by Marvin Kaye
“I think you have made it all remarkable clear,” said the doctor. “No doubt the day on which he was perturbed was the day when he had seen of their release in the newspapers.”
“Quite so. His talk about a burglary was the merest blind.”
“But why could he not tell you this?”
“Well, my dear sir, knowing the vindictive character of his old associates, he was trying to hide his own identity from everybody as long as he could. His secret was a shameful one, and he could not bring himself to divulge it. However, wretch as he was, he was still living under the shield of British law, and I have no doubt, Inspector, that you will see that, though that shield may fail to guard, the sword of justice is still there to avenge.”
Such were the singular circumstances in connection with the Resident Patient and the Brook Street Doctor. From that night nothing has been seen of the three murderers by the police, and it is surmised at Scotland Yard that they were among the passengers of the ill-fated steamer Norah Creina, which was lost some years ago with all hands upon the Portuguese coast, some leagues to the north of Oporto. The proceedings against the page broke down for want of evidence, and the Brook Street Mystery, as it was called, has never until now been fully dealt with in any public print.
YOU ARE MY SHERLOCK, by Len Moffatt
(OR DOCTOR WATSON’S LAMENT)
The other night, Holmes,
While you were sleuthing
I dreamed of all our calls to arms.
When I awoke, Holmes,
I had misgivings
And I hung my head and sighed.
*
You are my Sherlock,
My only Sherlock.
Your cases earn me
An author’s pay.
You’ll never know, Holmes,
How much I need you—
Please don’t take my Sherlock away
*
You called me once, Holmes,
Your “Good Old Watson!”
Oh, how we shared mutual esteem!
But now you tell me
You are retiring—
You have shattered all my dreams!
*
You are my Sherlock,
My only Sherlock.
I can’t believe
You will not stay!
You’re leaving me, Holmes—
For bees in Sussex?
Please don’t take my Sherlock away!