In the course of our brief telephone conversation it was revealed that an anonymous letter (addressed to me) had been delivered to the hospital and left in the doctor’s care with very specific instructions that it be given to only me.
***
Sitting down at my desk... like the parcel I had previously received from Dr. Briggs I looked at the envelope bearing only the first initial of my Christian name and that of my married last name with that I wondered what would be revealed when I opened it.
Searching until I found John’s letter opener... cautiously I slit the cryptic envelope open to find it contained only two pieces of paper.
The first was a formal printed communique stating that an official delegation (headed by Willem Bastiaan van Steenwyk) from the government of South African would be coming to London to call on the German embassy to establish trade agreements with German occupied Norway.
The second was hand written (somehow familiar to me) and far more informal in nature: it would seem that Mr. van Steenwyk is in far more trouble than he realizes. Events he thought to have under control and kept out the light of day have gotten beyond his reach.
Three deaths and two disappearances have attracted unwelcomed and unwanted attention to certain individuals within the government of South African and the German government. This with your efforts in seeking answers concerning a personal death have made Mr.van Steenwyk an unwelcome individual everywhere.
You are close to solving your investigation. What remains will be available to you while the South African delegation is in London.
I have given you a telephone number where Mr. van Steenwyk may be reached. Arranging a meeting with him will be easy... as to whether he will co-operate with you or not will remain to be seen when you meet.
***
“Prime minister there is a telephone call for you.”
***
...“Say what you have to say Mrs. Watson... and express what you feel you must express concerning your allegations in reference to my perceived actions in this matter.
“I can give you (at most) between five and ten minutes of my time tomorrow afternoon before having to leave your company to attend an important meeting. We shall arrange to meet in the drawing room (which I believe will not be in use at that time) of the Grand Royale hotel at 1:50 p.m.”
At 1:45 p.m. (the next day) I entered the hotel and quietly made my way to the appointed rendezvous. Crossing the foyer and entering the drawing room through the already opened doors instead of witnessing it occupied with an appreciative audience and a magician ready to amaze them with famous illusions there was only one person present... even with his back turned towards me I knew who it was.
When one of the floor boards creaked slightly under my step announcing my arrival he turned and addressed me.
“Please... come in and take a seat Mrs. Watson.” Willem Bastiaan van Steenwyk invited me with some superficial graciousness while directing my attention towards one of the two dining room chairs located in the drawing room that were facing each other.
“I would prefer to stand” I heard myself reply in a surprisingly strong voice that quickly spurned his offer. “As you wish” he responded quietly. While sitting down in front of me on the chair to my right he took out his pocket watch to note the time of my entrance and as an unmistakable reminder to me that I would have precious little time to undertake my course of action.
Suddenly realizing that I was about to complete what I had originally set out to do (some time ago) at a gala ball held in Johannesburg... and because of this accomplishment I found that I was starting to tremble with a combination of genuine fear and yet oddly that of excitement with what was about to unfold.
Taking a deep breath as I stood before him I confidently began with what I had learned from my investigation as to what I thought were the reasons for John’s unexpected and initially at the time unexplained death.
I described first (through the use of a combination of a toxic poison and ceramic pellet) the method of his death. Unfortunately this information had come with a price being the death of Dr. Briggs.
I went on to state that although I still did not know who had delivered the fatal blow... I implied that the man now sitting before me held some responsibility (if not all) for this action.
I stopped for a moment to gather my strength... then reflecting on my last time with my husband in hospital I continued. Although I did not know the exact reason why this man I was addressing had acted in the manner he had I felt that I was closing in as to why.
From the information I had learned from Mycroft Holmes, from my two overseas journeys, through reading John’s journal, my association with Patricia Mclean and Elizabeth Humphrey I believe the motives for John’s death were based solely on revenge against Sherlock for the loss of the spy Mata Hari.
Unfortunately due to Sherlock’s “disappearance” after Mr. Houdini’s show Willem Bastiaan van Steenwyk (and others) would refocus their attention and retaliation for wrongs or injuries received; then take vengeance on my husband for what they felt was a great loss.
Further this act would stand as a strong warning to Sherlock (for what he had done) and others not to look into or reveal the circumstances of or reasons for my husband’s death.
Finally bringing my evidence against the former South African prime minister to a close I remained standing and silently waiting.
At that moment I felt as if a great weight should have been lifted from me but I was not certain it had because of the uncertainty as to whether he would either (unlikely) acknowledge or(possibly) refute my facts as they had been presented.
After (to my considerable surprise) paying close attention to (what I thought was) my well laid out evidence Willem Bastiaan van Steenwyk leaned forward slightly in his chair then gave me a familiar look any parent would give towards their failing child.
As if to reinforce this message he shook his head slightly from side to side indicating his disbelief. In a clear, yet obviously condescending tone of voice that left no doubt as to his underlying opinion of my evidence he began.
“Mrs. Watson... in all of this you have proven to be a very meddlesome and a tiring woman. You did not at any time have any right to seek out your answers in either Johannesburg or Dresden.”
“I should inform you how ever what little if any information you gained in your ‘investigation’ was only in aid of discovering what you knew about the circumstances of your husband’s death”.
Here he paused to again to display his disappointment. “From my point of view with what has just related you have nothing of substance to go forward with other than what I see as at best as half-truths, and totally unsubstantiated facts.”
He paused for a moment to let this opening and clearly defining statement take firm root in my mind then he continued...
“The events and details you have tried (might I say) unsuccessfully to connect to me today are nothing more than the labours of a fevered female mind.
Furthermore with what you have presented as so called incrementing evidence... is of such poor quality that it has only been arrived at by very unskilled and amateur detective methods. Sadly your fruitless pursuit has been guided by the disordered emotions of a grieving widow there for rendering it useless.”
He paused again... then sat up and now took on the tone of voice and assured manner of a seasoned and experienced barrister confidently summing up his successful case before the jury in a court room.
“From what has been related to me... it has obviously not come from the sound mind of a professional, logical and trained detective such as Mr. Sherlock Holmes... who(it should be noted) if he were present would see that there is no basis or substance to any of your claims.”
Finishing... as if now addressing and then requesting of the presiding judge to bring a forgone conviction of guil
ty against the accused our appointment came to an end.
“I would suggest Mrs. Watson that from now on you focus your attention solely to matters more suited to your gender and cease this pointless endeavour... and as well your very amateur attempts at being a detective.”
“Too many people have come to an unfortunate end from either investigating or being involved in what should be seen as nothing more than an unexplained incident happening on a London street.”
Then without any pretence of civility Willem Bastiaan van Steenwyk silently rose from the chair he had been seated on... coldly turned his back to me and left the room.
***
Mr. van Steenwyk has finally become too great a liability to us... something must be done about this right away.
Chapter 39
Oxford Street (like any other busy street in the metropolitan city of London) at 3 p.m. on a week day is a noisy fast paced thoroughfare teeming with a blend of bustling pedestrians passing each other on either adjacent sidewalk and motor vehicles of all sizes, descriptions and functions travelling on the road between. Each vehicle motoring from their place departure to its place of arrival.
Additionally there is public transportation in the form of double-decker buses operated by the London General Omnibus Company for those who did not have personal use of a motor vehicle.
Further to the arterial flow on Oxford Street serving the commercial needs of the businesses located on the street there is a mix of small delivery vans and large heavy goods delivery lorries.
Since the transition from horse drawn vehicles in the 19th century to motor vehicles in the 20th century there has been a slow but steady rise in the number of vehicle and pedestrian accidents happening on city streets.
When the cause for the accident was investigated it was determined there was either a lack of attention on the part of the pedestrian or of the person operating the motor vehicle.
There have been a small number of fatal pedestrian road accidents where no clear cause could be determined or established.
However when the attending police constable was asked unofficially as to how this might have taken place it was often commented “you know... as improbable as this might seem it looked almost as if the person had been deliberately pushed from the sidewalk and into the oncoming vehicle traffic.”
***
‘Justice’(noun) as it has been defined in any authoritative dictionary is: the unbiased administering of deserved punishment or reward.
Arriving at legal justice comes about by the due process of law where a claimant and a defendant each present their respective evidence before a magistrate or a judge of either guilt or subsequently innocence in the matter of committing a criminal act.
It is the final responsibility of the presiding magistrate or judge to evaluate the validity of the evidence given then determine as to where and how ‘justice’ will be served.
***
The right or wrong of the deeds committed by Willem Bastiaan van Steenwyk would never be formally presented in any court of law.
An impartial legal setting where he would have had the opportunity to face his accusers (me among many) without prejudice to plead his innocence or disavow any knowledge of claims that had been brought against him. Justice for him would be unexpected, swift and brutal.
***
From the time he had been caught off guard and brusquely pushed from the sidewalk by a seemingly anonymous pedestrian and onto the busy road he had little time to come to terms with the unsettling event that had just taken place.
As he was assessing any injuries to himself (from the fall) and getting to his feet while attracting as little attention as possible the former prime minister realized that he was going to be late for a meeting to attend and there for needed to return to the sidewalk.
At that same moment a final (and unspoken) sentence of justice was being handed down in the form of a speeding motor vehicle that would prevent him from ever reaching his intended destination.
The last thing Willem Bastiaan van Steenwyk ever heard or saw in his life was the sound of a petrol engine propelling the large rubber tyres of a fully loaded heavy goods lorry that was quickly and fatally bearing down on him.
Epilogue
I decided that with the investigation of my husband’s death now somewhat satisfactorily concluded and behind me... John could now finally rest in peace.
With these up until now troubling issues ended I felt it was time to bring some colour back into my life and also back to the house I lived in.
At that moment ‘Brixton market’ and the memory of an event that had taken place in 1920 involving a young female pick pocket came to mind.
But this time my reason for returning there would not be to prevent any criminal offence from taking place. Instead it was merely to purchase among other house hold items a large bouquet of flowers (which the market had been selling since 1870) to place in one of my favourite crystal vases when I returned home.
***
I had been leisurely walking about the busy morning market and taking in all its urban character for a time. First deciding what fresh vegetables I would need for meals the following week then after some other domestic purchases finally making my way to where the cut flower vendor stalls were located.
After being captivated by the vast floral rainbow of colours and their many wonderful fragrances that accompanied them that were presented before me I chose to take home a bouquet of pink and red roses.
Bending down for a moment first to take in their gentle perfume before purchasing what would be a pleasing addition to my home I heard from behind me what I thought to be a very familiar voice knowledgeably commenting on my forthcoming purchase.
“Roses are certainly an excellent choice to brighten any room. I believe the ones you are about to purchase are from the family Rosaceae... Subfamily Rosoideae... and genus Rosa if I am correct.”
I stood up then turned in the direction of where the voice had originated from then hoped against hope that the expert observation I had just heard was that of a long lost friend.
When I realized it was... I smiled a shy smile and then to my considerable relief I heard myself say only a one word greeting “Sherlock!” he in return gave me one of his rare and not often shared with others warm smiles and returned with “Mary”.
Notes
To begin I would like to thank everyone who made this story possible... first to Carol Ann a friend and fellow writer who with her editing skills made a good story great. Then to the staff at the St. Paul branch of the Brantford Public Library... in Brantford Ontario Canada for providing a second home in which to write and conduct much needed research.
***
In Mary Watson and The Departed Doctor... Mary continues her narrative from Sherlock Holmes and The Escape Artist. In The Departed Doctor Mary Watson again takes up the task of detective and chronicler... She sets out to find the actual cause and reasons for her husband’s - Dr. John Watson’s untimely and unfortunate death.
***
Various characters and locations mentioned thorough out the story are drawn from other Sherlock Holmes case notes taken down by Doctor John H. Watson and later my his widow Mrs. Mary N. Watson
From Sherlock Holmes and The Mystery Writer
While trying to make some sense of... and at the same time organize my collection of all things and events Holmes related I came across two unknown but remarkable documents dated from 1920.
Due to their size each had originally been put to use as a common book mark for Agatha Christies “The Mouse Trap and Other Stories” before they and the mentioned book had come into my possession.
Both documents unique significance had obviously been unknown or had been over looked by the previous reader of the book when employing them for this every day purpose.
***
The first... a personal note that Dr. Watson had written and given to his wife Mary just before his passing at St. Bartholomew’s hospital asking her to take up the task (should she ever choose to) of chronicling future Sherlock Home’s cases if the need should arise and if he (Holmes) ever decided to abandon his harsh and self-imposed exile.
The second... a copy of the obituary notice published in The Times which had also been circulated to all the other prominent London, United Kingdom and British Commonwealth daily newspapers containing the details of Sherlock Holmes close friend’s untimely and most unfortunate departure from this life.
When writing a fictional story writers are not bound by or to established facts or events as they unfold and can alter, change or rewrite them to suit the story.
In Mary Watson and The Departed Doctor the devastating events that happened in Germany during the Second World War were moved back to 1923 (after the First World War) to add background and setting to Mary’s arrival in Dresden Germany.
No good story is complete without some controversy. I achieved this by offering an alternate solution to the terms of the Versailles treaty.
I suggested as a way to prevent the eventual rise of Adolf Hitler and the National Socialist Party that Germany be allowed to keep at least some of the territory it had conquered and occupied.
As proposed (in the story) by the American President Wilson and British Prime minister Lloyd George instead of stripping Germany bare this would have allowed the nation to eventually repay its imposed debts and rebuild its self.
It would have emerged as a much different (and non-belligerent) country from the one that would eventually arise out the ashes of the Great War.
One final note... the mystery writer (Winfred Jefferies) that Mary Watson mentions throughout her narrative comes from the story “Sherlock Holmes and The Mystery Writer.
Mary Watson And The Departed Doctor Page 9