being far from a joke.
The red herring(s): Miss Cushing's prior association with medical students, leading the police to proceed along the wrong trail
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: Kind of when Holmes gets the reply to his telegram advising the whereabouts of Jim Browner
The result: Arrest of Browner


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

His rather unbelievable following of Watson's thoughts, based purely on the movements of his eyes and his friend's expressions

Before the case

Holmes and Watson are sweltering in the August heat, Watson thinking about the American Civil War, Holmes amazing him by divining almost his exact thoughts. Holmes then points out to him an article in the newspaper detailing a "most gruesome packet" sent to a woman in Croydon. The packet apparently contained a pair of severed ears, and has been treated as a practical joke, though Holmes is dubious and thinks it portends something much darker.

Synopsis:

Having read the above account, Holmes asks Watson to accompany him to the lady's house in Croydon. Susan Cushing is an older, retired lady who has no idea why anyone would send her such a horrible package, but Holmes quickly ascertains that the ears are from two different people - a man and a woman - and that this is no joke or trick. Identifying from photographs that the lady has two sisters, and that one of them appears to be involved with a steward - and that, further, one of them is called Sarah - he begins to formulate a theory. When he hears that Susan Cushing seems to have been involved with the steward - one Jim Browner - but that they quarrelled and he married the other sister, Mary, he becomes even more excited. Browner is said to have a drinking problem and like most alcoholics, gets violent when he drinks. Susan Cushing says she has lost touch with her sister Mary, and does worry about her.

Susan goes on to tell Holmes that her other sister, Sarah, had gone to Liverpool to be with Mary and her husband, but that they had not got on and she had had to leave. They go to where Sarah is said to live now, but a man - presumably a doctor - greets them at the door and tells them they can't possibly see her, that she is very ill. At the police station, Holmes receives an answer to a telegram he had sent earlier and says he now knows everything. He writes a name on the back of a card and tells Lestrade he may arrest the man, but not until tomorrow; he asks for his name to be kept out of the case, as, he says, it presented little difficulty to him and is not worthy to bear his stamp.

The ears turn out to belong to Susan's younger sister, Mary and her beau, a sailor called Alec Fairbairn. It transpires that the middle sister, Sarah, having come to live with Jim Browner and his wife, Mary (nee Cushing) caused untold misery by falling for Jim, but he was having none of it. In revenge Sarah turned Mary's mind against her husband - especially as he had again taken to drink - and when a dashing sailor, a friend of Sarah's by the  name of Alec Fairbairn came into the picture, Jim Browner knew he had lost his wife. He furiously ordered Sarah out of their house, and Fairbairn too, and warned that if he did not leave then he, Jim, would send Sarah one of his ears as a keepsake. Frightened, she left, but in defiance set up house a few doors down from the Browners and let lodgings to sailors.

To her house again Fairbairn came, and soon Mary was visiting him there. When Jim found out about it he threatened both with death, frightening his wife and proving to himself there was no longer any love between the couple. His excessive drinking did not help matters. Sarah, her work done apparently, went home to Croydon, to live with her elder sister. Browner, meanwhile, came home from a voyage to find his wife again in the company of Fairbairn. He followed them till he saw them take a boat and go out on the lake, then struck when they were on the water, killing both and then taking an ear off each and sending it to, as he thought, Sarah, though she was no longer living with her sister, so it was Susan who received the grisly package.


After the case

Nothing really. Holmes reads both the note from Lestrade (in which, in addition to confirming he has picked up Browner, the inspector makes out that he knew all along what Holmes knew, and that it was a joint effort, which makes Holmes snort, but then, he has asked not to be associated with the case) and also Browner's confession, which explains it all in detail.

How the case is solved:

Once Holmes has established that it is after all not a joke (as he had assumed it was not anyway, despite the police thinking so) he realises that the ear of Susan Cushing is almost identical to that in the box (the female one anyway) so that it must be from her sister. Looking into Jim Browner's details he's able to ascertain the man is a violent drunk, and hearing of Sarah's passion for meddling and causing trouble he conjectures that the middle sister has been involved, and this is why the package has been sent to S. Cushing, but intended for Sarah, not Susan. Although she was living with her elder sister, Sarah was kicked out by Susan as they found they could not live together.

It might, in fairness, be seen to be something of a logical leap too far for the master detective to have deduced all he did from scraps of information, but his theory turns out to be correct when Browner is arrested and confesses.

Comments:

This is an almost perfect example of how Holmes constructs not only a case, but a murder, out of almost thin air. While everyone else is shaking their heads at the "terrible practical joke" having been played on Susan Cushing, he is able to see past that, to understand this is no joke at all, and that a murder has been committed. Something in the same vein as "The Blue Carbuncle", this is a case that comes out of nowhere. Many of Holmes' cases are ongoing at the start of the story, or brought to him by a client, but this one happens almost accidentally. It's hard to believe that anyone else would have seen the clues Holmes does, and figured out what was going on. As much as any other story, this one really shows Holmes at his very best, a well-oiled machine performing its task with no care as to what others think, or how unlikely they believe his theories to be.

It's an incredibly well-constructed story, with all the parts fitting together smoothly, whereas initially they're like a jumbled pile of jigsaw pieces without a picture. Layer on layer, the story is built up, until the awful truth is laid before us. It's a masterclass in what Holmes calls "trifles" being slotted into the proper place, not ignored as others (i.e., Lestrade) have done, and creating a picture out of almost smoke. It must be annoying for Holmes the tone that Lestrade takes in his note, making out that he had everything in hand and that Holmes just helped him, but then he's used to that by now.

I would say that this is the first, perhaps only story in the Holmes canon that has so many prominent female characters in it. In fact, other than the murderer himself and one of the victims, all other elements are female. The main victim, her sister (almost an accessory before the fact, surely?) and the final sister, to whom the box is sent. The twin themes of adultery and violence against women, allied to that of strife within a family of sisters leading to jealousy and eventually murder, gives a good idea why this was pulled so quickly when originally published. In yet another stroke of misogyny, Doyle makes Browner almost exempt from his crime, blaming it on both the drink and the behaviour of his wife (she drove him to it) as well as serving up a healthy dose of culpability for Sarah. He does admit that he's to blame, but even so it's a weak admission, almost as if he had no choice, read, she had it coming to her, read, it was her fault. Poor, man, poor.

But let's look at that first part of the excuse. All too often, certainly in Victorian literature, violence by males is blamed on drink. At least Dickens accepts that sometimes violent men are just violent men. Fagin doesn't drink - well, not to excess. David Copperfield's foster father never touches the stuff, but can beat a child, and the master and mistress is Nicholas Nickelby are evil and sadistic enough without needing drink as an excuse. And anyway, coming back to this story, when Browner accosts his wife and her lover he appears to be sober: he has just come off ship, so has had no time to spend in the pub (at least, we're not told he did) and so he commits the murder not due to drink, or being drunk, but completely clear-headed, in total control of his faculties, and in perhaps not cold blood, but it's not a moment of sudden passion. He's known, in his heart of hearts, that this is going to happen and he's been mentally preparing for it. After all, if not, why did he make the threat to Sarah about the ears, and if he's not in his own mind at the time of the killing how is he so lucid as to remember that threat, and act upon it?

No. Drink is not to blame. So is Mary? Does she bring her own death, and that of her lover, upon herself by being faithless? Doyle is careful to show us that Browner, despite his trouble with drink, does not succumb to Sarah's advances, as he could have done. This then gives him the moral high ground when he decides to deal with his unfaithful wife, and in the eyes of Victorian society - if not the law - almost makes him blameless: the man was driven to it by a wife who would not behave. The lesson? Women should know their place and remain there, and if they dare to step outside of the bounds of marriage, the grave shall be their reward. Nice.

Character Study

Susan Cushing: An elderly, retired and retiring lady who lives alone, though her sister, Sarah, used to live with her. She is most aghast to receive the box, has no idea who might have sent it or why, but she does prove to be a fount of knowledge at which Holmes can drink his fill and which helps him put the basic points of the case together.

Sarah Cushing: Middle sister, who takes a shine to Jim Browner but is rebuffed by him, and in a dark fury plots her revenge against him by turning her younger sister, his wife, against him and setting her up with a new lover. She comes across as a very selfish, indulgent woman who expects to have everything her own way, however in the end when she hears of the delivery of the package (to the wrong house) and knows it was for her, she succumbs to "brain fever". Whether or not she recovers we're not told, but if she does she must surely hold herself partially responsible for her baby sister's death.

Mary Browner: Youngest of the Cushing sisters, she is married to Jim Browner and comes under the influence of her older sister, Sarah, eventually turning against her husband in suspicion that he may be playing away (possibly with Sarah, a notion no doubt put in her head by her big sister) and disgusted by his return to drink. It doesn't say whether Jim gets violent with her, though I don't think so (until he kills her, of course) but she does end up taking up with a dashing young sailor whom she falls for, and with whom she is eventually murdered by her jealous husband.

Jim Browner: A man who believes he has put his drinking days behind him and is in love with Mary Cushing, whom he marries. Happy until Sarah comes to visit, then stay, and makes a pass at him. After this, when his wife begins to cool towards him, he blames Sarah and kicks her out. In the end though, his attempts to repair his marriage come to nothing when he comes home and finds Mary with Alec Fairbairn, and kills both. He says he is haunted by their faces, so that once arrested and once he confesses, it seems likely he will not last long.

Better than you

Here Holmes shows how vastly superior his intellect is to that of the police, and in particular to his old sparring partner, Lestrade. The inspector has, to be frank, no clue, and the entire mystery is uncovered and solved by Holmes. Without his help, Browner would have got away with it and the bodies of Mary Browner and Alec Fairbairn would never have been recovered. Susan Cushing would have been left wondering what had happened to her baby sister, while Sarah would have sickened further, knowing what had happened but unable to prove it. In true character though, Lestrade claims to have been "working with" Holmes all along, and takes the credit, even though the entire case - cause, solution and culprit - have been handed to him by Holmes.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

After a lady receives a most unpleasant package - two ears in a box - Holmes works out that they are the ears of two people who have been killed, murdered. In fact, he deduces correctly that one of the ears belongs to the lady's younger sister, and that it is her husband who is responsible for her murder and that of her lover. Lestrade is alerted and arrests the man, who confesses.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 10

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 2
Total: 2
Running total: 120

Famous Firsts None, other than this being the most female characters Doyle has assembled outside of a novel (or even in one).

Satisfied Customer(s)? In essence, yes, as Susan Cushing is - presumably - advised why she received the box and what has happened to her sister. Again, there is no actual client.

Self-referentials "The Sign of Four", "A Study in Scarlet"

Legal outcome (if any): Jim Browner arrested and charged with two murders, to which he confesses. The intimation is that he dies the next day, ostensibly of remorse and/or terror, as he says he is being haunted by the faces of the two people he has killed.
:4stars:

Title: "The Yellow Face"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 15th short story, 3rd in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, 17th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Park; Baker Street; Pinner, Middlesex; Norbury; Crystal Palace
Date: Spring (year unspecified)
The crime or the mystery: Whose is the face at the window, and what is the secret Grant's wife keeps from her husband?
The time (if given): After 5pm

The Players
The client: Grant Munro
The victim(s): None, really
The accused or suspected: His wife, Effie, to an extent
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): None
The advocate(s): Grant Munro (ish)
The real culprit(s): None
Others: John Hebron (deceased), first husband of Effie and father to Lucy; Lucy, his daughter by her; Scottish female nurse, unnamed.

The clues: A pale face at the window of the cottage, a photograph of Munro's wife, her strange and evasive behaviour
The red herring(s): Everything
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: None
The result: An innocent child reunited with her mother and her husband


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

Holmes deduces that the pipe left behind by their client is of great value to the man, as it has been mended twice, at a cost surely more than a new one would have run to. He also notes that the owner is left-handed, muscular, with a good set of teeth, careless in his habits and quite well off. That he is relatively rich is evident from the brand of tobacco in the pipe, that he is left-handed is proven by the bowl of the pipe being charred on the right; Holmes observes that the man lights his pipe under lamps, and holds the side he is not lighting towards the flame, meaning he leans in to the left, making him left-handed. Finally, the fact that the amber in the pipe has been bitten through shows both that he is strong and has a good set of teeth. Careless in his habits is, I guess, obvious from the fact that he left his prized pipe behind.

Before the case

Holmes and Watson are out walking in the park. When they return the page tells them a man came to visit them, but was impatient and did not wait, saying he would return later. While they wait, Holmes examines the pipe the main left behind (see above)

Synopsis:

Grant Munro, a merchant in hops, asks Holmes to help him. His wife, Effie, has some dark secret she is keeping from him, and it is coming between them, even though he knows she still loves him. He tells Holmes her interesting history. She was married in the USA, in Atlanta, but her husband and child died of yellow fever, and she came back to England. She had been left a good legacy and was well off when he met her. Since then they have been in love; in fact, Effie had put all her money in her husband's name, on the understanding that if she ever needed it she had but to ask. Six weeks ago, he tells them, she came to him to ask for a hundred pounds. Somewhat aghast at her need for such a large sum, the more so that she declined to tell him what it was for, he handed over the money, as he had said he would, without further questions.

On taking his usual stroll down past the unoccupied cottage that was in their area, Munro was surprised to see evidence of someone having  moved in, and decided to have a nosey, as you do. He was then shocked by the face which appeared at the window and looked out. He says it looked unnatural, a kind of chalky white and rigid, but that when its owner saw him it disappeared, and on approaching the door he was turned away by a very rude Scottish woman. That night he awoke to catch his wife going out, at three in the morning, and looking very furtive and afraid. When she returned she gave him some story about needing air, but he could tell she was lying, covering something up.

Things were tense the next day, and he went for a walk down by the cottage. Imagine his surprise, he tells Holmes and Watson, when his wife walked out! He accosted her, and she again made some excuse, btu he knew she was not telling the truth, and determined to investigate the matter, at which she became frantic, holding him back. She was so in earnest that he agreed, as long as she promised not to visit the cottage again, which she swore she would not do. Nevertheless, a few days later he came home early and she was gone, and he knew where. He went after her, and so did the maid, legging it across the fields to warn her, so he knew something was up.

Arriving at the cottage he burst in, but the place was empty. He did, however, see a photograph of his wife, taken only three months ago, in the room wherein he had seen the strange face appear. Now it seemed clear: his wife had a lover, or some sort of dark secret, and he must have it from her or go mad, even if it ruined their marriage. She has refused to speak of it, saying she cannot, and a dark shadow has grown between them.

Without any actual evidence so far, Holmes does something he almost never does: comes to a conclusion and states it to Watson. This is done, of course, in the context of the story to show how for once he has got it totally and absolutely wrong. His theory is that the face at the window is that of Effie's first husband, who is not dead (she produced a death certificate, but for all Munro knows, that could refer to anyone) who is blackmailing her, perhaps with an accomplice, the woman who answered the door, probably. Effie has taken a hundred pounds from her husband to try to buy them off, but this has not worked. What exactly they're blackmailing her over is left in doubt, a rare hole in Holmes' logic, even if he were correct, which he is not. She has already told Grant that she was previously married, so that will not be a surprise to him, though if the first husband is still alive I suppose that could be viewed as bigamy?

Anyway, they get a telegram from Munro to say the cottage is still occupied - the tenants obviously ushered outside by Effie in an attempt to evade discovery by her husband - and they meet him there. As they approach the cottage, his wife is again there and begs him not to enter, but he will not be stopped. Running upstairs, he finds a child in the room, her face covered with a mask. Taking off the mask he sees she is black. Now things begin to fall into place. This is Effie's child with her first husband - who was obviously black and who is also obviously dead - who had been sick but who had recovered three years ago. She sent the money to the old woman, the Scottish one, who had been acting as her nurse in Atlanta, to enable her to come to her, though she knew how hard it would be. Now that her secret is out, she fears Munro will leave her, but he does not; embracing the child and his wife, they all go back home.

After the case

Nothing, other than Holmes wryly asks Watson to remind him of this case, in which he was so far off the beam he wasn't even in the  picture, if he ever gets too complacent or arrogant again. Let it serve as a warning that even the most finely-tuned mind does not get it right every single time.

How the case is solved:

It isn't; Holmes gets everything wrong, is completely on the wrong track, and would probably never have figured it out anyway. One of his very few failures.

Comments:

I just love this story. Like I imagine everyone who read it at first, I thought Holmes was on the right track, and I was as surprised and delighted as anyone when it had a happy ending. Hell, I tear up every time I read it, and this is no exception. One of the few Holmes stories that has a happy ending, where nobody dies (who wasn't already dead), nobody goes to prison and nobody loses anything, in fact Effie gains both a daughter she could never lay claim to and a better understanding of the kind of man her husband is. You have to imagine though that they will have a hard time, bringing up a black child in rural England, both of them white. Effie is going to be subject to gossip and nasty conjecture, and maybe in the end the rumours and accusations may tear the couple apart, but then, it's just a story and it ends here, and you'd like to think that if it was real, if they can get over such a huge hurdle, then they can stay together.

It's interesting to read a story where Holmes is completely wrong. He wasn't even close, and it's good for the character that he's shown to be human at times, that he's not like Superman, that he sometimes gets it wrong, and, more, that he can embrace that weakness in him, that reminder that he is not all-powerful. It can only help him in the future, acknowledging with humility his mistakes, and wondering, too, no doubt, what would have happened had he put his suspicions into practice and made a total mess of things?

One point I'm not clear on: why does Effie keep calling her husband Jack, when his name is Grant? Is this some sort of catch-all name used by women for men, even if this is not their name? Or is his name maybe Grant John Munro? I'm asking, as it is never explained or even touched on, but it would seem to me to be either a glaring - and very much repeated - error, or something that needs explanation or clarification.

Character Study

Grant Munro: A good and decent man, who worries when his wife starts acting strangely, and is driven to the conclusion that she has another man, the clues certainly seeming to support that. It's clear he loves his wife, as he acquiesces initially to her plea not to ask about her secret, but when she breaks the promise she makes him in return, not to revisit the cottage (and how could she not?) he loses it and barges in to find the place empty. However in the end he remains a decent man, taking on another man's child, and a black one at that.
Score: 10

Effie Munro: Returned from America, where her husband had died (she says of yellow fever but I wonder? We're talking Atlanta here, the deep south, just after the Civil War, if this is meant to be a contemporary account. And is not yellow fever contagious and fatal?) she has already proven herself to be a strong and faithful woman, marrying outside of her race in one of the most deeply racist states in America, and when she returns does all she can to keep the existence of her child secret from her husband, both to protect her and to avoid the risk of losing him. A fine woman, upstanding, proud and true, and a wonderful and loving mother.

Better than you

Not this time. Holmes has no inspector to cross swords with, but even so he's completely wrong.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

After his wife starts acting oddly, Grant Munro sees a strange yellow face at the window of the just recently-occupied cottage. His wife seems to know something about it but will not tell him, and he tries to get in but the place is empty. Later he finds out that the yellow face is a child, a black child, his wife's daughter with her first husband, who has died. Relieved, and happy, he takes them both home. Holmes' theories turn out to be completely wrong, for once.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 18

The Holmes Body Count

Direct:
Indirect:
Incidental:
Historical: 1 (John Hebron, Effie's first husband and father to Lucy)
Total:
Running total: 7

Famous Firsts

The first time Holmes is totally wrong, the first time there is no actual crime involved, nor anyone jailed.

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Not really. Well, kind of. Munro is the customer and he is happy to find out that the secret his wife has been keeping from him is that she has a black daughter, but then again, Holmes has no part in clearing this up. If anything, he muddies the waters and supports Munro's concerns. So on the whole, no I don't think so.

Self-referentials None

Legal outcome, if any: None
:5stars:

Title: "The Stock-broker's Clerk"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 16th short story, 4th in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes (see note preceding "The Cardboard Box"), 18th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Paddington; Baker Street; Corporation Street
Date: June (year unspecified, but just after Watson's marriage, so must be around 1889, as he was married after September, therefore this must be the following year, at the earliest)
The crime or the mystery: Who this Pinner is and why he has offered Hall Pycroft a job when his company seems barely able to furnish one small room.
The time (if given): Morning, just after breakfast (maybe 8 or 9 am?)

The Players
The client: Hall Pycroft, stockbroker's clerk
The victim(s): Hall Pycroft
The accused or suspected: Arthur Pinner, "Financial agent"
The arrested: The brothers Beddington
The investigating officer(s): None
The advocate(s): None
The real culprit(s): The brothers Beddington
Others:

The clues: A sample of Pycroft's writing being procured, an empty office, a gold filling in each man's tooth
The red herring(s): None
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: Clerk looking for work
The breakthrough: None really
The result: The crime is only revealed after "Pinner", actually Beddington, tries to kill himself.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

That Watson has been suffering from a summer cold, the evidence being that his slippers are slightly scorched from his having had his feet in front of the fire. Also that of the two medical practices, Watson got the better, as the steps to his are worn down more than those of his neighbour.

Before the case

Watson relates that he has bought the practice of another doctor, who has fallen ill, and has got it at a very good price too. It is said to be in Paddington. He has, the previous night, been going over his collection of Holmes' cases, and therefore is delighted to see his old friend visit with a case on his mind. They're soon both off to Birmingham, Holmes' client already in the carriage.

Synopsis:

The client is a Mr. Hall Pycroft (now isn't that just one letter short of being Sherlock's brother?) and he explains how, having lost his job at a stockbroker's, he was desperate and down to his last shilling when he managed to secure another one at a company called Mawson & Williams, and at better pay. Delighted, he was preparing for his first morning at the office when a man called Arthur Pinner (and wasn't this the name of the aunt to whom Effie went after returning from America in the last story?) was shown up. Pinner seemed to have heard of him, and declared he was too good for the job he had been given; Pinner would provide him a much better one. He says he is in charge of a huge hardware concern, and will make Pycroft regional manager. His brother, Harry, is also on the board.

Pycroft has never heard of the company, but it seems too good an opportunity to pass up, so when Pinner tells him not to bother letting Mawson's know that he will not be turning up for work, telling him that he had words with the manager there about him, and they were not at all complimentary. He also asks Mycroft sorry Pycroft to sign something which says he will be happy to work for him. He is to meet Pinner's brother tomorrow in Birmingham, where the formalities will be concluded and he may take over his new position.

When he meets Harry Pinner, he is told the company is only getting its offices organised, and indeed he is shown into what could really be called a bare room: two chairs, one table, a ledger and a bin. But Harry tells him not to despair; there's plenty of money behind the company, Things being not yet ready, he says, for Pycroft to take up his position, he is to take the Paris telephone directory home and mark out the hardware sellers in the area. When he returns on Monday he is not finished, not even close, and Harry Pinner tells him to keep at it till Wednesday. As he laughs, Pycroft notices that his tooth has a gold filling, something he has also noticed his brother having. He now realises that the two men look so alike - one with a beard, the other without, but otherwise identical, that they are the same man. Holmes appears to have come to the same conclusion, and congratulates the broker on his deduction.

But now the question is: why did one man ask for a note for his so-called brother, from Pycroft, when it was essentially a note to himself? And why did he send Pycroft from London to Birmingham? Holmes and Watson decide to pose as clerks looking for work, so as to get a better look at Pinner - whichever Christian name he's using - and Pycroft introduces them, or tries to. As they approach the temporary offices, they see the man calling himself Harry Pinner rush over the street, take a newspaper and hurry back into the building. They follow him in and find him sitting at his table with the newspaper spread out before him and looking as if his life is at an end.

And it is. After speaking to them in a hurried manner, like someone who wishes they would just go and leave him to his business, he vanishes into the inner room. Pycroft confirms to Holmes and Watson that there is no exit, so when he does not emerge and they hear a knocking sound they rush in to find the man hanged on the back of the door. They manage to save him, and call the police. As they wait, Holmes tells the two what he has deduced. The idea of getting Pycroft to write the note was so that Pinner could get a sample of his handwriting, in order to be able to send his confederate to Mawsons, where they were planning a robbery. Masquerading as Hall Pycroft - who had never been seen in Mawsons and so nobody would realise it was not him - this criminal would rob the place, known to have over a million pounds in securities. Unable or unwilling to involve anyone else, Pinner had fulfilled the role of both "brothers" while his accomplice took over Pycroft's job.

His partner is a safecracker, and had intended to gain knowledge of the office by posing as Pycroft, make moulds of locks and keys and steal big money from the company. He is almost successful but a vigilant security guard catches him and he's arrested. The paper that Pinner then bought and which is spread out in front of him shows the headline telling of the failure of the enterprise and the capture of the criminal, Pinner's associate. Having read this, Pinner had despaired and hanged himself, knowing the jig was up.

After the case

Nothing really. Holmes and Watson stand guard over the defeated Pinner while Pycroft goes for the police. I guess he gets to keep the hundred pounds, although maybe they might want that as evidence. Unlikely, I suppose, to be able to take up his position at Mawsons, who, though it was not his fault or any of his doing, will probably not want him now.

How the case is solved:

Again, it kind of isn't. They've sussed that the two "brothers" are the same man, but when Holmes and Watson walk into the office with Pycroft and confront Pinner, they're really no closer to working out what the idea is behind his subterfuge. Holmes has deduced that Pycroft is being impersonated, but has no real idea why, and it is in fact Pinner who draws their attention to the paper, which Holmes had completely ignored and forgotten, an odd slip for him, but perhaps understandable considering the man had just tried to hang himself.

Comments:

I find this has some similarities to "The Red-headed League", in that Pycroft is fobbed off with excuses and lies, given pointless work to do in a company or establishment that does not exist, for the purpose of keeping him away from the scene of the intended crime, both involving a robbery. The story to me is a little weak. Sure, someone could learn to imitate someone's handwriting, but are we to assume that a forger and safecracker can pass as a skilled clerk in one of the largest broker firms in London? Is it not more likely that his appearance, his complete lack of experience with or understanding of the job would give him away? It's also the second time Holmes kind of fumbles the ball. As I say above, even with the shock of the attempted suicide, we would expect Holmes at this point to have wondered what had precipitated Pinner's rushing back into the office holding the newspaper, and his subsequent despair when they see him, to say nothing of his nervous manner. The paper is spread before him and his head is in his hands; how can Holmes not see this as important?

This story is however also important in that it gives us a small glimpse into the life of Dr. Watson sans Holmes. We learn that he has expanded his practice, buying out his neighbour, and that, despite his good and honest nature, he's not above getting the other practice at a knock-down price, possibly playing on the other doctor's poor health and need to sell. He also tells us that, though busy with now two surgeries, he yet yearns for the excitement and adventures he has shared with Holmes. One might say that to some degree he has become addicted to them. This shows later

Spoiler

, after Holmes' apparent death at the Reichenbach Falls, when for three years he has filled the role his old friend used to play, assisting the police whenever he can in cases in which Holmes would likely have been involved

[close]

. He may have been just a humble doctor when he met him, but his association with Sherlock Holmes has changed him forever, making him much more than the man who limped home from war to try to put together his shattered life.

Character Study

Hall Pycroft: I do wonder at the odd names Doyle gives his characters. I mean, Sherlock? Mycroft? Hall? John? Sorry. But he does use some very odd names. Mind you, so did his contemporary, Dickens. More, perhaps, on this when I have time. For now, Hall Pycroft is a pretty nondescript clerk, the kind of which there are ten a penny in London, and must feel it odd that a huge firm such as Mawsons wishes to hire him. It's never said how Pinner and his accomplice find out about his appointment, but from then on he's a dupe. He's not a fool though; he has enough sense to wonder how such a supposedly big and important company, which services, according to "Arthur" Pinner, over 130 depots, can have such a small office and how he can never have heard of them? The work given to him also raises his suspicions, and he's observant enough to notice that both men have the same gold filling, therefore they must be the same man.

Arthur/Harry Pinner: A man who is surely the brains behind the operation, posing as two different men, whom he claims are brothers, but apparently unaware that he has a gold filling which is a real giveaway. Again, I am unsure how he finds out about Pycroft's new position, nor how long this plan has been in effect, but he certainly puts a lot of work into it. Holmes remarks at the end that it is the fact that his real brother has been captured that makes him attempt suicide, but I disagree: after all, it's not as if the brother has been killed, only taken. I think he tries to hang himself because he knows the police will be coming for him, and he'd rather die than go back to jail.

Better than you

For the second story in a row, not this time. Holmes is all at sea. He has a vague idea that someone wants to impersonate Pycroft, but other than that he has not a clue. It's a rare lapse in his usually razor-sharp logical thinking that he misses the clues that are under his nose. Apart from that though, there is no involvement in the case by Scotland Yard, so there's nobody to be better than.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)
Holmes and Watson are approached by a man who has secured a position at a stockbroking firm, but was then approached by another man, offering him a better job. Suspicious of the rundown office and the odd behaviour of the man, Hall Pycroft calls Holmes in to try to see if he can figure it out. In the end, it turns out that his place at the new firm has been taken by the brother of the man who offered him the better job, in order that they can rob the place. The scheme is thwarted though and the robbery fails.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 7

The Holmes Body Count

Direct:
Indirect:
Incidental:
Historical:
Total: 0
Running total: 18

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Again I'd have to say no. It's possible Pycroft might have solved this case himself, just by following the clues. Holmes is not really much use here at all.

Self-referentials None, but as I say, the plot follows rather closely that of "The Red-headed League."

Legal outcome (if any): Both brothers are arrested and the planned robbery foiled. Interestingly, this all happens without any help or information from Holmes. It literally takes place (or rather, doesn't, as in, the crime is foiled) while he, Watson and Pycroft are on the way to Pinner's office.
:2.5stars:

Title: "The Gloria Scott"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 17th short story, 5th in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, 19th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Donnithorphe, Norfolk; Falmouth; Open sea
Date: Unknown; one night in winter
The crime or the mystery: A letter delivered to Mr. Trevor which caused his death
The time (if given): Night


The Players
The client: Victor Trevor, Holmes' only other friend
The victim(s): Mr. Trevor snr., his father (real name James Armitage)
The accused or suspected: Hudson, a sailor
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): None
The advocate(s): Holmes
The real culprit(s): Hudson
Others: Jack Prendergast, leader of the mutineers; Wilson, his second, disguised as a chaplain; Evans, Armitage's cellmate

The clues: Mr. Trevor's tattoo, the letter from Hudson
The red herring(s): None
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: None really; Holmes reads it all in the letter Armitage leaves
The result: Nothing; it ends, as Holmes would say, most unsatisfactorily.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

That Mr. Trevor, Victor's father, has been in fear of his life for some time. This he deduces by the fact that he has had his walking-stick fashioned into a weapon. That he has been a boxer, due to his flattened ears, that he has spent time in Japan and was once closely associated with someone whose initials are J.A., but which he now wishes to forget, this being communicated to Holmes by the tattoo on his arm, which he has tried to have erased.

Before the case

Holmes brings the case to the notice of Watson, by taking out the notes one winter's evening and telling him about it. He notes it was the first case he was ever involved in.


Synopsis:

Recovering from a dog-bite at his friend Victor Trevor's estate, Holmes inadvertently frightens his friend's father when he seems to know a little more about the man's past than he would have him know. In fact, the old Justice of the Peace faints when Holmes mentions the tattoo on his arm with the initials J.A., and from that moment on he views his son's friend with suspicion and a little fear, even though Holmes has only been exercising his powers of deduction and actually knows nothing about Mr. Trevor's life. In the end, Holmes tells Watson, he decided to leave rather than continue to make the old man uncomfortable. Just as he does though, an old acquaintance of Trevor's turns up, a sailor by the name of Hudson, an old ex-shipmate of his father's who seems to have some sort of power over the old man. Soon enough he's firmly got his feet under the table, taking his ease and doing what he likes, and going on as if he owns the place. Victor is beside himself, but due to the man's older age and also out of deference to his father he holds his tongue.

Then, some weeks after Holmes has returned to London, he gets a message asking him to come back down to Norfolk. Victor meets him and tells him his father is dying. He recounts the events that took place after Holmes left, explaining how arrogant and crude Hudson became, how everyone hated him but the old man seemed to be prepared not only to tolerate him, but to defer to him. Eventually Victor had, he tells Holmes, had enough and he had harsh words with the man. His father tried to get him to apologise, but he refused, and when Hudson finally decided he had tired of Norfolk and went to move on, to harass some other poor ex-shipmate, he demanded the apology again, which he did not get. He left in a fury, much to the consternation of the old man, who seemed very much in fear of him, even now they were free of him.

Only yesterday evening, Victor tells Holmes, a letter arrived for his father, which shocked and upset him so much that he had a stroke, and is not now expected to last the night. Indeed, when they arrive they are greeted by a sad-faced doctor, who confirms old Mr. Trevor has passed away. Victor shows Holmes the letter, and mentions that it came from Fordingham, in Hampshire. Holmes recalls that his friend had told him that Hudson had mentioned going to look up another "ex-shipment" called Beddoes, in Fordingham, so he reasons the letter could have come either from Hudson himself or from Beddoes, either way warning that whatever dark secret was in the care of Hudson had been, or was about to be revealed. The letter however when Holmes reads it conveys nothing of this.

"The supply of game for London is going steadily up," it reads. "Head-keeper Hudson has, we believe, been now told to receive all orders for fly-paper and for preservation of your hen-pheasant's life."

Not the sort of message likely to send anyone into such a paroxysm of fear that it would stop his heart, unless, reasons Holmes, it is in some sort of code, and means more than it looks to mean? Holmes tries several combinations but none yield any results, until he hits upon the cipher: every third word, taken without the others, reads thus: "The game is up. Hudson has told all. Fly for your life."

Evidently there is indeed a secret, and it has now been released into the public domain, which is why old Mr. Trevor panicked so that he had a stroke and died. His son takes Holmes to the cabinet where his father's statement, made when he understood an attack from Hudson was imminent, reside. They tell that his father's name is actually James Armitage, and that he was transported to Australia in 1855 for theft, taken then on the bark Gloria Scott. One of the criminals there set off a mutiny which resulted in the ship blowing up, but Armitage and his friend had escaped. They had the bad luck to pick up Hudson, floating among the wreckage, and take him with them when they were rescued by another ship.

Hudson's threats turn out to be just that, empty threats. Nothing is done, and the old man has died for nothing. His son, shaken by the whole business, goes abroad to begin a new career and a new life. And Holmes begins to think there may be something in this detective lark after all.


After the case

Victor Trevor leaves England, to take up tea-planting in Terai, wherever that may be. Hudson vanishes.

How the case is solved:

It's not; they just read about it in the letter old Trevor leaves behind for his son.

Comments:

Another very disappointing story. There's no real mystery for Holmes to solve - well, there's a mystery of sorts, but Holmes does not solve it - and the ending is a serious let-down. When you examine the idea of this Hudson threatening Trevor, it's nonsense isn't it? In order to be able to furnish the details he has, he would have to implicate himself, and again, like the veiled threat in "The Boscombe Valley Mystery", where's his proof? Are the police going to listen to a broken-down old sailor's tales and arrest a wealthy landowner, a fucking JUSTICE OF THE PEACE? A man well-regarded and liked, who has helped charitable causes and whose sentences, we're told, are lenient? Against a poor, down-on-his-luck and miserably arrogant able seaman nobody knows?

Trevor should have been able to laugh at such threats and said do your worst, I'd like to see you prove it. Instead he has a stroke. As if. The problem here again is that Doyle has neglected to add in a simple insurance policy that would have allowed the story to stand, and would have made the threat real. Had Hudson, say, a letter from Prendergast, a confession maybe to the so-called chaplain, or something from the captain, more likely, the last page of the ship's log; even a written agreement from the men to take over the ship, then maybe his threat might have carried weight, but even so, this is decades ago, and who is really going to be interested? I think the technical term writers prefer to use for this is bollocks.

I do find myself wondering what is the deal with Trevor/Armitage's tattoo? Who is so vain that he tattoos his own initials on his arm? Can it be that, sentenced to transportation, criminals were marked like this, something slightly similar - though less dark and ominous and evil - to how Jews and other inmates of concentration camps were catalogued like property in Nazi Germany? If not, then his having a tattoo makes no sense, and his attempts to get rid of it would make my theory perhaps more likely to hold water, but again Doyle throws us this supposedly important titbit of information and then lets us flounder around to try to find a reason for it.



Character Study

Victor Trevor: Less is told us about this man than we would wish to know, considering he was Holmes' only friend (before Watson) and in fact the man who set him on the path to the career he now follows. Well, it was his father really, but it happened only because of Holmes' association with the man. Other than that though, we don't know too much about him, but he seems a decent enough fellow, infuriated by the treatment his father gets from Hudson, standing up to him himself but still retaining enough loyalty to and respect for his father to hold his tongue as long as he can.

Mr. Trevor Snr: A man who has changed his name, as the previous one he bore was associated with criminal acts, though he seeks to minimise the illegality of his crime, telling his son it wasn't theft but merely circumstances which conspired to deny him the opportunity he had expected to be able to repay the money he had borrowed. He is dubious about Holmes' powers at first, having heard from his son how he can deduce so much from so little, and reluctant to believe, then scared of him when he hits so close to home. He's not very bright though, as outlined above, dying of shock when he receives what is in effect an empty threat.

Better than you

Not at all. Given that it's his very first case, as such (not even really a case, not professionally anyway) we can forgive Holmes for not solving it, but he certainly does not. The only thing he works out is the cipher the letter is coded in.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)
After spending some time with his friend Victor Trevor, Holmes goes home, having experienced the unpleasant arrival of a very unpleasant man, who sets himself up as if the house was his. Holmest is recalled to his friend's home when his father dies. After perusing the dead man's papers, they read the story of a mutiny, find out that Victor's father was not who he said he was, and that Hudson was ready to blow the whistle.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 7

The Holmes Body Count

Direct:
Indirect: 1 (Mr. Trevor)
Incidental:
Historical: 90 (on the ship)
Total: 91
Running total: 109

Famous Firsts

The first ever case for Holmes, and the first we have read about in which Watson plays no part, indeed is not even known to Holmes at this point.

Satisfied Customer(s)?

No. There really is no customer, and if there is, you couldn't say Holmes would have justified his fee (had there been one) by reading a letter.

Self-referentials None, but like the previous story, I find this very close to another. As I say above, it's very similar to  how the circumstances played out in "The  Boscombe Valley Mystery".

Legal outcome (if any): None
:2stars:

Title: "The Musgrave Ritual"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 18th short story, 6th in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, 20th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Montague Street; Hurlstone Manor, West Sussex
Date: Unknown; some time in winter
The crime or the mystery: The disappearance of both the butler and the maid
The time (if given): Morning (in narration), night (in Holmes' retelling) i.e., Holmes tells Watson one night about the case, but the case itself began with a visit in the morning

The Players
The client: Reginald Musgrave
The victim(s): None initially; Brunton the butler in the end
The accused or suspected: None
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): None (local police, not named or taking part, just referred to in passing)
The advocate(s): Holmes
The real culprit(s): Brunton and Rachel Howells, the housemaid
Others: Janet Tregellis, the game-keeper's daughter

The clues: The directions left in the ritual, the fact Brunton was studying them
The red herring(s): None
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: When Holmes, or rather, Musgrave, realises that the chamber is beneath where they're standing; also when Holmes recognises the coins as being from the reign of Charles I.
The result: The recovery from the lake of the ancient crown of King Charles I


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case: None

Before the case

Holmes and Watson are sitting together one winter evening when (rather like the previous-but-one story) Holmes drags out a box of files and begins to tidy up at Watson's request, but coming across this particular case he regales his friend with the tale.

Synopsis:

Holmes is asked by his friend, Reginald Musgrave, who has inherited his father's manor in Sussex, to come down and see if he can solve the mystery that is bedevilling them. It seems his butler, one Brunton, was dismissed for going through private family documents, one of which was a thing called the "Musgrave Ritual", a sort of questionnaire that each member of the family has to learn and recite when they come of age. The questions, and the answers, are meaningless, swears Reginald Musgrave, but even so, the temerity of the butler in reading these papers would not stand, and he had to dismiss him. A few days later the butler, who had prevailed upon him to allow him a week to leave, so as to preserve some part of his honour, vanishes, and the maid, Rachel Howells, is acting very strange. She is just recovering, he tells Holmes, from a bout of brain fever, and now seems to have gone completely mad, hysterical when Brunton's name is mentioned, screaming "He is gone, he is gone!"

And so he is. His wallet, watch and boots are still in his room, but his slippers and his black suit are gone. And so is he. Nobody seems to know where to though. Then the maid vanishes. A nurse had been sitting up to watch over her but fell asleep and when she awoke she was gone. They follow the footprints to the edge of the lake, fearing the worst, but after dragging it all they find is a bag containing some old discoloured metal and glass. It is at this point that Musgrave asks Holmes for help.

Holmes asks to see the paper Brunton was studying. As Musgrave has already explained - and as he explains again, with a touch of irritation at the irrelevance of the question - it is a list of questions and answers, known as the "Musgrave Ritual", something each member of the family must recite when they come of age. It seems to make no sense. It runs thus:
"Whose was it?
His who is gone.
'Who shall have it?' "
'He who will come.'
" 'Where was the sun?' "
'Over the oak.' " '
Where was the shadow?' "
'Under the elm.' " '
How was it stepped?' " '
North by ten and by ten, east by five and by five, south by two and by two, west by one and by one, and so under.' "
'What shall we give for it?' "
'All that is ours.' "
'Why should we give it?' "
'For the sake of the trust.'

Holmes realises these are directions, points on a map, and is able to measure out the distance to which the verse alludes. It's a longish and somewhat complicated calculation, as one of the trees, the elm, no longer stands and Holmes has to work out how long its shadow would have been, and frankly I'm not going through it all. Read the story if you want to know. Suffice to say that eventually the calculations bring them to the wall of the house, around to the older part, which is mostly disused, and down into the cellar, where they find a flagstone which has been moved. Enlisting the help of the local constabulary, Holmes has the stone moved and they uncover a small chamber, within which they find an open chest, empty but for a few old coins, and the body of the butler.

Holmes now deduces that Rachel Howells had been helping Brunton to find whatever he believed had been in that chest, but that only he could fit into the cellar, and she had, for whatever reason, perhaps his throwing her over for the game-keeper's daughter, shut him in there, or the lid may have slammed shut by accident. Even if so, she had deliberately not raised the alarm, and left the butler to die. This, then, would account for her brain-fever, her restlessness, her hysteria and her sudden departure towards the lake. It might also account for what was retrieved from the lake. But what was that? What had impressed Brunton so that he had risked his life to get it, and then induced Rachel to throw it in the lake?

When Holmes identifies the coin as being from the reign of Charles I, he has it. The mangled and twisted metal and glass is in fact the crown of the Stuarts, left behind by them when the king was executed by Cromwell, not returned to Charles II when he returned possibly due to the death of whoever knew the location and their inability or failure to pass the secret on, except in a cryptic code which has been passed down through the Musgrave family for generations, they having been close to the Stuarts in their time. Some of the "Musgrave Ritual" makes sense now: whose was it? His who is gone - this being Charles I, then "Who shall have it? He who will come" being his son, Charles II.

After the case

Again, not much. Holmes remarks to Watson that the crown was cleaned up and restored as best it could be, and that he is welcome to go down to Hurlstone and see it for himself.

How the case is solved:

Holmes deciphers the code in the ritual, then, on seeing the dead butler and putting this together with the strange temperament of the maid, works out what happened, but is still in the dark as to what they were after. When he sees the coins in the chest, and is told that the family were once retainers to Charles II, the final piece falls into place and he knows what they recovered from the lake.

Comments:

Meh, I don't really like this story. In fact, if I'm honest, it's one of my least favourite, not only because it focuses on the nobility - how noble can you get? The king himself - and can be of little interest to anyone not English, but because at its heart it's damn boring, like learning some algebraic equation or something. It's interesting as it's a) an early case for Holmes and b) it's him narrating it instead of Watson, but there's something, I don't know, maybe over-clever about it? It seems too complicated and intricate, and the payoff at the end, for me anyway, is a kind of shrug. Who cares about some old crown a king used to wear? Suppose it's different if you're English. I'm not. Also, the fate of Rachel Howells is just brushed aside: nobody knows where she went, what she did. Did she throw the crown in the lake because she knew what it was (unlikely) or to spite her ex-lover (maybe) or even just to cover up the evidence of their joint crime (more than likely)? Maybe it was even frustration, that having aided in a theft and been either accidentally or on purpose responsible for a man's death, all she had to show for it was - as she understood it - some old tarnished metal and glass, of no use to her, certainly nothing she could sell to procure her passage to freedom.

Not only that, but where was she going to go? In the nineteenth century, a maid leaving employment without a reference would never work again, so she could end up on the streets, or in an asylum, if her "brain-fever" persisted. Leaving this as a loose end comes across to me as a a little callous and more than a little chauvinistic of Doyle. I also wish he would stop with this "torrid, tempestuous, fiery, tropical" shit - the girl was only Welsh, not fucking Brazilian. Is he going to apply this to every non-English girl in his stories? It's quite annoying, especially when he basically dismisses her at the end. As a character, she's been dumped by one man, now Doyle does it again, considering her fate of no importance.

Character Study

Richard Brunton: A man who likes the ladies, and in his position as butler has access to more than enough willing young women, but does not stick with just one. He's also highly intelligent, having worked out the code in the ritual, but alas not quite intelligent enough to realise that asking a spurned lover to help him, and placing himself at her mercy, is perhaps not the best move. His request for time to arrange his affairs seems at first to point to a man who wishes to retain his honour and reputation, but in fact turns out, so far as I can see, to be nothing more than playing for time. If he was dismissed on the spot, he would have had no authority to be on the grounds, and therefore could not get to the cellar wherein he believes the treasure is stored.

Rachel Howells: Not much is known of her, other than that she is one of Brunton's conquests, discarded now, with likely little real interest in the crown, if Brunton has even told her what he's searching for, and quite possibly just awaiting a chance to take her revenge. It could be there was an argument between the two, when Brunton saw with disappointment all that was in the chest, or she may have come there with the express intention of sealing him in the cellar. It may have been an accident, a propped plank slipping perhaps, but if so, she certainly did not go running for help, so either way she's guilty of murder or at the least manslaughter.

Better than you

Holmes shows here how, even at the very beginning of his career, he is able to see past what most people consider, and what he later refers to as, trifles, and uncover the meaning beneath them which leads to either a large clue or the actual solution. When he realises that this "unimportant and obscure ritual" is in fact directions, he's able to work out just what Brunton was up to, find his body and, in the process, find the crown. There's certainly no way any policeman would have worked that out, and to be fair here, he's proving he's more intelligent and sharper than literally generations of the Musgraves.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

When his friend's butler goes missing, Holmes is asked to investigate. He uncovers a map his friend did not realise he had, which points the way towards a great treasure buried in his manor, the lost crown of the Stuarts. He also finds that the butler, in collaboration with one of the maids, had been attempting to steal it, and that the butler had died in the attempt.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 7

The Holmes Body Count

Direct:
Indirect: 1 (Brunton)
Incidental:
Historical: Eh, let's not count His Majesty Charles I, shall we? It was a long time ago. Let ye bygones be, and all that. No need to lose the head. Sorry.
Total: 1
Running total: 110

Famous Firsts


Satisfied Customer(s)?

Very much so. Musgrave not only finds out what has happened to his butler and why the maid has gone doolally, but also is able to claim the honour of being the first of his long line to be able to crack the code and return the crown of King Charles.

Self-referentials "The Gloria Scott", "A Study in Scarlet"

Legal outcome (if any): None
:2stars:

Title: "The Reigate Puzzle" (also known as "The Reigate Squire")
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 19th short story, 7th in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, 21st Holmes story overall
Location(s): Hotel Dulong, Lyons; Baker Street
Date: April 14 1887
The crime or the mystery: Murder
The time (if given): Unknown


The Players
The client: None really; private investigation
The victim(s): William Kirwan, a coachman working for the Cunninghams
The accused or suspected: None
The arrested: The Cunninghams (eventually)
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Forrester
The advocate(s): None
The real culprit(s): The Cunninghams
Others: Colonel Hayter, friend of Watson; Mr. Acton, a neighbour

The clues: A note found in Kirwan's dead hand; an alleged killer proven not to exist
The red herring(s): As such, the alleged killer
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None.
The breakthrough: When Holmes finds the note
The result: Holmes is almost killed but is rescued and solves the case.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

Before the case

Watson states that Holmes has worn himself out. For the past two months he has been working an international case that has foiled the police of three countries, and has at times been working five days straight. His health has deteriorated, and Watson receives a call to tell him that his friend is in hospital in Lyons. He visits him, brings him home and finding him still in a black depression, takes up the offer of his friend Colonel Hayter to visit him in the country, bringing Holmes with him. While there, the colonel mentions a spate of burglaries that have taken place in the area, though with very strange results, the thieves getting away with nothing of value. Holmes is immediately intrigued, though Watson admonishes him not to get involved. He's here for a rest, after all.

Synopsis:

The next day, burglary turns to murder, as the coachman at the Cunningham's, Hayter's nearest neighbour, is shot, apparently having come upon the robbers, and killed. Holmes has found out that the previous victim of the thieves, Acton, is deep in a bitter legal battle with the Cunninghams over half the estate, and that most of their fortune has been expended on the lawsuit. It's reported by Inspector Forrester that both the Cunninghams saw the thief make his getaway but neither could do anything to hinder him in his escape, as one, the father, was in bed while the other, his son, tried to help William before he died. The inspector also shows them a scrap of paper, which seems to be part of a larger note, torn off, which was in the dead man's grasp. The only words on it are "at quarter to twelve learn what may" and the writing is a little haphazard, with the spacing different between each word.

Holmes is so struck with the writing that he seems to recover from his lethargy on the spot, and accompanies the inspector to the scene of the crime. Forrester comes back alone an hour and a half later, telling Hayter and Watson that Holmes wishes them to come up, and pointing out that he believes Mr. Holmes has not in fact quite recovered yet. But Watson of course knows the methods his friend uses, and just smiles. Holmes then tells them that the note from which the fragment came must have been delivered by a third party to William, or else posted, as otherwise the message could have been given by mouth, and the inspector tells him that he has confirmed it did come by the afternoon post. Holmes then brings them up to the Cunninghams' house as the two approach.

Suddenly, he seems to be stricken with a fit, and they carry him into the house, Inspector Forrester no doubt thinking his diagnosis, as it were, was correct, and that Holmes is too weak to be out and about. From inside, Holmes scopes out the view - the positioning of the rooms, the windows, the door and so on, and asks the Cunninghams if it is not possible that, rather than having surprised the burglar in the act, William came upon him after the robbery had been effected? Both Cunninghams wave away the idea, and Holmes lets the matter drop. He then asks the elder to offer a reward for information, and shows him a sample he has written out, but the elder Cunningham points out he has written "quarter to one" when it was a quarter to twelve, and corrects it for him. Watson notes that he feels pained, as this is not the sort of mistake his friend would normally make, and it only underlines how he has still not yet recovered from his illness.

Watson also notes that the younger Cunningham, Alec, laughs a little maliciously, which he remarks as perhaps being a little odd; in fact, neither seem too bothered about the murder of their coachman. Holmes then asks to examine the bedrooms, as both Cunninghams get increasingly irritated and impatient with him. Alec sneers again, but as Holmes knocks over a dish of fruit onto the floor and vanishes, the cry of "Help! Murder!" brings Forrester and Watson running into the other room, where Holmes is being attacked by the two Cunninghams. Pulling them off him, Inspector Forrester disarms Alec as he draws a gun, and the two are taken away.

Holmes describes how he realised the note had been written by two men from the same family, though to be honest I think Doyle is reaching here, but more on that in the comments. He then also reveals that when he examined the bullet wound on William Kirwan he could see that the man had not been shot point-blank, so that the story the two Cunninghams gave about having seen him struggle with another man for the gun was false, and further, they both said they saw the alleged thief/gunman run through the hedge at the bottom of the garden, but Holmes was unable to ascertain any footprints or signs of passage there, despite it being moist due to there being a ditch there. This convinced him that not only were the two men lying about where the assailant had run to, but that there was in fact no assailant. This put them squarely in his sights as culprits.

He has also divined the reason for the burglary at Acton's. Knowing of the dispute between the two families, he reasons that the break-in was an attempt to get an important document that would have had a serious bearing on the case, but this, Acton tells him, is safely with his solicitor (which they really should have considered would be the case) so when they could not find it, the two Cunninghams then tried to make their forced entry look like a common burglary, by taking whatever they could find at the time.

Next was the note. Holmes says it was very important to find it and see what the full message was. He says he believes that if Alec Cunningham snatched it from the dead hand of Kirwan, he would have had no other place to stash it, being dressed for bed, than in the pocket of his dressing-gown. As the Cunninghams joined them at the house though, and the inspector was about to speak and tell them of the importance of the note, Holmes had faked a fit, diverting attention and changing the conversation. He then managed through seeming to make a mistake to get old Cunningham to write the word "twelve", so that he could compare it to the writing on the note, another seeming error that Watson now sees was deliberate, and part of his plan.

Once "recovered", he had gone on the search for the note, and seeing the dressing-gown hanging on the door had needed a diversion in order to go back and search the pockets. Thus he had overturned the table, giving  him enough time to slip away. As he retrieved it he was attacked by father and son, who realised the game was up unless they shut him up for good. The note was there, indeed, and it reads "If you will only come round at quarter to twelve
to the east gate you will learn what
will very much surprise you and maybe [sic]
be of the greatest service to you and also
to Annie Morrison. But say nothing to anyone
upon the matter."


It turns out that William Kirwan had followed them when they broke into Acton's and was trying to blackmail them when Alec killed him after luring him to the house with the note.

After the case

Holmes gives the explanation above and remarks that his stay in the country has indeed been just what the doctor ordered.

How the case is solved:

Read above; I'm not writing it out again.

Comments:

It's a good story, but I think a little overcomplicated. Despite Holmes' assertion that the note had to be written by two people so that both could share in the blame, I don't see it. Why? Who but a professional handwriting expert is going to be able to tell which of them wrote the note, and as they only have a scrap of it are the police going to be bothered? Once they have their men it won't matter who wrote what. I think this is a case of Doyle doing what he sometimes does, adding in an extra conundrum just so that his hero can show how smart he is. The list of things stolen, too, seem singular (as they said back then) enough to mean something, but they don't, so it's a pity he doesn't just say they took sundry items. Describing each makes it seem like they're going to have some significance.

I also think that arresting the two on the basis of their expressions is a bit weak, though in fairness Alec does go for a gun, so there is that. Still, it would have been better handled another way I feel. Considering both men are presented as fairly intelligent, if villainous, it also seems, as I say above, unlikely that they would expect to find a valuable legal document hanging around in the house. As this is a lawsuit, is it not to be expected that such a document would be in the keeping of Acton's lawyer? And yet, their attempts to get it lead not only to a charge of murder but to surely the end of their claim and the loss of their case, as they are both now going to prison. A bad and ill-thought-out gamble which undoes them.

Doyle is clever, showing us Holmes making what we believe are mistakes, and setting this up by having Watson worry about his health and indeed, having Holmes in hospital at the opening of the story, but he's used this kind of ruse before, and I think we know that Holmes is up to something. I certainly did, the first time I read this. It's perhaps surprising, even unbelievable that Watson falls for it, though again I suppose he is worried about his friend. I guess it's good, too, to see that all the reasoning and problem-solving in the world can't save the great detective when it comes to brutal, brute violence perpetrated against his person, and he has to call for help. Like they say, you can be a judo master or expert boxer, but an iron bar over the head will still knock you down. Had he been there alone, Holmes was dead.

This story, of course, mirrors

Spoiler

"The Devil's Foot",

[close]

with Watson again inveigling Holmes into taking a break in the country, trying to keep him from getting involved in any cases, and failing. Seems mystery, crime and death follow Sherlock Holmes around like a trio of dark puppies.

I would say, however, that Doyle's dismissal of the role played in the story by this Annie Morrison speaks to me of lazy writing. If he couldn't see a way to integrate her into the tale, why mention her? He could have written "our mutual friend" or "the woman in question", or something entirely different. Instead, he leaves us scratching our heads, asking, somewhat like the poor maligned Smokie re-release, who the fuck is Annie? It's like he says to us, look, you work it out. I'm a busy man. But I'm something of a writer too, and rather like certain crime bosses, I don't like loose ends.

And to that effect I'm beginning a new section, which you'll not be surprised to hear will be called

Loose Ends: A Tale Not Fully Told

What I'll do here is list any elements of the story that, to me, don't really seem to have been finished off in the narration. Like the previous story, the fate of the maid left unfinished, or in "The Gloria Scott", where there was no evidence to back up Hudson's threat. I find Doyle did this a lot, and in fairness, the great writer he was should have had a bit more professional pride, I feel, so I'm going to be taking him to task here.

1. Annie Morrison: already detailed above, but it's a glaring loose end, vaguely brushed off by Holmes at the end as he says - and he's right - they have no idea who she is. But isn't it even possible she might have been involved in the crime on some level? Should they not try to at least find out who she is? It's not a bustling city or anything, should be a snap to someone of Holmes' talents to track her down.

Character Study

Alec Cunningham: A young man, arrogant, sneering but able to put on a pleasant air when he needs to show that face. A violent and desperate man, it's he who goes for the gun and thus confirms his guilt, and he, we are told, who continues to rave and threaten while in custody. He is the one who kills William Kirwan; I suppose we can assume his father is merely an accessory, covering for him, though he can also be accused of burglary. Can he be accused of attempted murder? Hard to say: he was only trying to twist the note out of Holmes' hand, while his son was endeavouring to throttle him. I feel that Alec will do little to help exonerate his father, though.

Better than you

Even recovering from a bad illness, Holmes proves himself here more than a match for two scheming, murderous minds, and almost loses his life in the process. He is the only one who recognises that the writing has been done by two men, and can pretty accurately describe both. He is the one who disbelieves the story about the alleged attacker said to have killed Kirwan. He's even able to divert attention at the crucial moment by playing on his recent illness and pretending to faint. Both Inspector Forrester and Colonel Hayter are suitably impressed by his powers.

Also, to be fair, Forester seems to be the first of the official police with whom Holmes has been involved who actually impresses the great detective. Rather than have to explain everything to the inspector, or roll his eyes painfully at how far the man is off the target, he seems to approve of Forester's work, and congratulates him. They work, for once, together, and each seem to be of the one mind, mostly. A rare occasion indeed.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

A break-in results in murder, and Holmes, recovering in Sussex from a bad illness, investigates. He finds out that the murder has been committed by two of the neighbours, who were locked in a lawsuit with another one, and were trying to cover their tracks and prevent being blackmailed. Holmes is almost killed during the case but Watson and the inspector come to his rescue.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 2
Running total: 9

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1
Indirect:
Incidental:
Historical:
Total: 1
Running total: 111

Famous Firsts

The first, but by no means last or only time Holmes' life comes under direct threat.

Satisfied Customer(s)?

As such, yes, though there was really no client. But the case is solved and the perpetrators brought to justice, so generally, yes.

Self-referentials None

Legal outcome (if any): Two Cunninghams arrested, killer of William Kirwan brought to justice.
:4stars:

Title: "The Crooked Man"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 20th short story; 8th in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, 22nd  Holmes story overall
Location(s): Watson's house; Hudson Street, Aldershot; Lachine, Aldershot
Date: Unknown "Last Monday" says Holmes, but there is no frame of reference for the date so it's less than useless)
The crime or the mystery: The murder of Colonel Barclay
The time (if given): 8:00 pm - 9:00 pm


The Players
The client: Major Murphy
The victim(s): Colonel James Barclay
The accused or suspected: Nancy Barclay, his wife
The arrested:  Nancy Barclay
The investigating officer(s): None
The advocate(s): Technically, Henry Wood I guess, or maybe Miss Morrison
The real culprit(s): Nobody; technically Henry Wood but it was actually an accident
Others: Miss Morrison, a friend of Mrs. Barclay; Henry Wood, an ex-officer in the regiment

The clues: A chance meeting between Mrs. Barclay and the beggar Henry Wood; her sudden change of demeanour towards her husband immediately after; the missing key
The red herring(s): The mongoose, kind of; the club believed to have been the murder weapon
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: When Holmes talks to Miss Morrison and hears the story of Henry Wood
The result: None; ruled as natural causes


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

That Watson has been smoking Arcadia tobacco, as he recognised the ash on his jacket (and as we know, Holmes has devoted quite a bit of time to the study of the various types of cigar and cigarette ash); that he has had the workmen in, due to two nail marks made on the floor by the workers' boots; that he has no gentleman visitor at present, as the hatstand is empty except for his own. That he is busy enough at the moment that he has to take a hansom, as his unscuffed boots denote.

Before the case

Technically speaking, the case is already in train when Holmes arrives at Watson's house, but before the two join forces he knocks on his door late one evening and asks to stay over, whereafter he requests Watson come with him to Aldershot, to investigate the murder of Colonel James Barclay of the Royal Munsters, a battalion which distinguished itself in India. He explains that the Colonel was found dead in a locked room, with only his wife present, and no cause of death ascertained. Raised voices had been heard, Holmes tells Watson, from within the room, with the colonel being accused of being a coward by his wife.

Then there was a crash and the door being unable to be forced, entry was effected through the French windows, whereupon it was discovered that the colonel was dead, lying in a pool of his own blood with a gash in his head, believed to have been made by a strange club lying close by. None of the servants professed to recognise it, but Holmes remarks that the colonel had a large collection of weapons brought back from the countries where he had served. Most curious of all, the key was nowhere to be found. Mrs. Barclay had fainted, and was even now in a state of brain fever, so no sense could be got out of her. Holmes also remarks that he found footprints outside in the garden, one set human, the other belonging to an unidentified animal. All he knows about the beast is its general size, that it can run up curtains (as it did) and is carnivorous, as it was trying to get at a canary in a cage.

He also notes that it was observed at the time that the colonel's face had set in an expression of absolute horror and dread, and that he personally believes it is possible that Barclay fell in fright and hit his head off the fireplace. There was also a name noted during the altercation - David - which puzzles Holmes. He then says he went to question Miss Morrison, a neighbour with whom the colonel's wife had gone to attend a charity she supports, and though she was reluctant to reveal the secret that had been entrusted to her, when she realised her friend might have a date with the gallows if she did not speak up, she explained to Holmes what had occurred, as he now passes on to Watson.

On the way back from the charity mission, Mrs. Barclay had been approached by a wretched old cripple, with a bent and twisted form, and a box on his back. He had called her by name, and she had asked Miss Morrison to allow them speak alone. After a few moments of speech, she had come back, white with fury, and he had stood shaking his fist after her. She had told Miss Morrison that he was an old friend down on his luck, and begged her not to say anything about the meeting to her husband, or anyone, and her friend had agreed. Holmes had then sought out the man, whose name was Henry Wood, found where he was staying, and, talking to his landlady, learned he was a performer of tricks and that he carried on his back some creature the landlady did not recognise but was afraid of. He also seems to have spent time in India, and she said she had heard him crying in his room the last two days,

Whoever this Henry Wood is, and whatever beast or pet he brought with him, the detective feels certain both have a very strong bearing on the case, which is why he intends to return - with Watson this time - to Aldershot in the morning, to question him with Watson as a witness.

Synopsis:

When they go to meet Wood, they are told a story of love and betrayal and murder. Wood tells them that he loved Nancy, now Mrs. Barclay (well, now the widow Barclay I guess) and so did the colonel, then a sergeant, when they were serving in India. But Nancy had chosen Wood, and when the Indian Mutiny broke out, Wood volunteered to go for reinforcements. Barclay was supposed to help him avoid the rebels but instead betrayed him into their hands, anxious to claim Nancy as his own. For years Wood was kept a prisoner, he tells Holmes and Watson, till eventually he escaped and made his way back to England where he accidentally encountered Nancy. When she realised who he was, that he was alive and more, when she heard how her husband had betrayed him, she was furious and went home to have it out with him.

Wood followed, and when Barclay saw him through the door he knew the game was up and suffered a heart attack, hitting his head on the fender as he fell. He was dead before he reached the ground. Wood's animal - a mongoose - then got loose and he had to retrieve him. But he does say that, had Barclay not taken the coronary he did, Wood is more than likely to have killed him himself. Still, intent to murder is not a crime, and when it becomes clear that Barclay died from natural causes his wife is released. The only remaining question to be answered is why Nancy Barclay used the name David, and apparently it's a Biblical reference for a traitor or a betrayer.

After the case

Nothing much. Watson asks about the usage of David and Holmes directs him to the Bible.

How the case is solved:

Holmes marks the tracks of a man and a beast, realises there had to be a third person in the room since the key is missing, and, on questioning Miss Morrison, finds out about Wood and realises he has had something to do with it. Although technically he does not solve the case, but unusually has it laid out before him, this is how he confirms his theory.

Comments:

It's a pretty decent "sealed-room"-type case, with more references to India, and a woman at the centre of it. Oddly, though Mrs. Barclay is mentioned as having been arrested, there is no input whatsoever from Scotland Yard or even a local police officer; Holmes has no conversations or even involvement with the police and in fact the case quickly falls apart as the coroner brings in the verdict of death by heart attack. As he has not been consulting with the police, Holmes has not mentioned the footprints to anyone, so there is no official record of Wood's being involved, or even his existence. It's also an unusual story because, as you can see above, the majority of it takes place before Holmes and Watson go to the scene of the crime - well, Wood's lodgings - with everything explained the night before by Holmes to his friend.

I have, however, a problem with the usage of "David". It's a poor device by which to register treachery. I don't know the story, but looking it up I see that it has to do with a soldier called Uriah whose wife King David had raped and made pregnant, and whom he had killed by ordering his men to abandon Uriah in the middle of a battle. Yeah, well maybe, but if anyone wants to talk about betrayal the usual name used is (anyone?) Judas. I know saying Judas would have given it away, but I think the David comparison is a poor one and works very badly, the more so that it's not adequately explained, and would not be known, surely, by anyone who doesn't read or isn't familiar with the Holy Book. That's not the only thing I have a problem with though.

I see no need for the mongoose, or rather, I could have seen a better use for it. If the creature - which is confirmed as being a carnivore - had gone for the colonel and killed him, or even scared him so that he fell backwards and hit his head, then maybe there'd be justification for its presence, and you could even have compared this to Poe's "Murders in the Rue Morgue". As it is, it's a pointless extra that really adds nothing to the story and serves in ways to distract from it. Why not just have Wood a cripple, begging for his bread? What was the point of having the mongoose if it was not to figure in the crime?

And again, Arthur the misogynist comes through again, as, while he does not say so directly, it's clear he's laying the blame, both for Wood's destitution and capture and the colonel's death at the feet of Nancy. After all, they both wanted her, and he made sure he got her. Reading between the lines we can see that the message is, had she not been there, then both men would still be alive and Wood would not be in the state he is. So, as with many of Doyle's stories, though she's not blamed in as many words, the root of all evil - and certainly murder - lies in woman. Sigh.

Character Study

Colonel James Barclay: We can only get his character really from his past as related by Henry Wood, but it seems he was a jealous and vindictive man, who desired a woman he could not have, and decided to remove his rival by the most fatal means at his disposal. There is some redemption possible for him though, as Doyle does say that on occasions Barclay would lapse into terrible depression. He also notes that he is afraid of being left alone in the dark; I don't know what this is supposed to refer to, unless he feared somehow that the ghost (as he would have imagined him to be long dead) of Wood was going to come for him. He seemed to know that his wife did not really love him, but they had reached a compromise until the truth became clear.

Henry Wood: The man who had won Nancy Barclay's heart, he was betrayed by the colonel and captured by the rebels. Sounds painful! Anyway, due to all the torture he underwent at their hands he is now a twisted and warped cripple of a man, scraping a living by doing tricks with the aid of his mongoose. He is of course a bitter man, and when he sees Nancy and then follows her home and sees his rival, his betrayer, he is mad with rage, but satisfied to see the man die of a heart attack. Should the verdict read other than natural causes though, he tells Holmes, he will be ready to come forward to save Nancy from the rope.

Better than you N/A; the only reason Nancy is released is when the coroner brings in a verdict of death by natural causes. Holmes' long, rambling, incisive deductions have absolutely no bearing on the case, nor does he consult with the police, nor they with him.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Colonel Barclay appears to have been murdered, but it turns out that he suffered a heart attack when he saw the man he had betrayed in India, in order to get the woman who was this man's but is now his wife, looking in the door. The wife is arrested as she was the only other one known to be in the room at the time, and was arguing with her husband, but when the coroner report confirms a heart attack, all charges are dropped.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 9

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 1
Incidental: 0
Historical: 0
Total: 1
Running total: 112

Famous Firsts None

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Can you say Major Murphy is? Maybe not: the case basically falls apart when it becomes clear that Barclay died of a heart attack, so Holmes' services are no longer required. Therefore in Murphy's eyes, probably not satisfied, nor indeed unsatisfied. Merely no longer a customer I guess.

Self-referentials None

Legal outcome (if any): None; Nancy is released when the murder verdict is revised.
:3stars:

Title: "The Resident Patient"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 21st short story, 9th story in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes, 23rd Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Fleet Street; The Strand; Brook Street; Oxford Street; Harley Street
Date: October
The crime or the mystery: The invasion of Mr. Blessington's room, culminating in his murder
The time (if given): Evening


The Players
The client: Dr. Percy Trevylan
The victim(s): Mr. Blessington (actually called Sutton, one of the gang below)
The accused or suspected: See under "The real culprits"
The arrested: The page
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Lanner
The advocate(s): None
The real culprit(s): Biddle, Hayward and Moffat, the Worthingdon Bank Gang
Others: An unnamed page, recently employed

The clues: A screwdriver and screws in the dead man's room, two different types of cigars, scratches on the door lock, footprints on the stairs and a barred door, evidently closed after the procedure had been enacted.
The red herring(s): The burglary spoken of by "Blessington"; his cash box
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: None really. It's not explained how Holmes links the two men - three, as per the footprints on the stairs - to the bank robber gang.
The result: All three escape but are presumed lost at sea when their ship founders.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:
He is able to infer from the mere movements of Watson's eyes that he is thinking about the absurdity of the American Civil War (it's too involved to write about here; check out the story for yourself). That their visitor when they return from their walk is a doctor, and a busy one. That he has not been waiting long.

Before the case

After vegetating in the flat on a close, rainy day, during which time Holmes makes his deductions about Watson's thoughts, as alluded to above, the two go for a walk. When they return there is a client awaiting them.

Synopsis:

The client is a doctor, Percy Trevelyan, who tells them that though he is something in the field of the study of catalepsy, he had not the capital to set up his own business, but was approached by a rich gentleman one day who agreed to back him, providing him premises in return for seventy-five percent of his earnings. The man's name was Blessington, he says, and he had a weak heart and so required constant medical supervision. He did not go out much, but after hearing of a break-in nearby he flew into a panic and ordered new locks for the doors and windows, refusing to go out. Eventually, Trevelyan tells them, this Blessington character seemed to calm down and returned to his customary habit of taking a walk before dinner, until a few das ago, when the doctor received a patient who said he was a Russian nobleman, and who was brought to him by his son, suffering from the very catalepsy in which Dr. Trevelyan is so versed.

The son waited in the waiting room, unwilling, he said, to see his father in one of his fits, and true to his prediction the old man fell into one. When Trevelyan left the room for a few minutes to fetch some medicine, he was amazed on his return to find the old man gone. Gone, too, was the son, neither without a word. This very evening, Trevelyan tells Holmes and Watson, the two reappeared with an excuse that the old man had come out of his trance, been clouded of mind and had left, the son going after him. That, he says, seemed reasonable enough. However when the patient and his son had gone, and Blessington had returned from his walk, his benefactor had gone mad, saying that someone had been in his room, and showing Trevelyan footprints there that were certainly not his. The doctor had then come out directly to see Holmes.

When the two arrive at Brook Street, Blessington meets them armed, believing them the people who were in his room, or worse. Trevelyan finds it hard to reconcile such a small incident with the fury the man pours out; after all, nothing was taken. But Blessington calms down and allows Holmes to see his room. He points out a strongbox where he has put his three-quarters of Dr. Trevelyan's earnings, but Holmes knows he is hiding something and when he will not be straight with him he abandons him and heads home.

In the morning there is a note from Trevelyan, and on arriving at Brook Street again the two discover that Blessington is dead, hanged by his own hand. Holmes, however, is dubious that this is a suicide. He has already noted to Watson on the way home the previous night that he feels sure Blessington knew the two men, the supposed catalepsy patient and his son, and that he was in mortal dread of them. It seems that what he feared was not groundless, and has found him out. Examining the cigar butts in the fireplace and the one in Blessington's cigar case, Holmes deduces that there are two distinct types, so therefore he believes there were two other men in the room earlier this morning, and that Blessington did not hang himself but was murdered.

It turns out Blessington, whose real name was Sutton, was part of a gang that pulled a bank robbery years ago, and who turned informer. One of their number was hanged, as a man had been killed in the robbery, the others got jail but are now out and furious with the turncoat. They effected entry into Dr. Trevelyan's office through the help of the page, who was either in on it from the start or bought off and got to Blessington/Sutton's room, held a trial and then hanged him. The three men evade justice, as such, boarding a steamer bound for Portugal, but rather like the criminals in "The Five Orange Pips", their ship goes down and they are presumed lost at sea. The page is set free as the trial breaks down for want of evidence.



After the case

Nothing really. The theory is advanced that the three robbers died at sea, but there is no confirmation of this, and the page goes free as the trial collapses. Who now pays Dr. Trevelyan's rent is anyone's guess, though I suppose it's possible he takes back the earnings "Blessington" had claimed as his share.

How the case is solved:

Although it looks like a suicide, Holmes has very much his doubts. For one thing, why hang yourself in such an awkward way? A man that large is going to suffer if he doesn't do it right and break his neck immediately, which is, pretty much, impossible with the distances involved. I mean, we're not talking about a hangman's drop here exactly, are we? The presence of the screws and screwdriver suggest to him that they had been brought to fix up the block and tackle which was to have been used for the hanging, but then the executioners realised there was a ready-made gallows there for them to use. The different types of cigars speaks of separate people, as do the footprints on the stairs. The fact that the door was bolted already is a hurdle he gets over by realising - as perhaps he had already suspected, though it's not said - that the recently-employed page was in on it.

Comments:

I have a lot of problems with this story. It is, to me, full of holes and unlikely coincidences. Several questions arise. How did the other members of the gang find out what name Sutton was living under? How did they trace him? Did they really go into such deep research as to find out what Dr. Trevelyan's special field was, and tailor their plan to get into his house using that? Seems very elaborate. Also, if they had already been in "Blessington"'s room (or one of them had) would they not have noted the hook to be used, and not bothered lugging their block and tackle with them, when they knew it was not going to be needed? How did they get into the house (well, the page let them in but still) and hang a man while the doctor was present? How did he not hear anything? Did he not hear them coming in, up the stairs, down the stairs and out again? Surely he would have heard the agonised sound of a man dying by hanging? We hear in "The Stock-broker's Clerk" that what alerts Holmes and Pycroft to the hanging of "Arthur Pinner" is the sound of his heels drumming against the door in his death throes. And he was not a large man, whereas Sutton was. How could the doctor not have heard? Maybe he had gone out, but that's not made at all clear.

It's far too elaborate a scheme for simple bank robbers. Why not just wait for Sutton to return from his walk (which we're told was a regular habit of his) and take him as he arrived, or shoot him, or stab him and leg it? Why this judicial thing? Do robbers really care about such things? All they wanted was him dead, and possibly to know who was responsible for his death. It's not like they're some kind of secret society or anything.

And why did Trevelyan go to seek Sherlock Holmes in the first place? There was, to his mind, no crime committed. All that happened was that "Blessington" was losing it. I could understand, maybe, his coming to see Watson, although he's not a psychiatrist. But Holmes? Why? What did he expect the detective to do? And in the end, he does nothing and the man dies. Deservedly so, yes, but he still does nothing until after Sutton's death, whereupon he swings into action. It would have almost made more sense for Lanner to have called him in after the apparent suicide, although the inspector had no reason to suspect foul play. I just don't see what the justification for going to Holmes was.

Each time I read this story I keep thinking the thieves were after Sutton to find out where he hid the ill-gotten gains, but they're never mentioned. We can assume, as he is rich enough to set Trevelyan up in practice, that Sutton has at least his share, but surely not all of the seven grand? And if that is the case, why aren't the remaining three looking for their cut? Maybe the "trial" was them attempting to weasel the location of the money out of him, but this is not said. Although betrayed men will look primarily to avenge themselves on the one who shopped them, betrayed thieves are usually more interested, or at least as interested in getting their hands on the money for which they ended up doing time, but nobody speaks of it.

Character Study

Blessington/Sutton: A man of means, he has obviously either held on to his share of the loot from the robbery or, possibly but unlikely, been paid for his betrayal of his companions to the police. He's nervous, as he must expect at some point to have to pay for his betrayal of his comrades, but gets positively paranoid when he reads of their release. He seems to think that setting the doctor up in his practice will help hide him but I don't know why. He's at heart a coward, selling out his friends for presumably a shorter sentence, and then having to live in fear of paying for that act.

Better than you

Holmes certainly shows Inspector Lanner up when, not only does he dismiss the idea of a suicide and point out all the clues that show this to be a murder, and a well-planned one, but also links the case to a bank robbery from 15 years ago.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Holmes is approached by a young doctor who wishes him to talk to his benefactor, who is very agitated. The man will not level with Holmes so he leaves him to it, and the next day it seems this man has committed suicide by hanging himself, but Holmes quickly works out that he has been murdered, and by fellow thieves with whom he pulled a bank robbery, and whom he betrayed to the police.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 9

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1
Indirect: 3
Incidental:
Historical: 1
Total: 5
Running total: 117

Famous Firsts

I believe this is the first and only time Holmes works with Inspector Lanner.

Satisfied Customer(s)?

Again, you'd have to say no. If Trevelyan is taken to be the client, then Holmes really does nothing except work out who has killed his benefactor, and why.

Self-referentials A Study in Scarlet, "The Gloria Scott"

Legal outcome (if any): None; case collapses
:2stars:

Title: "The Greek Interpreter"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 22nd Holmes short story; 10th story in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes; 24th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Regent's Circus; The Diogenes Club, Pall Mall; Charing Cross; Shaftesbury Avenue; Oxford Street; Wandsworth Common; Clapham Junction
Date: Unknown, but it is mentioned to be a summer evening; later it is identified as Wednesday, and the crime, such as it is, occurred the previous Monday.
The crime or the mystery: A man appears to be hostage to a gang, who are trying to get him to sign some paper, which he refuses to do.
The time (if given): 6:00 pm (when Holmes hears of it)


The Players
The client: Mr. Melas, a Greek interpreter and neighbour of Mycroft Holmes
The victim(s): Paul Kratides, a Greek
The accused or suspected: Harold Latimer, one of the hostage takers; Wilson Kemp, the other one
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Gregson
The advocate(s): Mycroft Holmes (well, he introduces Melas to his brother)
The real culprit(s): Latimer and Kemp (and technically Sophy Kratides too)
Others: Sophy Kraitdes, Paul's sister and fiancee to Latimer

The clues: n/a
The red herring(s): n/a
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: A kind of breakthrough I guess when the man who answers the newspaper advertisement gives them the address of Sophy Kratides
The result: Although it's not really a mystery, more a crime, Holmes and Watson arrive too late to stop it being carried out

Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

He and Mycroft both spar with each other as, from the window of the Diogenes Club's Stranger's Room, they make observations about a man outside, each trying to outdo the other ("he has a child" - Sherlock - "Children, my dear boy!" - Mycroft)

Before the case

During the course of a conversation about many subject, Holmes casually reveals to Watson that he has a brother. This is certainly news to the doctor, who seems to have been under the impression Sherlock Holmes was constructed in some laboratory or factory somewhere. They go to visit Mycroft Holmes, in the obscure but exclusive Diogenes Club, where the two trade intellects, and where Holmes learns of the details of the case from one of the other members.

Synopsis:

On a visit to see his brother Mycroft, Holmes and Watson are told of a most curious case, related to them by Mycroft's neighbour, a Greek translator. He says that two days ago he was taken to a house whose location he does not know, and which he was prevented from knowing, and instructed to interpret questions and answers put to a thin, skeletal Greek by two men - the man who brought him there, who gave his name as Latimer, and another, older man with a nervous giggle - as he was repeatedly warned to sign some paper. The man, whom the interpreter, Mr. Melas, managed to discover was named Paul Kratides, refused to sign. The paper seemed to be something to do with his sister, and it looked to Melas as if he was doing all he could to protect her. When he saw his sister though, Melas tells them, he leaped forward and so did she, but the two were separated and Melas was ejected from the house.

Holmes of course takes up the case, but when they receive an answer to an advertisement Mycroft put in the papers for information on the lady, and learn she was living in Beckenham, they consider picking up Mr. Melas, as they will need an interpreter. Unfortunately they are too late, and the giggling hostage-taker has already captured Melas, angry that he has let out their secret and obviously determined to get rid of this inconvenient witness who can't keep his mouth shut. The two Holmeses, Watson and Inspector Gregson arrive too late to save Paul, who has been starved to death and finally succumbs to the poisoned air of the room in which he and Melas have been imprisoned; Melas survives, though just barely. The criminals are gone.

However in a postscript it is revealed that, as Holmes had imagined (and so had Watson really) the criminals were trying to get Paul to sign away his property and that of his sister, and with her brother's death the master detective is sceptical of a later newspaper report which tells of the death of both men and puts it down to the two quarrelling. He feels Sophy took revenge for Paul's death, though what happened to her afterwards is a real mystery.

After the case

Holmes reads the above newspaper report, and nods sagely.

How the case is solved:

It kind of isn't. It's not really a mystery - anyone could suss it out. But it's a crime  Holmes fails to stop really, as Paul dies and Sophy is taken away by Latimer and Wilson.

Comments:

One of the darker stories, and one of the few in which Holmes is not only unable to prevent the crime, but has no real mystery to solve. It's pretty clear from the start what's going on, and it's more a case of Holmes and Watson (and Mycroft) racing to try to save Paul Kratides - something they fail to do, though the chances are he was dying anyway - than trying to solve a mystery. The epilogue seems a little tacked-on, just there to show us readers that even when circumstances are outside of his control, the guilty are always punished in any endeavour in which Holmes is involved. Reminds me a little of the end of "The Five Orange Pips": it's a reassurance that justice triumphs, the bad guys get what's coming to them, even if Holmes has nothing to do with it. Slightly less realistic this way, but I guess that's what the readers wanted.

It's interesting in that the only two female characters in the story - Sophy of course and Mr. Melas's landlady - have one line each (well, the latter has two, but they're part of the same scene and really follow on from each other, so essentially they're the same line), and that Sophy's role in the story is a little unclear. Is she in league with the two men, even if only peripherally? Or is she as much as prisoner as her brother? And if the latter, why then does she not threaten not to marry Latimer and so prevent him getting his hands on her, um, property, if he doesn't let her brother go? Or are they already married? Has she no choice? She's a somewhat enigmatic figure, and as I say above, Doyle's attempt to retrospectively paint her in as an avenging angel is perhaps a little clumsy, an effort at redeeming her maybe.

I do however have serious issues with Melas being let go and told not to rat out the criminals. After all, the guy had seen both Latimer and Wilson's faces; the fact that Paul Kratides had his face disguised with plasters is irrelevant. That was to prevent his sister from recognising him, and anyway Melas would not have known who he was. But he could give a very accurate description of the two kidnappers to the police. Had they taken him seriously and looked up their records or checked, as Holmes said he was going to, with the Athens police, they might have realised they were dealing with at least one desperate man - Doyle describes him as "a man of the foulest antecedents" - and been in time to save Paul. But at any rate, letting Melas take a description of them back, expecting him to be cowed into silence by their threat, does not sound like the sort of thing desperate criminals do. It's always the same: he or she has seen my face, now they have to die.

Had they killed Melas of course, there would have been no story, but I think Doyle could have worked it better - had Melas imprisoned and somehow manage to escape or something. I just feel that letting him go left the kidnappers with a huge problem, one they should have realised they had, and one they could very easily have dealt with.

The idea of the Diogenes Club, where no member is allowed talk to, nor even acknowledge the presence of another, and can in fact be expelled for doing so, is I think a sharp dig at those gentlemen's clubs (no, not them! Different kind of club) where women are not allowed, and men literally seem to go to read newspapers, smoke pipes and ignore each other. Pointless, pathetic and a remnant of a previous century, even in Doyle's time.

Yet another story where someone imprisons or otherwise uses someone in order to take control of their finances. We've had the daughter in "The Copper Beeches", imprisoned in an attic in fine Gothic style by her stepfather, the villainous (again) stepfather in "A Case of Identity" pretending to be Hosmer Angel and then disappearing in order to control his stepdaughter's inheritance, the brutish doctor in "The Speckled Band" going one further and actually murdering one of his stepdaughters and ready to do in the other one in order to get his hands on their cash, and now these two lads, changing the method slightly by putting pressure on the brother of the girl they want to cheat. Even so, it's a familiar thread running through Doyle's stories here, and you'd have to wonder if this sort of thing went on a lot in Victorian England?

Character Study

Mr. Melas: A mild-mannered, inoffensive man who is easily threatened, he does however display considerable courage when, having been warned by Wilson and Latimer not to breathe a word of what he has seen, goes straight to the police, then to Mycroft, who passes the case to his brother. As a result of this, he is kidnapped and very nearly loses his life. Would he have been so solicitous had Paul not been Greek? I feel he would; he is a good man at heart. He had little, indeed nothing to gain by relating the story, but he wanted to help the man, even though he knew it would be dangerous for him to do so.

Paul Kratides: A loyal and caring brother who actually gives his own life to save his sister's fortune. He has no English, and so easily comes under the power of Latimer and Wilson, but he still refuses to sign over the property to these two scoundrels.

Mycroft Holmes: This is the first time we meet him (though it won't be the last) and was probably Doyle's way of "humanising" what could be seen as a very machinelike character. Holmes, our Holmes, doesn't have a single romantic liaison, he doesn't have any friends other than Watson, has no children or wife, and so it's easy to think of him as outside of the human experience, an alien among us. The introduction of his brother shows us, I think, that at least he is human, that he had a mother and a father, and while there's hardly brotherly love between the two - more a sense of sibling rivalry, if good-natured - he does now feel more like one of us.

Mycroft is shown to be even of a sharper intellect than his younger brother - something we would not have believed prior - but lazy and indolent. He is not the sort of man who chases down leads, investigates and certainly would not be expected to climb in windows or scale ladders as our friend does. Still, he gets a little more involved in this case than apparently he normally would, perhaps surprising even himself. He does of course leave all the legwork to his younger brother.

Better than you N/A

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

After listening to a story from a Greek interpreter about a man being held hostage, Holmes and his brother, Watson and Inspector Gregson rush to the house only to find the interpreter, having been kidnapped by the gang, almost dead of asphyxiation, while the man who had been held hostage has passed away. The man was a Greek, trying to save his sister from surrendering all her property to her new fiance, but when Holmes and Co arrive at the house the criminals have legged it. Later  they are both killed, and Holmes suspects the sister took revenge..

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 9

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1
Indirect: 0
Incidental 0:
Historical: 0
Total: 1
Running total: 118

Famous Firsts First mention of Mycroft Holmes, older brother to the master detective

Satisfied Customer(s)? Not at all; Paul dies and the bad guys get away, though they do get their comeuppance later. This has nothing to do with Holmes however.

Self-referentials None

Legal outcome (if any): None; murder is committed and the criminals get away. Again, if you're a fan of the Big Guy, apparently vengeance is His.
:3.5stars:

Title: "The Naval Treaty"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 23rd Holmes short story; 11th in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes; 25th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Watson's house; Baker Street; Waterloo; Briarbrae, Woking, Surrey (in the telling: Charles Street; Ivy Lane, Brixton); Scotland Yard; Downing Street
Date: May 23
The crime or the mystery: The theft of an important naval treaty document
The time (if given): 9:45 pm


The Players
The client: Percy Phelps, a clerk in the Foreign Office
The victim(s): Percy Phelps (and by extension the Foreign Office and by further extension England)
The accused or suspected: None
The arrested: Possibly Joseph Harrison, possibly nobody
The investigating officer(s): Mr. Forbes
The advocate(s): Watson; Annie Harrison, Percy's fiancee
The real culprit(s): Joseph Harrison
Others: Lord Holdhurst, Foreign Secretary and uncle to Percy Phelps; Mr. Tangey, the commissionaire; Mrs. Tangey, his wife; Unnamed police constable; Dr. Ferrier

The clues: A bell ringing in an empty office; an attempted break-in in Briarbrae
The red herring(s): The precipitous departure of the commissionaire's wife from the Foreign Office building and his attempts to dissuade Phelps from following her; an apparently broken fence
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: After the attempted break-in, Holmes realises it is Joseph Harrison trying to retrieve the treaty from where he has hidden it
The result: The treaty is recovered and returned to Phelps

Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

Before the case

Watson receives a letter from an old schoolfriend, asking for his help and that of Holmes, though he does not describe his issue, asking them both to come visit him. Watson seeks out Holmes (he has been married for a few months now and so no longer resides at Baker Street) who is in the final stages of solving another small mystery, which he finishes and then turns to the letter Watson has brought him, agreeing that they should indeed take the case.

Synopsis:

Percy Phelps tells Holmes and Watson that he had been instructed to copy out an important naval treaty by his boss, the Foreign Secretary (also his uncle) and it has been stolen. He had (rather foolishly) left it on his desk when he went to get coffee, and while downstairs heard a bell ring up in his office, where only he had been. Rushing back up, he found the original gone. After a false chase after the wife of the commissionaire, who had seemed to be acting suspiciously, he was unable to recover the paper, and promptly fell into a "brain fever", in which he has been for the last nine weeks, hence his delay in writing to Watson. After grilling him on the layout of his office and establishing what facts he can, Holmes goes back to London with Watson.

They then go to see Forbes, the detective who is in charge of the case. Mostly though he has a whole lot of nothing, having confirmed Mrs. Tangey's alibi for her strange behaviour and also ascertained the family have no money worries. On their return to Woking the next day they are told that there was an attempted break in; Phelps awoke to find someone trying his window, but when he challenged the man he ran off. After a quick search around the grounds, Holmes returns to the house and asks Annie to remain in the room she is in all day; she is not to move from there for any reason, and at night she must lock the door and keep the key. Meanwhile, Phelps will, he says, return with him and Watson to London. Her brother seems anxious she leave the room, but having promised Holmes she pleads a headache and refuses.

However, instead of returning to London, Holmes remains behind, mystifying both Phelps and Watson, and returns in the morning. Deciding to play a little trick on Phelps, he hides the recovered treaty under a covered serving platter, and when he asks the man to lift the lid Phelps is beside himself with joy. Holmes then goes on to outline the events which transpired after he left them, and which led to his success in getting the naval treaty restored. Having visited the little village of Ripley, he tells them, and stocked up on some food, he returned to the house. On arriving he spied on Annie and noted she had done exactly as he instructed her, locking the room when she left and taking the key. Then he settled down in the bushes to wait.

He had a while to wait: another three hours and more before Joseph Harrison appeared again at the window, broke in and recovered the treaty from where he had hidden it under the floorboards. As he left, Holmes apprehended him, though the man gave him a good fight. After the miscreant had fled, Holmes wired his details to Forbes and returned to London with the treaty. He does mention that should Harrison get away it might not be the worst possible outcome, as it will save the government from a scandal. If it's revealed that an important naval treaty was left where anyone could see it, and that it was robbed, it will be very embarrassing for the Prime Minister, the Foreign Office and everyone concerned.

As to how he caught Joseph Harrison, Holmes explains that he had first suspected the brother-in-law when Phelps noted that he had been trying to finish the copying of the treaty in order to accompany Joseph home, and so he would have had to call for Phelps, and was familiar with the layout of the office. Next, when someone tried to break into the bedroom - which had been Joseph's until he was turned out when Phelps took ill - it was obvious to Holmes that Joseph had hidden the treaty there, especially as the attempt came the first night Annie was not there looking after her fiance. When the news of Joseph's financial woes came to light - he had invested heavily and lost heavily in stocks - Holmes knew he had his man.

As for the bell ringing, he conjectures that when Joseph went to see Phelps originally he had had no base intentions, and so rang the bell when he did not find his brother-in-law there. Only then did he see the treaty, and, in a crime of opportunity, took it in order to sell it to the highest bidder.

After the case

Nothing really. The case, as such, ends with Holmes' clever and theatrical reveal, and the rest of the story is taken up with his explanation as to how he caught the thief.

How the case is solved:

See second-last paragraph of the synopsis

Comments:

Again I'm afraid I find the whole point of this story ludicrous. If I was given a valuable document - valuable not only for my own career but for the security of my country, as he well knows it is - I would never leave it unattended in my office, of all reasons, to get a cup of coffee! At worst, I'd shout down the stairs or send someone (or do without it) but surely Phelps could have either taken the treaty with him or at least locked it in a secure drawer? The cavalier attitude with which he abandons this most important piece of paper could, perhaps, be partially blamed on his tiredness, but even so, it's monumentally stupid. Surely he would make every effort to ensure it was never out of his sight? Yet we're supposed to believe he leaves it, in an unlocked office (I don't know if he has the key, but if he's the last one there you'd imagine he does) and heads downstairs for a brew! As if.

Not only that, but Holmes' dismissive hope that Harrison gets away and so saves the government from having to deal with a scandal ignores the fact that the man is a traitor, ready to sell his country out for money. Surely, in those volatile times, with the death penalty still in full force, they would want to catch and punish him, even if the details had to be hushed up and the trial took place in a sort of star chamber? Letting him get away with what could be potentially an act that could lead to war seems short-sighted and self-serving, and not the sort of forbearance and leniency one would expect from Her Majesty's government at this time of strained relationships and fracturing alliances.

There's also no mention made of how this revelation about her brother affects Annie, as she is utterly dispensed with once she has served her purpose in preventing Joseph from gaining entrance to the room before Holmes is ready to take him. The explanation - indeed, the handing over of the treaty - is all accomplished in Baker  Street, and she is not there. Does she even know her brother is a thief and a traitor? No mention is made of her again; Phelps doesn't even make reference to her, so happy is he to have his reputation saved.

Oh, and what's in a name? Isn't Annie Harrison just two letters removed from the mysterious and never explained Annie Morrison from "The Reigate Puzzle"?

Character Study

Joseph Harrison: A man with few morals, he fancies himself something of an expert on the stock market but loses everything, and as a result is in deep debt. When his sister becomes engaged to a young man at the Foreign Office, he takes the  chance fate throws in his path and robs the naval treaty. He does not consider how this will affect his sister or her husband-to-be. He does not, it would seem, even think about the consequences of betraying his country. He's all about the money. He's also a violent man, as he takes a swing at Holmes with a knife.

Percy Phelps: A nervous, highly-strung man who, when he realises the treaty has been stolen, falls into a swoon ("brain fever") and is ill for several weeks before he can call in Watson and Holmes. He surely realises that if his career is done due to his misfortune (a stupid mistake, I call it - see above under "Comments") then he may no longer be the match for Annie Harrison that he thought he would. A disgraced clerk, fired from his position at the Foreign Office, perhaps inadvertently responsible for his nation being dragged into war, is not quite the prospect a young girl dreams of. Not that she would care, but you'd have to imagine her family would have something to say about it. In fact, if he had not been caught, perhaps Joseph, as her elder brother, would have been the one to twist the knife further and tear the two of them apart, telling Annie she could not ally herself with a man involved in such a scandal. Wouldn't that have been ironic?

Character UN-Study:

I feel that this may be needed in order to explore those characters who should be more than they are, and in this first case I focus on Annie Harrison. She is crucial to the story - without a) her marrying Phelps her brother would never have come into contact with him and therefore never have had temptation thrust in his path; b) her tossing her brother out of his room and taking it over in order to minister to her fiance and c) her obeying Holmes' instructions and keeping Joseph from entering the bedroom, the case could not even have come about never mind be solved. Yet she is barely sketched in: "a good sort" Holmes calls her, and "a girl of strong character", but other than some vague information about her parents we're told little else about her. I think she has a bigger role to play in the story than Doyle allows for, and he has shortchanged his character here in my view. It is, however, sadly typical of the way most if not all females are treated by the author: they're either a means to an end or they're in the way as very peripheral characters.

Let's then look at Mrs. Tangey: there's a sense of perhaps misogyny or just classism about Holmes' almost disappointment that the commissionaire's wife is innocent when he shrugs "she seems to have an answer for everything." Well yes she does, because she's not guilty or involved in this in any way, but the detective seems to feel that she could be, or even should be. Her flight fits in with his original theory, and he seems annoyed that it has come to nothing. Leave aside the fact that the woman is innocent: I feel the underlying sentiment here - and I hope not, but it does seem to me to be the case - is, she's common and needs money so it must have been her. If this is so, then again Doyle does poor service indeed to yet another female character.

Better than you

In this case Forbes, the investigating officer, is nothing more than a two-dimensional caricature of a policeman really. Unlike Lestrade or even Gregson, we're told very little about him, other than that he is a "foxy little man", and has quite the wrong idea about Holmes' methods, believing the detective takes praise for the work of others, when it is in fact the reverse, as we know. Holmes then basically does all his work for him and lets him know where Harrison can be found, but feel Forbes is unlikely to even be up to the simple task of taking the thief. To be fair, Forbes does eliminate Tangey and his wife from his suspect list, but other than one other clerk who was there in the office at the time, but who left early, he has no other suspects and has basically given up the case, so Holmes' solving it must really rankle in one way, and certainly shows him up as a very poor specimen of Scotland Yard indeed.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Watson gets a letter from a friend of his who works at the Foreign Office. The man has had an important document stolen, and despite several leads it has not turned up. Holmes tricks his brother-in-law, Joseph Harrison, into revealing where he has hidden it and then retrieves it, saving the reputation of Watson's friend, and saving his country from a potential war.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 9

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 0
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 0
Historical: 0
Total: 0
Running total: 118

Famous Firsts

Satisfied Customer(s)? Very much so; Phelp's reputation - and job - are saved and England too is saved from a possible war.

Self-referentials "The Speckled Band"

Legal outcome (if any): Unsure; Holmes passes the details of Joseph Harrison to the police, but we're not told if he is apprehended, and even if he is, the government probably want to hush the whole thing up.
:3stars:

Title: "The Final Problem"
Year first published: 1893
Type: Short story
Chronology: 24th Holmes short story; 12th and final  in The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes; 26th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Watson's surgery and home; (in Holmes' telling: Bentinck Street; Welbeck Street, Marylebone Lane; Vere Street; Pall Mall); Mortimer Street; Lowther Arcade; Victoria Station; Canterbury; Newhaven; Dieppe; Brussels; Strasbourg; Interlaken; Meiringen; Reichenbach Falls
Date: April 24 1891
The crime or the mystery: Actually no mystery; the crime is the murder of Holmes *+*
The time (if given): evening


The Players
The client: None
The victim(s): Sherlock Holmes *+*
The accused or suspected: Professor Moriarty
The arrested: None (initially)
The investigating officer(s): n/a
The advocate(s): n/a
The real culprit(s): Professor Moriarty *+*
Others: Mycroft Holmes, in a very peripheral supporting role as a coachman; Peter Steiler the elder, owner of the Englischer Hof

*+* = But see "The Return of Sherlock Holmes"

The clues: n/a
The red herring(s): n/a
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: Italian priest
The breakthrough: n/a
The result: Death of Holmes *+* and of Moriarty


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case: None; for once, Holmes is more in fear of his life than interested in making clever observations.

Before the case

Again, this story takes place after Watson has married and so he is not lodging with Holmes. In fact, he says at the beginning that the number of cases the great detective has engaged his assistance on has been steadily decreasing, but one day in April Holmes appears at his door, flustered and wary, talking of air-guns. He tells Watson about Professor Moriarty, a criminal genius who controls all the gangs, all the robberies, all the schemes of the London underworld. Watson has never heard of the man, which is not surprising, as Doyle merely invented him for this story, despite the fact that he has gone down in Sherlockian mythology as the man's constant nemesis.

Through many efforts and over many months Holmes has managed to trap all the criminals, and there is a huge trial to take place when the police move in three days. However today Moriarty came to see him and threatened his life if he did not stop his endeavours. True to his word, the Professor sent many agents against him, all of which Holmes has eluded. But he knows his luck cannot last forever, and asks Watson to come to Europe with him. His friend agrees, and essentially here the case begins, such as it is.

Synopsis:

Having made it to the train station the next morning, Watson is aghast to see no sign of Holmes. However the wily detective has of course come in disguise, this time as an Italian priest, and only barely in time to fool Moriarty, who is already in pursuit. Having narrowly avoided the master criminal, Holmes and Watson make their way across Europe until they arrive at the small Swiss town of Meiringen. Here Holmes learns that, despite his best efforts, though all of his gang and confederates have been taken by the police, Moriarty has escaped. He suggests Watson return to England, as it is now too dangerous to be in his company, but his friend of course pours scorn on such an idea. He will remain with him to the last.

On leaving the hotel there, and on the way to see the grand sight of the Reichenbach Falls, Watson is called back to the hotel to look after an English woman who has taken a turn. Arriving back at the hotel he is aghast to find the call has been a ruse, and by the time he gets back to where he left Holmes, his old friend is gone. A note left under a rock at the edge of the falls explains that Moriarty has, as Holmes had expected, caught up with them, and that the two were to meet in single combat above the Falls. The professor has given Holmes leave to write a farewell letter to Watson. The doctor can only surmise that both men have fallen to their deaths, as there is no sign of either.

After the case

The end of the case brings us back to the beginning, when Watson was writing with a heavy heart about the loss of his friend. It is three years later, and still he has not had the courage or desire to put the events of Sherlock Holmes' final case *+* into words. However, as a relative of Moriarty now seeks to clear his name and slanders Holmes, Watson has felt it incumbent upon him to detail the true story. His account ends by describing Holmes as "the best and wisest man whom I have ever known."

How the case is solved: n/a

Comments:

As everyone and his mother knows, this was originally intended to be the last Sherlock Holmes story. Doyle, feeling constricted by the almost Frankenstein monster he had created, and feeling the character was taking him over and not allowing him to concentrate on other works, had decided to finally kill off his greatest creation. But he had reckoned without his - or rather, we should say, Sherlock Holmes' - adoring public, and there was a huge outcry and a demand to bring back the master detective, which he was eventually forced to do. There are good points in this, and bad. The good is that this "final" story was written before his accepted tour-de-force classic, everyone's favourite and the most popular and most-filmed of his stories, "The Hound of the Baskervilles", so had he been allowed to kill off Holmes we would never have had this wonderful tale. The bad is that, being forced to resurrect Holmes takes much of the impact of his "death" away after you've read this.

Although Doyle had no intention of bringing him back, and although I must admit the way he comes back and the effect it has on the mourning Watson is superb and very moving, this could have served as a fitting end for the detective. Wrapped in the arms of his nemesis (although only introduced here, which is a pity, as it again robs Moriarty of some of his impact), plunging into the cold unforgiving waters and the sharp jagged rocks of the Reichenbach Falls (what an appropriate word!), far from home, content to give his life so that Moriarty be defeated, it stands - or would have - as the ultimate gesture of sacrifice, the triumphant victory of justice over crime, of good over evil, of right over wrong. And in that plunge, their shared death, as it was to have been, Holmes melds the two halves of him together, in effect grappling with his darker self and defeating it, though at the cost of his own life.

Nobody can blame Doyle for the lessening of the effect of the story, since it was not a cheap ploy to sell books or bump up flagging interest. He really did intend to kill Holmes off, but for once the character determined his own destiny, and forced the author to bring him back to life. In some ways, it would have been a thankless death for Holmes. One would think that when he died, his coffin should have been paraded through the streets of London, flanked by an honour guard of police, with tens or even hundreds of lining the way, bidding farewell to the man who had made their city a safer place. To die, alone, in a foreign country, his body never even recovered for burial, would, in retrospect, have been a poor ending for such a towering figure of literature. So perhaps it's as well Doyle's plans were thwarted, and public opinion won in the end.

I echo again my annoyance though that Moriarty was only introduced here - and I think features in one other story - yet has gone down in history as Holmes' eternal arch enemy. It's like he was specially crafted to allow the great detective's death to mean something, but personally I feel it would have meant more had we been following the struggle between the two over a number of stories. For me, Moriarty is - and I'm sure almost everyone will disagree with me here, but I'm used to that - a lazy plot device and an agency to kill off Holmes. Who else, after all, could be expected to have bested the great sleuth? Perhaps Irene Adler? We never hear from her again. The trouble, here, with Doyle is that Holmes defeats all his adversaries and leaves few if any to seek revenge. So one had to be manufactured that would be his equal.

As we will discuss below, Moriarty is of course another side of Holmes, the dark side, so to speak - Darth Vader to his Obi-Wan Kenobi - a chilling vision of what Holmes might have become had he, as many a Scotland Yard detective remarked on occasion, turned to committing crime instead of combatting it. Doyle shows us, through Moriarty, what this "dark Holmes" might have been like, and even the master detective himself, though he abhors Moriarty, holds a grudging respect for him, and realises how alike the two are.

Was there another reason for "killing off" his hero outside of England, I wonder? Can it be that Doyle did not want the soil of his own country tainted with the blood of Holmes, essentially responsible for his death? Was he afraid that if the story had been set in England (this is one of only very few that are not, at least, not entirely) the site of Holmes' death might become some sort of shrine, a place people might visit? It had already become clear that many of his readers were unaware of, or refused to accept that there was any difference between the character and reality: Doyle regularly received letters addressed not to him but to Sherlock Holmes. Is it stretching it too far to think there might have been those who would have believed he had been literally - rather than literarily - killed, and who might want to visit the place he fell? In transferring the action, at least for his planned death, to Switzerland, was Doyle abrogating responsibility for the end of the master detective from England and pushing it onto "foreigners"? Is this one of the greatest acts of literary xenophobism in history? Or am I, as usual, talking bollocks? As the man from the Carlsberg ads says, probably.

The true effect of Holmes' "death" on his greatest friend and partner is not really seen until Doyle brings him back in "The Empty House", and we learn more of how Watson has coped with years of being without his best friend, and expecting never to see him again. Here, there isn't really that much said, possibly because Doyle didn't wish to overstate the case in the persona of the doctor, thereby giving rise to the feelings of anger and the demand for his resurrection that, well, happened anyway. He probably hoped he could lock this room for one final time and pocket the key. However, he of all people should know that it takes more than a lock to keep Sherlock Holmes out - or in - and a locked-room mystery is just the sort of thing the world's only consulting detective needs to bring him back to life.

Character Study

Professor Moriarty: There can be only one character study here, and while he has gone down as the nemesis of Sherlock Holmes, up to now we have known absolutely nothing of this man. Holmes tells us that is because the professor is so clever, but in reality it's because Doyle has just invented him for this story. Talk about a character having such a brief existence yet outliving his own mortal life and becoming all but immortal! Moriarty is a brilliant man, very much the equal of Holmes, and the master detective fears that if anyone can best him, it is the professor. With a sharp, analytical mind but the traits of the master criminal, Moriarty is able to use the kind of intelligence and strategy Holmes employs to help solve crimes to instead commit them, or assist in their commission.

He is said to have a professorial look about him, a rather older man, but is as vicious as a snake, and when everything else fails he is ready to get his hands dirty by taking Holmes on physically, all intellectual fencing dispensed with as the two men literally grapple at the precipice and fall over together. *+* Like Holmes, he seems to have a sneaking admiration for his adversary, even trying to convince him to drop his case, saying he will be sorry if he has to be the agency of his death, but that his reluctance will not stop him doing what must be done. He retains enough of his gentlemanly upbringing to allow Holmes to write a farewell note to Watson, and does not, it seems, for a moment consider that his enemy will either take the opportunity to escape, or try to leave any clue for Watson, though he does tell him where the final evidence to convict the gang may be found, discharging his last responsibility to Scotland Yard.

Here, to be fair, though he is the main antagonist of the story, we don't really learn all that much about him. Like a baby who has suddenly grown to full adulthood, he is presented as a fait accompli, the "spider in the web" who directs all of London's crimes, and to I suppose his credit Doyle doesn't make too much of an issue inserting him retrospectively into his previous stories, except as a vague, shadowy figure. Later adaptations on radio, TV and in movies would elevate the man to the status of an arch-villain, adding him to rewritten versions of the old stories and casting him in starring roles in new ones. It would be as if he was always there, and I myself was surprised to find, the first time, how very little he figures in the original writings of Arthur Conan Doyle. In a way, it's probably a pity he wasn't allowed to survive too, and go on to menace Holmes in his newly resurrected life. Bit of a waste, really, I feel.

Better than you Not this time.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

After he has arranged for all of the criminal gang led by Professor Moriarty to be taken by the police, Holmes has to flee to Switzerland, under threat of death from the professor, who is as good as his word. Following him and Watson, Moriarty manages to get the doctor and Holmes separated, and when Watson returns to the Reichenbach Falls, where he had left his friend, Holmes is gone. A note explains that he has a battle to fight with Moriarty, and it is clear from the result that both men perished.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 1 (Although hundreds, perhaps thousands of Moriarty's network of criminals are taken, tehre are no details and anyway the main "big fish" he was after was Moriarty, who, ironically, he has to take with him *+* into oblivion)
Running total: 10

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1 (Moriarty; obviously I don't include Holmes himself)
Indirect: 0
Incidental : 0
Historical: 0
Total: 1
Running total: 119

Famous Firsts First appearance of Professor Moriarty, first time Holmes is seen to fail *+*

Satisfied Customer(s)? Hardly; Holmes is killed *+* though he does achieve his objective

Self-referentials "A Study in Scarlet", "The Naval Treaty" ("The Second Stain" is also mentioned, but since it is a later story, and since what's described here is not that story at all,  I don't include it)

Legal outcome (if any): Moriarty's gang arrested and Moriarty himself, though he escapes, is killed when he and Holmes plunge into the Reichenbach Falls *+*
:5stars:

Title: The Hound of the Baskervilles
Year first published:  1902
Type: Novel
Chronology: 3rd Holmes novel; 27th Holmes story overall
Location(s): Baker Street; Oxford Street; Regent Street; Northumberland Hotel; Baskerville Hall, Dartmoor - Baskerville Hall, The Great Grimpen Mire, Train Station, Coombe Tracey, The Moors
Date: 1899
The crime or the mystery: The death of Sir Charles Baskerville and the threat to the life of his successor and heir, Sir Henry.
The time (if given): Morning


The Players
The client: Dr. James Mortimer, a country surgeon
The victim(s): Sir Charles (and by extension, the threat to Sir Henry) Baskerville
The accused or suspected: None (Barrymore is suspected of something, but it turns out to be, not quite innocent, but a species of red herring)
The arrested: None
The investigating officer(s): Inspector Lestrade
The advocate(s): Dr. Mortimer
The real culprit(s): Jack Stapleton, the naturalist
Others: John Barrymore, butler to Sir Henry; Mrs. Eliza Barrymore, his wife; Mr. Frankland, a crotchety old man fond of taking lawsuits against everyone; Miss Beryl Stapleton, originally introduced as the naturalist's sister but found later to be his wife; Cartwright, a messenger boy put into Holmes' service; Seldon, an escaped criminal and brother to Mrs. Barrymore

The clues: One of Sir Henry's boots, then the other, going missing; a note warning him to stay away from the moors; a strange man following Sir Henry and Dr. Mortimer, and giving his name as Sherlock Holmes; a portrait of Sir Hugh Baskerville;
The red herring(s): Barrymore's odd behaviour at the window of Baskerville Hall; the sound of his wife crying; the possibility of his being the one following Mortimer and Sir Henry in the cab on the London streets
Disguise(s) affected by Holmes: None
The breakthrough: When Holmes realises who Stapleton really is
The result: Sir Henry is saved - barely - the Hound shot and Stapleton is most likely killed when he vanishes into the Great Grimpen Mire.


Deductions made by Holmes which have nothing to do with the case:

After perhaps rather cruelly putting Watson through his paces, asking him to deduce what he can from the walking stick left behind by Dr. Mortimer - whom they have not yet met - Holmes proceeds to demolish most of his friend's assertions, which seems really more an exercise in ego and a somewhat disturbing humiliation of his friend.

He also correctly dates the parchment Dr. Mortimer carries. Later he is able to tell that Watson has spent the day at his club.

Before the case

Holmes and Watson discuss the walking stick left in their apartments, the former trying to have the latter work out who it belongs to by using the methods of deduction the master detective has so often used. When Dr. Mortimer appears, or rather, returns, he tells them of the death of Sir Charles Baskerville of Baskerville Hall in Dartmoor, and of the imminent arrival of his heir, Sir Henry, and his fear for the young lord's life. He reads an account of an ancient legend which holds that a great beast, a huge dog, roams the moors and is attached to the doom of the Baskerville family, following the evil events of one night in the time of the English Civil War (1642 - 1651), when Sir Hugh Baskerville caused the untimely death of a girl after having abducted her. It is said that a huge hound ripped out his throat, and that ever since, the family has been under its curse.

Although Holmes scoffs at such notions, being the man of science that he is, he cannot deny that Sir Charles is dead, and that Dr. Mortimer seems to believe foul play was involved, having noted, before they were washed away, the footprints of a giant dog beside the corpse of Sir Charles. . With the arrival of Sir Henry in the country, Holmes agrees to see the heir to the Baskerville dynasty, and see what he can do.

Synopsis:

Sir Henry arrives the next morning - having reached London the previous morning - with Dr. Mortimer, and presenting a note that was delivered to his hotel, warning him not to come to Dartmoor as his life may be in danger. Holmes is quickly able to locate the newspaper from which the words have been cut, and notes other peculiarities about the missive. Sir Henry is mystified enough that someone should know he was staying at that particular hotel, never mind try to warn him off. Holmes cannot answer that, but as they remind Sir Henry of the legend of the Baskerville hound, Holmes tells him of the curious sightings of such a hound prior to his uncle's death, and about Dr. Mortimer's suspicions (which at this point are not his own). Sir Henry then tells them that one of his new boots has gone missing, and Holmes seems to think this may be important.

After they have made arrangements to visit Sir Henry for dinner, Holmes and Watson follow them out into the street at a distance, and note a cab following their friends, out of which leers a man with a thick black beard. On catching sight of Holmes though he has the cabby speed off. At lunch Sir Henry is beside himself: another boot has gone missing, and he is furious. They discuss the estate of the Baskervilles, which comes close to a million pounds, and Holmes notes that men would do much for such a sum. But there is no clear suspect, and before they leave Sir Henry unexpectedly finds his old boot, the second one taken, though nobody in the hotel seems to know how it was returned, or where it was found. Holmes asks Watson to accompany Sir Henry and Dr. Mortimer to Dartmoor, and they plan to leave at the weekend.

That evening Holmes has a reply to his advertisement about the cab that shadowed Dr. Mortimer and Sir Henry, and the driver tells him, completely to his surprise, that the man's name was Sherlock Holmes! The next day he sees Watson and Sir Henry and Dr. Mortimer off on the train. Arriving at Dartmoor the three find that there is a manhunt in progress for an escaped murderer called Selden, and when they get to Baskerville Hall the dark mood this news has thrown them into - coupled with the grey bleakness of the moors - is not lifted, as it is a sombre, unwelcoming and dreary place. During the night, Watson swears he hears a woman's sobbing, but nobody else seems to have heard it. However, life with Sherlock Holmes has not left the doctor unobservant, and he notes red rings around Mrs. Barrymore's eyes the next morning, though her husband denies she was crying.

The next morning Watson, seeing that Sir Henry has correspondence to answer, sets out across the moors alone, and meets Stapleton, the local naturalist, who shows him the Great Grimpen Mire, a swampy, marshy bogland where it is death to tread. He invites him to his house to meet his sister, but just then they hear a horrible moaning sound coming from the direction of the Mire. Stapleton dismisses it, but Watson can't help but be reminded of the legend of the Hound. Stapleton also points out the structures left behind by neolithic man, large stone houses, the only remnant of our ancient forefathers. When he goes off in pursuit of an insect, leaving Watson alone, the doctor is approached by his sister, who mistakes him for Sir Henry, and admonishes him for not heeding her note. At least now they know who sent it! But Watson quickly points out her mistake, and Miss Stapleton, though embarrassed, tries to impress upon the doctor the urgent need for him to convince his companion to return to London.

With the confusion sorted out after her brother rejoins them, they travel on to the Stapleton house, where Watson learns the man was a teacher once, but that an epidemic broke out and three of the children in his care died, and he gave it up, moving south with his sister. Inevitably, of course, Sir Henry falls for Beryl, which seems to really anger Stapleton, something which mystifies Watson. Would not her brother want her to be happy, and to make such a prestigious and advantageous match? But he seems to go out of his way to keep them separate, and does not wish them well. Watson is also introduced to Mr. Frankland, a somewhat interfering old busybody who likes to litigate for the sheer fun of it.

As recompense for a perceived slight against him, Sir Henry gives Barrymore some of his old suits. This seems a trivial point, but must be mentioned as Doyle uses this piece of throwaway information to great effect later, in a rather masterful piece of plot writing and wrong-footing of the reader. Barrymore himself falls under suspicion when he is seen signalling to someone out on the moor with a candle, and Sir Henry and Watson surmise that for some reason he is in contact with Selden, the escaped murderer. They go out after him but he escapes. While out there two interesting things happen: Watson sees the figure of a man standing on a hill, motionless, as if watching them, and the baying sound echoes across the moor again, hurrying them both home. When Barrymore refuses to admit what his connection is to the criminal, Sir Henry dismisses him angrily, but Barrymore's wife comes clean and says that Selden is her brother, and that her husband was only acting on her behalf. Annoyed, but relenting now, Sir Henry rescinds the dismissal. In return, and as thanks for their promise not to give his wife's brother up to the police, Barrymore tells them of a letter Sir Charles had received just prior to his death, signed with the initials L.L. He does not know who this is, but it seems clear, from the letter, which begged him to meet this person, that it was she (the letter makes it plain it was written by a woman) upon whom Sir Charles was waiting the night of his death. So if they can find out who L.L. is, they might be a step closer to solving the mystery.

Luckily, Dr. Mortimer knows of a lady called Laura Lyons, who is in fact the daughter of Frankland, he who likes to sue everyone. He tells Watson that her father cut her off because she married without his consent (and her husband deserted her) and that she lives on a pittance in a place called Coombe Tracey. Surely she is the L.L. who wrote the letter to Sir Charles? On visiting her, Watson finds this indeed to be the case: persecuted by her husband, against whom she has taken divorce proceedings, and with little money, she had hoped Sir Charles would help her but at the last moment had not kept  the appointment because she received help from another quarter. The next day, of course, she read of the death of Sir Charles. Leaving her with some facts but not all - and in some cases, more new questions - Watson goes in search of the strange man he saw that night out on the moor, and, having been advised by Barrymore, through his contact with Selden,  that he is known to be staying at one of the ancient stone huts, it is for here he heads.

When he gets there the hut is empty but there are signs of habitation. He waits for its occupant and is awestruck to find that it is in fact Holmes, who has come down secretly to Dartmoor without telling him. Reunited, the two form a plan and share information. Holmes tells Watson that Laura Lyons' mysterious benefactor is most likely Stapleton, for the two are intimately involved, and he also reveals that Beryl is not his sister but his wife. Just then they hear a horrible scream,and the cry of the hound,  and run to find a body lying on the ground. The man's neck is broken, he having fallen from the cliff, and Holmes moans that it is Sir Henry, but it turns out to be Selden, wearing the clothes Barrymore had procured from the baronet (see? I told you. What a wonderful piece of writing!). They are joined by Stapleton, who seems disappointed when he realises that the body is not that of Sir Henry, and both Holmes and Watson know this is their man but cannot prove it yet. Holmes says he needs another day or two to come up with the evidence, and asks Watson to carefully guard Sir Henry during that time. Holmes pretends aloud that he is going back to London in the morning.

When they rejoin Sir Henry Holmes notices the resemblance in the portrait of Hugo Baskerville to Stapleton, and now it's obvious the man is an heir to the property, and why he wants to kill Sir Henry. Concocting a plan, Holmes asks Sir Henry to accept the invitation to dinner he has received from Stapleton the next evening, but again pushes the fiction that he - and Watson, this time - are returning to London. He instructs the baronet to walk home across the moors, which surprises Sir Henry, as he has been counselled - by Holmes, indeed - not to do this under any circumstances. But he trusts the detective and agrees to follow his instructions. Holmes of course does not go back but instead to Coombe Tracey, where he and Watson interview Laura Lyons again, laying out Stapleton's duplicity - she has been unaware he is already married, and had planned to be his wife - and securing her help. She tells them that it was Stapleton who suggested she write to Sir Charles, then dissuaded her from keeping the appointment. Holmes says she is lucky to be alive.

He has sent for Lestrade, who arrives by the afternoon train, and they set their plans. They wait outside Stapleton's house that night until they see Sir Henry leave, then follow him as he is attacked by the hound, which Holmes and Watson both shoot dead. It turns out to be some gigantic hybrid of bloodhound and mastiff, and has been painted with phosphorus to give it a more supernatural, devilish look. Returning to the house to search for Stapleton, they find his wife tied up and badly beaten, the naturalist fled. It is accepted that he ran into the Great Grimpen Mire, as he is never seen alive again.

After the case

In the final chapter Holmes lays out a full explanation for what transpired, mostly centring on Stapleton's desire to gain the Baskerville inheritance. He was, the detective tells Watson as they discuss the case back in Baker Street some weeks later, the son of one of the other heirs, dead and believed never to have married, though he did. His wife he had met in South America, where he had been born, and while he may once have loved her, she was more his tool than anything else. He also used Laura Lyons, and the legend of the Hound to his advantage.

Sir Henry, distraught at how he has been played by Beryl Stapleton (in reality, one supposes, Beryl Baskerville) leaves to travel the world with Dr. Mortimer, hoping to regain his health - he slipped into a fever, both from the attack by the Hound and due to Beryl's betrayal of him - and his happiness. Nothing is mentioned of what happens to Beryl, an accomplice but perhaps an unwilling one, nor indeed Laura Lyons. Lestrade's presence has been all but unnecessary, as he's barely mentioned and figures little, even in the short part of the story in which he takes part.

How the case is solved:

Given this is a novel, and that Holmes' encapsulation of the case takes up the final chapter, I'm going to cheat and reproduce it here:

(Note: apologies for the poor justification; it's how it pasted in)

"The whole course of events," said Holmes, "from the point of view of
the man who called himself Stapleton was simple and direct, although to
us, who had no means in the beginning of knowing the motives of his
actions and could only learn part of the facts, it all appeared exceedingly
complex. I have had the advantage of two conversations with Mrs.
Stapleton, and the case has now been so entirely cleared up that I am not
aware that there is anything which has remained a secret to us. You will
find a few notes upon the matter under the heading B in my indexed list
of cases."
"Perhaps you would kindly give me a sketch of the course of events
from memory."
"Certainly, though I cannot guarantee that I carry all the facts in my
mind. Intense mental concentration has a curious way of blotting out what
has passed. The barrister who has his case at his fingers' ends and is able
to argue with an expert upon his own subject finds that a week or two of
the courts will drive it all out of his head once more. So each of my cases
displaces the last, and Mlle. Carere has blurred my recollection of
Baskerville Hall. To-morrow some other little problem may be submitted
to my notice which will in turn dispossess the fair French lady and the
infamous Upwood. So far as the case of the hound goes, however, I will
give you the course of events as nearly as I can, and you will suggest
anything which I may have forgotten.
"My inquiries show beyond all question that the family portrait did not
lie, and that this fellow was indeed a Baskerville. He was a son of that
Rodger Baskerville, the younger brother of Sir Charles, who fled with a
sinister reputation to South America, where he was said to have died
unmarried. He did, as a matter of fact, marry, and had one child, this
fellow, whose real name is the same as his father's. He married Beryl
Garcia, one of the beauties of Costa Rica, and, having purloined a
considerable sum of public money, he changed his name to Vandeleur
[762] and fled to England, where he established a school in the east of
Yorkshire. His reason for attempting this special line of business was that
he had struck up an acquaintance with a consumptive tutor upon the
voyage home, and that he had used this man's ability to make the
undertaking a success. Fraser, the tutor, died, however, and the school
which had begun well sank from disrepute into infamy. The Vandeleurs
found it convenient to change their name to Stapleton, and he brought the
remains of his fortune, his schemes for the future, and his taste for
entomology to the south of England. I learn at the British Museum that he
was a recognized authority upon the subject, and that the name of
Vandeleur has been permanently attached to a certain moth which he had,
in his Yorkshire days, been the first to describe.
"We now come to that portion of his life which has proved to be of
such intense interest to us. The fellow had evidently made inquiry and
found that only two lives intervened between him and a valuable estate.
When he went to Devonshire his plans were, I believe, exceedingly hazy,
but that he meant mischief from the first is evident from the way in which
he took his wife with him in the character of his sister. The idea of using
her as a decoy was clearly already in his mind, though he may not have
been certain how the details of his plot were to be arranged. He meant in
the end to have the estate, and he was ready to use any tool or run any risk
for that end. His first act was to establish himself as near to his ancestral
home as he could, and his second was to cultivate a friendship with Sir
Charles Baskerville and with the neighbours.
"The baronet himself told him about the family hound, and so prepared
the way for his own death. Stapleton, as I will continue to call him, knew
that the old man's heart was weak and that a shock would kill him. So
much he had learned from Dr. Mortimer. He had heard also that Sir
Charles was superstitious and had taken this grim legend very seriously.
His ingenious mind instantly suggested a way by which the baronet could
be done to death, and yet it would be hardly possible to bring home the
guilt to the real murderer.
"Having conceived the idea he proceeded to carry it out with
considerable finesse. An ordinary schemer would have been content to
work with a savage hound. The use of artificial means to make the
creature diabolical was a flash of genius upon his part. The dog he bought
in London from Ross and Mangles, the dealers in Fulham Road. It was
the strongest and most savage in their possession. He brought it down by
the North Devon line and walked a great distance over the moor so as to
get it home without exciting any remarks. He had already on his insect
hunts learned to penetrate the Grimpen Mire, and so had found a safe
hiding-place for the creature. Here he kennelled it and waited his chance.
"But it was some time coming. The old gentleman could not be
decoyed outside of his grounds at night. Several times Stapleton lurked
about with his hound, but without avail. It was during these fruitless
quests that he, or rather his ally, was seen by peasants, and that the legend
of the demon dog received a new confirmation. He had hoped that his
wife might lure Sir Charles to his ruin, but here she proved unexpectedly
independent. She would not endeavour to entangle the old gentleman in a
sentimental attachment which might deliver him over to his enemy.
Threats and even, I am sorry to say, blows refused to move her. She
would have nothing to do with it, and for a time Stapleton was at a
deadlock.
"He found a way out of his difficulties through the chance that Sir
Charles, who had conceived a friendship for him, made him the minister
of his charity in the case of this unfortunate woman, Mrs. Laura Lyons.
By representing himself [763] as a single man he acquired complete
influence over her, and he gave her to understand that in the event of her
obtaining a divorce from her husband he would marry her. His plans were
suddenly brought to a head by his knowledge that Sir Charles was about
to leave the Hall on the advice of Dr. Mortimer, with whose opinion he
himself pretended to coincide. He must act at once, or his victim might
get beyond his power. He therefore put pressure upon Mrs. Lyons to write
this letter, imploring the old man to give her an interview on the evening
before his departure for London. He then, by a specious argument,
prevented her from going, and so had the chance for which he had waited.
"Driving back in the evening from Coombe Tracey he was in time to
get his hound, to treat it with his infernal paint, and to bring the beast
round to the gate at which he had reason to expect that he would find the
old gentleman waiting. The dog, incited by its master, sprang over the
wicket-gate and pursued the unfortunate baronet, who fled screaming
down the yew alley. In that gloomy tunnel it must indeed have been a
dreadful sight to see that huge black creature, with its flaming jaws and
blazing eyes, bounding after its victim. He fell dead at the end of the alley
from heart disease and terror. The hound had kept upon the grassy border
while the baronet had run down the path, so that no track but the man's
was visible. On seeing him lying still the creature had probably
approached to sniff at him, but finding him dead had turned away again. It
was then that it left the print which was actually observed by Dr.
Mortimer. The hound was called off and hurried away to its lair in the
Grimpen Mire, and a mystery was left which puzzled the authorities,
alarmed the countryside, and finally brought the case within the scope of
our observation.
"So much for the death of Sir Charles Baskerville. You perceive the
devilish cunning of it, for really it would be almost impossible to make a
case against the real murderer. His only accomplice was one who could
never give him away, and the grotesque, inconceivable nature of the
device only served to make it more effective. Both of the women
concerned in the case, Mrs. Stapleton and Mrs. Laura Lyons, were left
with a strong suspicion against Stapleton. Mrs. Stapleton knew that he
had designs upon the old man, and also of the existence of the hound.
Mrs. Lyons knew neither of these things, but had been impressed by the
death occurring at the time of an uncancelled appointment which was
only known to him. However, both of them were under his influence, and
he had nothing to fear from them. The first half of his task was
successfully accomplished, but the more difficult still remained.
"It is possible that Stapleton did not know of the existence of an heir in
Canada. In any case he would very soon learn it from his friend Dr.
Mortimer, and he was told by the latter all details about the arrival of
Henry Baskerville. Stapleton's first idea was that this young stranger from
Canada might possibly be done to death in London without coming down
to Devonshire at all. He distrusted his wife ever since she had refused to
help him in laying a trap for the old man, and he dared not leave her long
out of his sight for fear he should lose his influence over her. It was for
this reason that he took her to London with him. They lodged, I find, at
the Mexborough Private Hotel, in Craven Street, which was actually one
of those called upon by my agent in search of evidence. Here he kept his
wife imprisoned in her room while he, disguised in a beard, followed Dr.
Mortimer to Baker Street and afterwards to the station and to the
Northumberland Hotel. His wife had some inkling of his plans; but she
had such a fear of her husband–a fear founded upon brutal ill-treatment
–that she dare not write to warn the man [764] whom she knew to be in
danger. If the letter should fall into Stapleton's hands her own life would
not be safe. Eventually, as we know, she adopted the expedient of cutting
out the words which would form the message, and addressing the letter in
a disguised hand. It reached the baronet, and gave him the first warning of
his danger.
"It was very essential for Stapleton to get some article of Sir Henry's
attire so that, in case he was driven to use the dog, he might always have
the means of setting him upon his track. With characteristic promptness
and audacity he set about this at once, and we cannot doubt that the boots
or chamber-maid of the hotel was well bribed to help him in his design.
By chance, however, the first boot which was procured for him was a new
one and, therefore, useless for his purpose. He then had it returned and
obtained another–a most instructive incident, since it proved conclusively
to my mind that we were dealing with a real hound, as no other
supposition could explain this anxiety to obtain an old boot and this
indifference to a new one. The more outré and grotesque an incident is
the more carefully it deserves to be examined, and the very point which
appears to complicate a case is, when duly considered and scientifically
handled, the one which is most likely to elucidate it.
"Then we had the visit from our friends next morning, shadowed
always by Stapleton in the cab. From his knowledge of our rooms and of
my appearance, as well as from his general conduct, I am inclined to think
that Stapleton's career of crime has been by no means limited to this
single Baskerville affair. It is suggestive that during the last three years
there have been four considerable burglaries in the west country, for none
of which was any criminal ever arrested. The last of these, at Folkestone
Court, in May, was remarkable for the cold-blooded pistolling of the
page, who surprised the masked and solitary burglar. I cannot doubt that
Stapleton recruited his waning resources in this fashion, and that for years
he has been a desperate and dangerous man.
"We had an example of his readiness of resource that morning when he
got away from us so successfully, and also of his audacity in sending back
my own name to me through the cabman. From that moment he
understood that I had taken over the case in London, and that therefore
there was no chance for him there. He returned to Dartmoor and awaited
the arrival of the baronet."

"One moment!" said I. "You have, no doubt, described the sequence of
events correctly, but there is one point which you have left unexplained.
What became of the hound when its master was in London?"
"I have given some attention to this matter and it is undoubtedly of
importance. There can be no question that Stapleton had a confidant,
though it is unlikely that he ever placed himself in his power by sharing
all his plans with him. There was an old manservant at Merripit House,
whose name was Anthony. His connection with the Stapletons can be
traced for several years, as far back as the school-mastering days, so that
he must have been aware that his master and mistress were really husband
and wife. This man has disappeared and has escaped from the country. It
is suggestive that Anthony is not a common name in England, while
Antonio is so in all Spanish or Spanish-American countries. The man, like
Mrs. Stapleton herself, spoke good English, but with a curious lisping
accent. I have myself seen this old man cross the Grimpen Mire by the
path which Stapleton had marked out. It is very probable, therefore, that
in the absence of his master it was he who cared for the hound, though he
may never have known the purpose for which the beast was used.
[765] "The Stapletons then went down to Devonshire, whither they were
soon followed by Sir Henry and you. One word now as to how I stood
myself at that time. It may possibly recur to your memory that when I
examined the paper upon which the printed words were fastened I made a
close inspection for the water-mark. In doing so I held it within a few
inches of my eyes, and was conscious of a faint smell of the scent known
as white jessamine. There are seventy-five perfumes, which it is very
necessary that a criminal expert should be able to distinguish from each
other, and cases have more than once within my own experience
depended upon their prompt recognition. The scent suggested the
presence of a lady, and already my thoughts began to turn towards the
Stapletons. Thus I had made certain of the hound, and had guessed at the
criminal before ever we went to the west country.
"It was my game to watch Stapleton. It was evident, however, that I
could not do this if I were with you, since he would be keenly on his
guard. I deceived everybody, therefore, yourself included, and I came
down secretly when I was supposed to be in London. My hardships were
not so great as you imagined, though such trifling details must never
interfere with the investigation of a case. I stayed for the most part at
Coombe Tracey, and only used the hut upon the moor when it was
necessary to be near the scene of action. Cartwright had come down with
me, and in his disguise as a country boy he was of great assistance to me.
I was dependent upon him for food and clean linen. When I was watching
Stapleton, Cartwright was frequently watching you, so that I was able to
keep my hand upon all the strings.
"I have already told you that your reports reached me rapidly, being
forwarded instantly from Baker Street to Coombe Tracey. They were of
great service to me, and especially that one incidentally truthful piece of
biography of Stapleton's. I was able to establish the identity of the man
and the woman and knew at last exactly how I stood. The case had been
considerably complicated through the incident of the escaped convict and
the relations between him and the Barrymores. This also you cleared up in
a very effective way, though I had already come to the same conclusions
from my own observations.
"By the time that you discovered me upon the moor I had a complete
knowledge of the whole business, but I had not a case which could go to a
jury. Even Stapleton's attempt upon Sir Henry that night which ended in
the death of the unfortunate convict did not help us much in proving
murder against our man. There seemed to be no alternative but to catch
him red-handed, and to do so we had to use Sir Henry, alone and
apparently unprotected, as a bait. We did so, and at the cost of a severe
shock to our client we succeeded in completing our case and driving
Stapleton to his destruction. That Sir Henry should have been exposed to
this is, I must confess, a reproach to my management of the case, but we
had no means of foreseeing the terrible and paralyzing spectacle which
the beast presented, nor could we predict the fog which enabled him to
burst upon us at such short notice. We succeeded in our object at a cost
which both the specialist and Dr. Mortimer assure me will be a temporary
one. A long journey may enable our friend to recover not only from his
shattered nerves but also from his wounded feelings. His love for the lady
was deep and sincere, and to him the saddest part of all this black
business was that he should have been deceived by her.
"It only remains to indicate the part which she had played throughout.
There can be no doubt that Stapleton exercised an influence over her
which may have been love or may have been fear, or very possibly both,
since they are by no means [766] incompatible emotions. It was, at least,
absolutely effective. At his command she consented to pass as his sister,
though he found the limits of his power over her when he endeavoured to
make her the direct accessory to murder. She was ready to warn Sir Henry
so far as she could without implicating her husband, and again and again
she tried to do so. Stapleton himself seems to have been capable of
jealousy, and when he saw the baronet paying court to the lady, even
though it was part of his own plan, still he could not help interrupting
with a passionate outburst which revealed the fiery soul which his self-
contained manner so cleverly concealed. By encouraging the intimacy he
made it certain that Sir Henry would frequently come to Merripit House
and that he would sooner or later get the opportunity which he desired.
On the day of the crisis, however, his wife turned suddenly against him.
She had learned something of the death of the convict, and she knew that
the hound was being kept in the out-house on the evening that Sir Henry
was coming to dinner. She taxed her husband with his intended crime,
and a furious scene followed in which he showed her for the first time
that she had a rival in his love. Her fidelity turned in an instant to bitter
hatred, and he saw that she would betray him. He tied her up, therefore,
that she might have no chance of warning Sir Henry, and he hoped, no
doubt, that when the whole countryside put down the baronet's death to
the curse of his family, as they certainly would do, he could win his wife
back to accept an accomplished fact and to keep silent upon what she
knew. In this I fancy that in any case he made a miscalculation, and that,
if we had not been there, his doom would none the less have been sealed.
A woman of Spanish blood does not condone such an injury so lightly.
And now, my dear Watson, without referring to my notes, I cannot give
you a more detailed account of this curious case. I do not know that
anything essential has been left unexplained."
"He could not hope to frighten Sir Henry to death as he had done the
old uncle with his bogie hound."
"The beast was savage and half-starved. If its appearance did not
frighten its victim to death, at least it would paralyze the resistance which
might be offered."

Comments:

I still find it amazing that this, the most famous and best-loved of Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, might never have been written. Had he succeeded in killing off his detective and not evoked a furious backlash from his public, had Holmes been allowed to lay forever at the bottom of the Reichenbach Falls, Doyle would have left it at that and moved on to other things. Not only would we not have had this story, but it, and other classics such as "The Six Napoleons", "The Abbey Grange", "The Dancing Men", "The Dying Detective" and "The Devil's Foot" would have been left crushed and broken and unborn next to the mangled corpse of the world's greatest and only consulting detective. It could in no way be said that Doyle's return to writing  Holmes stories - even if technically it was a forced one - was a mistake. Some of his best work, including this and his final novel, The Valley of Fear, only came about because of his public's voracious appetite for the detective's adventures and their refusal to let him stay dead. Quite remarkable, and I think also unique in the annals of literary fiction.

As for the story itself, well what can I say that has not already been written about this classic? It has everything: intrigue, murder, mystery, a scary bleak setting, avarice, a legacy, a curse, stalking, romance (of a sort) and it's also one of the few in which Watson gets the most page time, as it were. The mystery is lovingly crafted by Doyle, tantalising little scraps of information - Holmes' favourite "trifles" - dropped like breadcrumbs along the trail, looking as if they're of no real interest until finally the master weaver pulls - to use his character's own phrase - the threads together and we see the full design. It is, quite simply, a masterclass in detective fiction, and if no other story gave him the right to be one of, if not the world's greatest writer of mysteries, this one does. It's all but perfect.

Usually I can find, again to use Holmes' word, a thread to pull at, something that doesn't quite fit or seems wrong, but not this time. Everything slots together beautifully, and there really are no loose ends left to be tied up. Even the disappearance of Stapleton into the Great Grimpen Mire is ironic, as the place which has taken so many lives of the unwary, and which he has foolishly treated as his own domain, turns against him at the last and swallows him up, is appropriate. It's more realistic and more poetic than the man being arrested and tried, or even shot while trying to escape or something. Like every other piece of the story, it clicks into place perfectly, leaving not a rough edge to be seen.

Again, we can say the women are badly treated, and all three presented as, shall we say, negative characters: Mrs. Barrymore willingly flouts the law by helping her brother, knowing the police are looking for him and, further, knowing him to be a desperate man and a murderer, while Mrs. Stapleton, though she baulks at tricking Sir Charles and placing his life in danger, and lives mostly in fear of her husband, nevertheless helps him in his schemes, though there is some small redemption in her attempt to warn Sir Henry. As for Laura Lyons, she is the classic fallen woman. Abandoned by her feckless husband but still tied to him through Victorian law, she falls prey to Stapleton and is entirely taken in by him, also aiding him in his schemes. While none of these women could conceivably be described as being evil, they are none of them examples of "proper" English women, and so our old friend misogyny raises its nasty head again.

The Hound of the Baskervilles was of course a huge success, a triumphant return for Holmes (even if it is set before his so-called death at the Reichenbach Falls) and led to two more collections of stories featuring the famous detective, until Doyle was finally able to, if not kill him off, retire him gracefully, allowing him to aid in the war effort and serve his country one more time. If nothing else, the novel proves that the public were right, that Doyle had more Holmes in him, so to speak, and that the great detective's story was far from finished.

Like another famous nineteenth century story set on the moors, you can almost feel the cold, the bleak atmosphere surrounding the entire area, the desolate barren plains of grass and smell the stink as the marsh gas pops over by the Great Grimpen Mire. But whereas Emily Bronte was more concerned with romance in her classic, here there's little of that. In fact, what there is seems to me more a case of what Eddie Hitler once described in the series Bottom as "something for the birds". It comes across to me as a perhaps cynical ploy to try to pull in the female readers, and perhaps even trying to exploit the new female readership garnered by writers like Bronte and Austen. It certainly seems to me that, again, the story would have lost little if anything had Sir Henry not fallen in love, and in the end, what good does it do him?

The writing is first class, without question, and the descriptions given by Doyle through Watson of the moors are cleverly enhanced by the usage of the old neolithic huts, which almost makes the reader feel they've been transported back in time, to a much more wild era, when man was barely making his mark and everyone was an enemy. To put it in more modern parlance, it feels like you're on the moon, nor the moors of Devonshire. The story has a real cloud hanging over it from beginning to end: opening with an unexplained death/murder, going through another attempt at engineering murder and ending with a man almost driven insane and losing his lover, even if he retains his inheritance and, more importantly, his life. It's not, really, a book with any sort of happy ending. It ends not so much in triumph as in bleak success, and over everything frowns the dark, unforgiving uncharted expanse of the wild moors.

There's an echo of both the old and the new Doyle here, as Holmes remarks about the as-yet-masked (or even suspected) Stapleton, that he is "a foe more worthy of our steel than any we have faced," very similar to how he describes Moriarty in what was intended to be his last ever case. I can't help thinking Doyle is trying to re-evoke the memory of the professor and perhaps remind people how they arrived here - even though, at the time the novel is set, he has yet to meet, or perhaps even be aware of the presence of, the crime lord of London.

It's also curious to me, and a little endearing, that Holmes uses the pronoun "we" and "our" rather than "my" and "I". Up to now, if I recall correctly, he has been prone to regard all the cases as his, the reasoning and deduction being his of course, and Watson as something of a chronicler and occasional assistant - though he has more than once praised him as his ally and partner. Nevertheless, while some of his cases may be seen by him to be shared with his friend, generally, up to now, they've been considered as his, and this then is the first where he really acknowledges that Watson is not just accompanying and helping him, but taking an active part in the case. This is perhaps also shown when he entrusts both the safety of Sir Henry and the gathering of information - mostly - to Watson, whereas before he would have to have been making enquiries himself, and would likely have trusted nobody else to ensure the baronet's safety.

Is it fair to say The Hound of the Baskervilles is the pinnacle of Doyle's Holmes stories? I think it is. It's certainly his best, and his best-loved and best-known, though to call what follows filler or extraneous would be a grievous mistake, as some of his best work occurs after this, including the next - and last - powerful novel, The Valley of Fear. Does Doyle write like a man who has been forced to resurrect his most famous character, and produce these stories under duress? Not at all: in fact, whatever the truth of it may be, I personally feel that he may have ended up being grateful to his pushy public for insisting he bring Holmes back from the dead, as it inspired him to write so many more great stories. For probably the only time in literary history, I feel an author owes a great debt of gratitude to his readers for going against his will and ensuring that his most enduring character sleuth on for many years.

Perhaps, just perhaps, showing a slight weariness on Doyle's part at having to write a whole novel about the character he wanted dead, the opening scene, in which Holmes tasks Watson with gleaning all he can from Dr. Mortimer's walking-stick, which he has left behind, is an almost carbon copy of the pipe left behind by Grant Munro in "The Yellow Face", and has echoes too in the hat Holmes is studying in "The Blue Carbuncle." In both "The Yellow Face" and this novel, the client has arrived while Holmes and Watson have been out, and has impatiently left, vowing to return.

Character Study

For a novel, this has not a huge cast of characters, but the ones who are there are mostly supporting ones without much to say about them. In this I include the Barrymores, John and Eliza, who function mostly as a device to wrong-foot the reader, their concern being Selden the criminal, although the husband does put Watson on to the answer to the riddle of who "L.L." is. Mrs. Stapleton, despite being for a time a love interest for Sir Henry, and initially the one who tries to warn him against coming to the moors, is equally dispensable. Her part in the story has little real effect on it, and while we do get some of her history - she was a teacher with her husband at a school which closed, and though represented as his sister is in fact his wife - there's not much to tell.

Frankland is absolutely useless in the story, other than as a way to explain Laura Lyons' predicament, but she could have been the daughter of any man who cut her off angrily for marrying without his permission. Frankland's cantankerous nature and his desire to sue everyone in sight for no reason honestly annoys me; he adds nothing to the story and it would have survived quite well without him. Dr. Mortimer, despite being the one to bring the case to Holmes, does little either, and his obsession with skulls is frankly as annoying and pointless as is Frankland's preoccupation with the courts. It has no bearing at all upon the story, and does make me wonder if Doyle was intentionally padding it out for some reason. A letter from Mortimer, asking Holmes to investigate, would have done just as well and as I say, the story would be no worse without his presence.

Which really leaves us with only two, the main protagonist and antagonist, or to put it more basically, the killer and his target, both of whom I'll discuss now.

Sir Henry Baskerville: A man who has grown up most of his adult life in the far reaches of Canada, he's not quite the sort you'd expect for a country squire, or baronet. He scoffs at the legend, is quick to anger when things don't go his way, and falls for Beryl Stapleton perhaps too easily. She is, after all, the only young woman in the vicinity, so perhaps their coming together is a little contrived. Yet for all that, he's pretty quick to succumb to a fever when the Hound attacks him. I mean, yes it looked scary and for a moment he may have wondered if the legend was based in truth, but surely he's faced bigger and nastier animals in Canada? He kind of turns into something of a wuss by the end, travelling the world with the doctor to forget his troubles and recover. I have a problem with that: for one thing, the whole idea of his coming to Baskerville Hall was to help the area, now he's going off around the globe (surely a journey of a year if not more?) and leaving it in whose care? That of Barrymore? Perhaps there are some loose ends after all.

Jack Stapleton AKA Rodger Baskerville: A man of devious ways and a long criminal past, he comes from dark stock, the son of one of the disgraced Baskerville heirs, also called Rodger, who fled England and made his way to South America. Jack (as we will call him) married and came back to England, changed his name to Vandeleur, worked as a teacher until an epidemic put paid to that, changed his name again and came to the moors, where he sets about trying to claim the inheritance that isn't his by right. If he was ever in love with his wife, he soon fell out of love with her, beating and dominating her to make her party to his schemes. Despite all this, he is a celebrated naturalist, and as a result is very familiar with the Grimpen Mire, perhaps the only man who could walk there in safety.

Evidently a man who is not averse to using women, he moves on to Laura Lyons, seeing in her someone who can help further his plans to get rid of Sir Charles Baskerville, and in order to trick her into thinking he is single and so can marry her when her divorce is granted, he pretends his wife is his sister. It's quite a scheme he concocts with the dog and the paint, but as a naturalist perhaps not that fantastic. Being a Baskerville, even one in hiding, he of course knows about the legend of the curse, and uses it to his advantage. When his plans fall apart he  returns to the place which has been his shelter so many times, but this time his luck runs out as the fog makes it impossible for him to see where he is going, and presumably he falls into the marsh.

Better than you

There's no real involvement of the police at all. Holmes does call Lestrade  down, but to be honest he does little else than watch and then pretty much cowers on the ground while Holmes and Watson deal with the Hound. He's involved in the rescue of Mrs. Stapleton but after that he fades from the story, so really he might as well not have been there.

The story in 100 words or less.
(The Tealdeer version)

Using the ancient family legend of a huge hound that pursues members of the Baskerville family of Dartmoor, one of the heirs to the estate - unknown to be so at the time - engineers the death of the current baronet and attempts to kill his successor. He is foiled by Holmes and Watson, who discover his deadly trick and shoot his dog dead. He vanishes into the Dartmoor swamp, never to be seen again.

Holmes' Hit List

Total: 0
Running total: 10

The Holmes Body Count

Direct: 1 (Stapleton)
Indirect: 0
Incidental: 1 (Selden)
Historical: 1 (Sir Charles Baskerville)
Total: 3
Running total: 113

Famous Firsts

The first story written by Doyle since he tried to kill off Holmes; the first Holmes story to focus so much on Dr. Watson

Satisfied Customer(s)? Yes, if you consider your life being saved and your ancient family curse being laid to rest forever.

Self-referentials

Legal outcome (if any): Not entirely sure; is Mrs. Stapleton arrested?
:5stars: