Sherlock Holmes and the Mystery Writer

by Fred Thursfield

  Nobody would guess that his final “well done lads, we will soon have a church we can worship in again” would be the last words the builder uttered before being discovered by a barge captain on his way back from Frindsbury to Gravesend early the next morning. Charles was found floating face down in the Thames and Medway Canal.

  Evan Clark, in his late fifty’s and with the typical appearance of any of the grizzled barge captains working the canal had made the uneventful trip many times from Gravesend to Frindsbury always with a full cargo on board going up canal and usually returning empty down the canal.

  Each trip started much as the previous one had. Usually in the early morning while still tied to the dock Evan supervised his crew making sure that the many wooden boxes and crates being transported in the fore and aft cargo holds of the barge were equally distributed. This would ensure that once underway the Eliza although always moving low would sail evenly keeled in the canal’s water.

  When the fore and aft cargo holds had been closed and secured and the large brass gauge registered that there was full pressure in the boiler Captain Clark gave the command to “cast off fore and aft lines.” With that order he first gave two short blasts of the barges whistle then opened the controlling valve allowing the live steam to leave the boiler and enter the barges steam engine.

  This then caused the propeller to start turning thus giving the heavily laden barge a slow but steady forward momentum to counter the slow moving current of the water flowing in the opposite direction. With a slight turn to the left of the barges wheel the Eliza slowly slipped away from the dock and started plying into the deepest part of the waterway.

  The cargo less return voyage from Frindsbury to Gravesend the next morning required only a full tank of water and a tender full of coal to power the barge’s steam engine. If Evan Clark could rouse his crew early enough from their overnight accommodations with a bit of luck the Eliza and her crew could with a full head of steam slip the dock at first light and be underway down the Thames and Medway Canal to return home by mid day.

  It was later in the day when it was discovered that when the Eliza docked at Gravesend she and her crew had returned with some unexpected cargo. People near the dock were first to make the discovery and soon knew that this wasn’t the usual cargo a canal barge carries when they heard Captain Clark’s strong voice carry across the watery distance remaining between the barge and the dock hailing urgently “somebody find the doctor.”

  As this was happening Winifred and I were returning from Munns of Gravesend located at 8, Windmill Street. Munns was the local stationer and office supply shop where she went whenever she needed to purchase more typing paper and typewriter ribbons. We were passing the dock area together when we witnessed a large crowd of people milling around one of the canal barges docked there.

  The two things that piqued Winifred’s curiosity as a mystery writer and made both of us detour from our return journey to her home and instead venture down to the dock to investigate were first hearing the urgent request and what appeared to be oddly shaped excess cargo loosely covered with a canvas tarpaulin almost casually stored near the bow of the barge.

  When Winifred and I made our way down to the dock through the increasing and curious throng who had gathered to have an unobstructed view of the scene I was passed on my right by a young fairly well dressed gentleman I took to be the town doctor. Both Winifred and I watched as he stepped confidently from the dock onto the gently rising and falling deck of the Eliza.

  He preceded a few steps along the deck to where the canvas tarpaulin covered cargo lay...the doctor bent down on one knee then pulled the cover away to reveal that the cargo was instead the water logged lifeless body of a middle aged man, who apparently had only been recently pulled from somewhere along the canal.

  Seemingly unaware of the increasing number of impromptu witnesses (and their various comments) gathering at the dock the doctor did a passing examination of the deceased while face down then rolled the soaking body on its back to do a more thorough examination and possibly ascertain the cause of death.

  The doctor righted the pallid lifeless head as if to have it look up at the sky then out of respect he closed the now sightless eyes. Winifred witnessing this gesture and recognizing the drowned man shuddered with disbelief and said in a voice low enough that only I could catch “Dear God Mary that was Charles Slade one of the men I went with to inspect the church after the explosion.”

  Watching her start to tremble uncontrollably and that the color was fast draining from her face I realized how bad a reaction she was having. Not only witnessing the courtesy that had been performed but at seeing her first dead body. All this was made even more terrible because she had obviously known the man no matter how casual their relationship may have been.

  I put my hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm Winfred down and quietly suggested that she should take her recent purchases return home and that I would join her shortly thereafter. Suddenly feeling as if I was about to take on the role John had played with Sherlock I told Winifred I would find out as much as I could as to how this incident had come to pass.

  Making sure that while Winifred still a little shaky was making her way back to her home I confidently stepped through the large crowd that by this time was gathered at the dock. Continuing onto the moving deck of the barge I walked up to the corpse and without any thought asked if I could examine the deceased. The doctor still bent over and concentrating on his task of examination looked up in my direction and sounding a little irritated asked “and you are?”

  “I am Mary Watson, the widow of Dr. John Watson, (I used this opening phrase hoping that the young doctor might make some type of quick connection between myself, John and Sherlock and therefore establish a credible reason for my unusual request) “I assure you that I am a trained nurse. I have seen corpses much worse than this before and only wish to conduct a quick examination of the deceased because I believe there may be a connection between this man and my friend who I have just sent home.”

  Chapter 15

  John had taught me that when conducting an investigation no clue was too small or insignificant to ever be overlooked. Individually they might not amount to anything, but when logically stitched together with deduction and reasoning the final garment could bring you one step closer to solving the crime.

  Hearing my assured answer the young doctor rose to his feet immediately extended his right hand in greeting and in a very apologetic voice replied “Mrs. Watson I sincerely apologize...although I did not know your husband personally or as a medical doctor I knew of him and admired him as an excellent chronicler of Mr. Holmes detective cases.”

  After shaking hands with the young doctor, whose last name was Briggs he took me into his medical confidence and shared what he had learned from his examination. “To begin with, given the present condition of the body he has been in the water from this time yesterday until he was found and brought back. I would say that he may have been killed before being disposed of. I surmised this while he was face down on the deck because I noticed a large contusion at the base of the skull breaking his neck. In my opinion, no matter what was used to strike the killing blow the person doing it had considerable strength.

  “There is no evidence to suggest that the intent was ever to drown him. There were no signs on the wrists or ankles that he put up any type of struggle. The way the hands and feet were bound might suggest this but I believe the killers plan was to attach a heavy weight to the bindings causing the body to sink after being pushed over the side of a small boat to end up at the bottom of the canal and never be found.

  Our killer, while being proficient at dispatching people and binding hands and feet was not successful enough to make secure the heavy weight obviously needed to keep the body anchored at its final intended position.”

  “The weight came loose at some time after he was in the water
and that was how the deceased was discovered by the captain of the Eliza, the barge you are now aboard was at about the mid way point of her return journey. They (the barge and her crew) were slowly coming around a gradual right hand bend in the canal when one of the crew noticed something unusual floating on the surface just ahead mid channel in the water. What they first took to be a large water logged tree stump when they came along side turned out to be this unfortunate man now lying lifeless here.”

  “This is at best a very superficial autopsy Mrs. Watson when he is delivered to Joseph Hay & Son one of Gravesend’s funeral homes which also serves as the local morgue, I’m sure the chief mortician there will be able to fix the time of death, how long he was in the canal and what was used to cause the fatal blow to the back of his head.”

  Extending me professional courtesy the doctor offered “If you give your address I can have a copy of the mortician’s autopsy sent to you.” Thinking back earlier on how badly Winfred had reacted to seeing her very dead acquaintance on the deck of the Eliza I thanked Dr. Briggs for his time and declined the offer, reasoning that there would be no need to bring this scene back to her any time soon.

  When we had finished with the still body of Charles Slade, Dr. Briggs bent down to respectfully cover it again with the canvas tarpaulin then went to arrange transport to the funeral home, I returned to Winfred’s to see how she was dealing with an event that up to now had only taken place in her writers imagination and within the pages of her books.

  Chapter 16

  When I returned to Winifred by mid afternoon I wasn’t sure how much of what I had learned I wanted to share with her. From her lack of notice as I walked into the room to the fact that she was seated but not moving in a comfortable rocking chair staring vacantly I noted she was holding onto but not looking at what I took as being the Survivors list. I said a quick wish to myself that it would not be too much longer until Sherlock might join us and bring all of her growing unfortunate involvement to an end.

  After removing my coat and hanging it up, I walked over to where she was seated and patiently waited in front of her until she noticed me. Seeing me motion slightly she looked up from the paper she was holding and as if I had just made some loud and distracting noise Winifred acknowledged me “Mary you are back, what did you learn?” Seeing at just how tight she was holding the paper in her hands and that her natural colour had not yet returned I decided that some facts did not need to be disclosed to her just yet.

  “Not much more than what you knew when you left” I heard myself say to Winifred as I saw the shoreline that was the truth drifting away “other than drowning the doctor was not able to tell a great deal as to how your friend finished the way he did.” Deciding it was best if I separate Winfred from what was obviously causing her unnecessary distress I gently took away the paper she was holding in her hands and placed it just out of reach.

  Now making the return journey back to the truth I finished “but he is being taken to the local morgue where a full autopsy will be performed and the cause of death will be learned.”

  “Are you ready for tea?” I asked in an up beat voice hoping to break up and dispel the storm clouds I could see gathering around Winifred. Leaving the spot where I had been standing the Survivors list and I made our way to where the kettle was sitting on the range to fill it with cold water in anticipation of enjoying a warm relaxing drink. Placing the list high on a shelf where I hoped it would not be found for some time I said as much to myself as to Winifred as I reached for the large copper kettle “I think I will slice some bread and make sandwiches with the jam I bought from the fete, are you hungry Winifred?”

  Chapter 17

  “Second when you have learned what you can from him (Mycroft) 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 believe you have a reservation for me under the name of Mrs. Mary Watson.” The front desk clerk at the George Inn noticed that the tone of voice and manner of dress of the man in front of him making this statement was one worthy of respect.

  First scanning Sherlock from his top hat to his well polished shoes he asked “Only one bag then sir?” Sherlock answered “Yes, I don’t expect to be in Gravesend for any great amount of time, other than to visit with an old friend and attend to some professional matters I believe my visit here will be short.”

  As if some great mystery had been instantly solved with the words “Ah yes” the front desk clerk with the gesture of removing the pen from its ink well and holding it in anticipation of transferring temporary ownership to the guest instructed Sherlock to fill out the guest register. He then stated “I’ll have the porter show you to your room sir.” With one precise ring of the front desk bell an older uniformed porter was soon standing beside Sherlock waiting for instructions.

  “Henry, show the gentleman with his bag up to room 16, one of our nicer rooms Mr. Holmes with a street view.” As Sherlock and the porter following carrying the luggage started making their way towards the main staircase the front desk clerk enquired “Is there anything else we can do for you while you are staying at with us?” Sherlock turned and reached into one of his inner coat pockets and pulled out a carefully folded piece of paper. Passing it to the front desk clerk Sherlock instructed him “Ring this telephone number and please leave a message with or for a Mrs. Watson tell her that I have arrived and have checked into my hotel. Please also inform her as we had previously planned, that the three of us will meet tomorrow afternoon at the Oradea tea room.”

  Chapter 18

  The Fort Gardens were donated to the residents of Gravesend by General Gordon of Khartoum fame. The grounds originally belonged to Fort House and contain the Gordon Memorial Garden. The terracotta statue of Gordon (placed prominently within the gardens) was made by Doulton Lambeth after the General was killed by the Mahdi’s troops whilst protecting Khartoum, the capital city of Sudan. It commemorates the charitable work undertaken by Gordon whilst a resident of the town between 1865 and 1871, particularly his provision of schooling for under privileged children.

  The Gardens saw the most use during the summer weekends when couples and families would come in the early afternoon to stake out small areas of the well kept green lawn for picnics or just to spend the day together. The gardens saw limited use during the week, this being in the form of working class pedestrians making their way on the gravel paths to and from work.

  Stan Mayes (the local inn keeper) of the Red Lion located on Crete Hall road enjoyed the early morning smells of the flowers, sounds of the waking local birds and the crunch the gravel on the path made under his feet as he walked daily from his home to work. The rising sun that kept him company helped take off the morning chill from the overhanging branches and leaves and what Stan thought he felt in his bones.

  The evening return journey for Stan was even more enjoyable. By the time he has closed the Red Lion for the night all of the gas lights in Gravesend had been lit, as well as, the gas lights along the familiar gravel path through the gardens that would take him home. The warm gently flickering light they provided seemed to illuminate and guide him on his journey. Instead of the accompanying sounds of birds there were the gentle musical sounds of crickets singing in the undergrowth and the occasional bull frog off in the distance calling for a mate.

  As he passed the terracotta statue of the General, Stan knew that his return journey was half completed and soon he would be sitting down to a warm supper. Only this time his journey would be quickly and violently ended by an unseen assailant of considerable strength who had been lying in wait for sometime waiting for him to pass by this point on the path.

  Stan Mayes (the local inn keeper) of the Red Lion located on Crete Hall road was found dead early the next morning on the gravel path at the foot of the statue.
Dr. Briggs when examining the slumped body would later note that although the hands and feet were not bound the type of wound and the cause of death was consistent with the one suffered by Charles Slade.

  Chapter 19

  The busy and bustling afternoon Oradea tea room would be the setting for a much anticipated and long overdue reunion. All I knew of Sherlock’s new life up until this moment was what I had retained from the few brief pieces of correspondence that had passed between us. The last image I had of him was when he was in disguise as a Dutch bricklayer in John’s and my front hall getting ready to leave for his journey to France.

  When I arrived just a bit before the appointed time I asked madam Jarkovácz for a table near the entrance, that way I would see his arrival at 2:00 p.m. and know it was him no matter how much he might have changed in three years. He would also see me without having to search all of the patrons now seated at the tables.

  I had asked Winifred to arrive at around 2:30 p.m. this would give me time to get reacquainted with an old friend and prepare him for Winfred and all the events that had become associated with her.

  “Will this table be suitable and would you like to order now?” madam asked me while pointing to the one in front of her. I nodded yes, and told her I would order when my guests had arrived then removed my coat sat down; got comfortable and took in the atmosphere and ambiance of the surrounding scene.

  While watching the other patrons and catching bits of conversations I tried not to let the feelings of either anticipation or disappointment overtake me while I awaited Sherlock’s entrance. The appointed time came and went and no one came to or entered the tea room. I started to play all manner of scenarios in my mind to explain his absence. This started me feeling both a little disappointed and worried when a rather fussy thread bare clergyman came and stood at my table; he looked at me for a few moments then asked in a reedy voice “are you waiting for someone?”