Sherlock Holmes and the Mystery Writer

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Sherlock Holmes and the Mystery Writer Page 3

by Fred Thursfield


  Winifred as she was retuning her tea cup to its matching saucer felt her blood start to run cold. When she read the contents of the second page of the “Survivors” list again, there were unknown names and locations that had also been crossed out with red ink. What stopped the tea cup in mid transit was when at the very bottom of the second list she read two names she immediately recognized...her own and Gravesend.

  Chapter 6

  Very little was known about the lone occupant of the cottage locally referred to as the Beeches. As far as it was known he never entertained visitors, was never seen on the high street or ever in attendance at any of the social functions held in Doncaster throughout the year. His only witnessed brief presence was to come out of the front door of his residence to collect the morning and afternoon post and momentarily each time survey the state of the outside world before going back inside.

  It was assumed that all of life’s necessities were delivered to him by the towns various vendors on a regular basis which explained the lack of transportation of any kind ever seen at the cottage. The little gleaned knowledge anyone shared about him was that the dweller was an apiarist who tended to several large colonies of bees located in the back garden and was commercially selling the product of his insects industry to a local confectioner.

  None of the inhabitants of Doncaster had any comprehension or any idea that at one time he had been the most famous and successful consulting detective in all of London. Or that at one time potential client’s had turned to him first for help in solving a crime before engaging the services of the police. But as the residents had little or no knowledge of the hermit, he in turn had little or no knowledge that developing and disturbing events taking place in Gravesend would bring him back into a rhythm and setting of life he had left behind.

  Chapter 7

  It was Winifred’s sister who read to her from The Strand her first Sherlock Holmes case. “The Blue Carbuncle” and after that she had always been pestering her sister for more. “The Blue Carbuncle, The Red Headed League and The Five Orange Pips.”

  After Winifred had composed herself from the initial shock that the purloined manila envelope and its contents had revealed she began planning a course of action. Which would include help from me, she re reread the handwritten survivors list again to see if anyone else or any place she may have known hopefully without their or its name being crossed off.

  To her surprise she found that she wasn’t the only writer to have this dubious honour. There were other well known writers on the list including F. Scot Fitzgerald, D.H. Lawrence, Mary Augusta, Ward and Edith Wharton. Also listed were members of parliament such as John Robert Clynes, representing North-East Manchester and William Adamson, representing West Fife. Included were men of industry such as Joseph S. Cullinan, American oil industrialist and Lord James Hanson, English industrialist/House of Lords (Conservative).

  Railroad chairmen of the board of directors such as Sir Gilbert Claughton, of the London and North Western Railway and Mail ship chairmen of the board of directors such as Sir Robert Hall,

  of the Union Castle Steam Ship Line. Many of the lines vessels were requisitioned for service as troop ships or hospital ships in the First World War, and eight were sunk by mines or German U-boats. There was one name in particular on the list that was partially familiar; Mycroft Holmes. Winifred asked herself as she pondered the name “Could he be related to Mary’s friend Sherlock Holmes?”

  Seeing that his name was among the ones already crossed off Winifred quickly contacted me to relate what she had found and if she could pass the news about Mycroft along. Her letter was a h a mixture of real and imagined fears for her safety and asking what help I or possibly Sherlock could provide.

  She finished her letter with “Survivors, in this particular case I believe does not refer to the remaining passengers who have found themselves involved in some maritime catastrophe but rather survivors refers to those on the list who have not yet had their name struck through with red ink and can still be counted on for the moment, as being among the living.”

  I re-read Winifred’s letter carefully. Not wanting to upset the apiarist in Doncaster with potentially troubling news about his brother until I was certain as to whether Mycroft was still to be counted among the living, I decided to make the rounds of all the major hospitals in London.

  With my husbands reputation I did not arouse suspicion when requesting, as the widow of a medical doctor, if there had been a recent autopsy performed in the morgue concerning a Mycroft Holmes. Fortunately with each of my queries there was an assuring answer of “no there wasn’t”.

  My last place of inquiry was at the London Hospital located on the south side of Whitechapel Road, Whitechapel, in the London Borough of Tower Hamlets. There to my considerable relief I found in fact that Sherlock’s brother had in been admitted and was now successfully recovering on a convalescent ward from a bullet wound he had received to his left shoulder.

  Knowing him only by name and association I felt it was unnecessary to visit with him to see about his welfare and ask about the events that had lead up to his being admitted to hospital. This was a task better suited to his younger brother.

  With that worry put aside in my mind I began to compose two letters. The first to Winifred to tell her that Mycroft was alive and that I (and possibly Sherlock) would be coming to Gravesend soon to help her sort out the meaning and intent of the terrible explosion. I also assured her we would also be reviewing the Survivors list. What the possible meaning and connection there may be to all of the names it contained and why some had been perhaps prematurely been struck through with red ink.

  This first letter would be easy to compose and write being in the nature of one friend coming to the aid of another, the other letter to Sherlock would be much more difficult to compose. First I had to let him know that his brother was in hospital without being able to fully explain the circumstances.

  I would have to convince him to give up his solitary life to come to London to visit with Mycroft in hospital then join me in Gravesend to assist, as he might see it “a mere mystery writer”. All of this would certainly force Sherlock to reflect on his long forgotten talents and skills that now only lived on in print. I would be asking him to come back to reflect on his life, as well as facing the ghosts that had made him give up an illustrious career.

  Chapter 8

  Desperate times will force some to carry out certain acts that under better conditions they would never consider doing, much less act upon. However, others carry out certain acts because it is in their nature to do them whether there are desperate times or not.

  When I first heard of Mycroft (through John) I was told that the older brother (of Sherlock) audits books for some government departments, it is later revealed that Mycroft’s true role was more substantial. I was never sure of what the brother’s exact position was in the British government; it was only commented that “Occasionally he is to the British government the most indispensable man in the country.”

  He apparently serves as a sort of human computer. The conclusions of every department are passed to him, and he is the central exchange, the clearinghouse, which makes out the balance. All other men are specialists, but his specialism is omniscience.

  This specialist was a man of habit, much unlike his younger brother. The older Holmes legendary and predictable daily schedule never varied and had often been compared to that of any efficient and well run railway. Depending on the time of day and depending on where you were positioned along the tracks you would know the number of the engine as it and its passenger carriages passed by you.

  Also, to the minute when that particular railroad train would pull into its arrival station, the time it took to disembark and embark its passengers and when it would depart for its next destination...each segment of this measured period was never a minute early or a minute late.

  This wa
s what Thomas Malone Prescott “the badger” had been counting on. The certainty of the senior Holmes punctuality would make things easier when he had received anonymous instructions that he was to assist the senior Mr. Holmes in an early departure from this world. As with previous instructions of this nature, Thomas never knew the identity of the sender or even where the instructions had originated from.

  A young street urchin arriving at Margate Road in the late afternoon would with confidence knock on the front door of the Prescott’s family lodgings. When the door had been opened and the child made sure it was “the badger” who answered he would hold out the unaddressed envelope. The child would state (knowing he might receive some reward for his task) to the intended receiver “a message for you sir.”

  The instructions (written on a single piece of paper) were all of a similar nature, someone was to depart from this world...the where, when and how, all concisely laid out. It even included details as to what type of weapon was to be employed, where the particular weapon would be obtained and how it would be safely disposed afterwards.

  If the instructions had been followed through and executed properly a day or two later, Thomas’s meagre post office bank account would be made a little more robust. This time it was to be Mycroft Holmes, as he was leaving the Diogenes club. He was expected to hail a motor taxi at exactly10:00 p.m. and was to be fatally wounded through the heart with an air pistol. “By standing in a darkened doorway across the street from the club” the instructions continued “and using a silent weapon the killer will not be witnessed or the weapon heard and the man who believes he is the government will be dead before he hits the road.”

  Chapter 9

  Dear Winifred:

  Upon receiving your letter I made it my first priority to check into the welfare of Sherlock’s older brother. Despite his being one of the names crossed off with red ink on the Survivors list that you possess he is in fact well and convalescing in hospital. So as not to worry you now, I will give you what details I have regarding his state when I arrive in Gravesend.

  As to the matter of the explosion and also the names and places on the list I can offer you no insight on either at this time. I believe though that if I were to write a persuasive enough letter I may be able to convince the apiarist living at the Beeches to put his bees into qualified hands and come first to London to visit his brother then to Gravesend to help us sort out what all of this means.

  All my best

  Mary

  Dear Sherlock:

  A considerable amount of time and events have passed between us since our last correspondence. I hope that the life you have chosen of a gentleman bee keeper has somewhat helped to restore your mind, spirit and body. Like you, I am also adjusting to a new life.

  Part of the adjustment for me is realizing when you have shared most daily aspects of your life with another and they have become as much a part of your daily routine as you have to them...you come to see you have woven a rich tapestry that represents a long, meaningful and wonderful friendship. Tragically, this tapestry quickly comes apart when one thread is heartbreakingly plucked out, or unexpectedly taken away leaving only one half of what had been so devotedly woven.

  But I didn’t write to you to share my observations of life as it is now. I am asking for your help in a matter that concerns your brother and a close friend of mine who I had met during the war. I should tell you straight away that Mycroft is in London Hospital where he has been admitted and is successfully recovering, on a convalescent ward, from a bullet wound he had received to his left shoulder.

  Other than his location and the state he is in I have no other information to offer you at this time. The wound he suffered might I suspect be linked directly to a list a Survivors list (as it were) that my friend living in Gravesend happened upon while examining the debris of a demolished church. Winfred, yes Sherlock, you have deduced correctly, it is the same Winifred Elizabeth Margret Jeffrey the published mystery writer well known in England, as well as in the British Commonwealth.

  The list contains a series of names of people, cities and towns, located throughout most of England. From the little Winifred has shared with me, with the exception of her name and where she lives and your brother’s name there isn’t anybody or any other place she recognizes or can place.

  Remove the devastated church and all of the sundry damage that was caused by the resulting blast and this would be a matter better suited for the local constabulary. But because of the occurrence of Mycroft’s name being on the list (and being struck through with red ink) and also that a possible attempt was made on his life, makes me think that this wasn’t some random series of unconnected events. I further worry that other important people listed may not experience the same good fortune that your older brother had.

  What I am asking of you comes as two requests. First, please come to London to visit Mycroft. I am sure that he will welcome the company and when you have shared my letter with him knowing of his vast memory for relevant data it may be possible he already knows of this Survivors list and can cast more light on how it came into existence and more importantly, its intended purpose and reason.

  Second, when you have learned what you can from him please continue your journey to Gravesend, your company and friendship is missed. When I have heard from you, I will arrange to have a standing reservation for a room at the George Inn located at number 38 Queen Street. I will finish by saying, as of late, I have been experiencing some feeling of dread. It occurs to me that the longer Winifred retains ownership of the Survivors list that if someone should come to know the circumstances as to how she obtained it, her life may be in peril.

  Finally to assure you, I am not asking you to come to Gravesend in the capacity of a consulting detective this would be a thoughtless imposition on my part and I would understand your trepidation about even considering such a request. I only ask that you come as a friend who is much in need of a change of scenery. I would enjoy seeing you again. In addition, I would appreciate if you could share whatever you may have learned from Mycroft in hospital. Perhaps the information he may pass on to you might be applied to Winfred’s situation and to the Survivors list.

  Please let me know if you accept my invitation and when you will be leaving London. Further, what train you will be taking so that I will be there at the Gravesend train station to meet you.

  Your friend

  Mary

  Chapter 10

  Village fetes had been a part of the social life of Gravesend for some time. However, after living with rationing during the war it had seemed inappropriate to hold one but with those days having passed into memory the annual spring event had once again been revived.

  The term fête is widely used in England in the context of a village fête. These are usually outdoor shows held on village greens or recreation grounds with a variety of activities. They are organized by an ad hoc committee of volunteers from organizations such as residents’ associations. Attractions seen at village fetes include raffles, coconut shies, bat a rat stalls, white elephant stalls, cakes, and home produce such as jam and pickles. Entertainment could include Morris dancing, tug of war, fancy dress and pet shows.

  This year’s fete had both a purpose and a theme to restore St Peter and St Paul Church. This message was replicated on large banners hung in the high street, at the entrance to the Gordon Memorial Grounds, the town hall and on the many colourful printed hand bills that were being circulated through out Gravesend and to the surrounding towns and cities.

  The Annual Gravesend Spring Fete

  To be held at the Gordon Memorial Grounds

  - and at -

  The Gravesend Town Hall

  Saturday, May 15 - from 1:00 p.m. until 9:00 p.m.

  Performing at the Memorial Grounds band stand for this event will be:

  The Windmill Hill Band and the Band of the Middl
esex Regiment

  - Many Activities and Attractions to be enjoyed -

  - All are Welcome -

  Admission fees received from this event will be given to

  The St. Peter and St. Paul Church restoration fund

  Winifred’s reply to my latest letter was waiting for me when I had returned from shopping.

  Dear Mary:

  Thank you for your reassuring words, your and Sherlock Holmes help cannot come quickly enough. I should explain. You know of the fete that has just been held here in Gravesend? Well providence and excellent weather provided a warm and cloudless climate for the event. It was commented throughout the day that the conditions were better than could be hoped for or expected.

  By 2:00 p.m. the tree lined memorial grounds and the town hall located just off the high street were filled to capacity with the sights and sounds of people attending from Gravesend and the invited surrounding towns and cities. Everyone was of course attired in their Saturday best.

  Thereby providing an ever changing scene (very much like a painting by Monet) of people mingling singly or in small groups while walking around and occasionally stopping to comment and take in the activities and attractions the banners and hand bills had promised.

  To provide a somewhat formal background to the afternoon events, those attending at the memorial grounds were entertained by a selection of rousing band music and patriotic military tunes performed (at the band stand) in turn by The Windmill Hill Band and the Band of the Middlesex Regiment. After each piece had finished (usually to the sound of bright brass cymbals being crashed together) the gathered audience would stop and applaud to show its appreciation of the brightly uniformed accomplished musician’s offerings.

 

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