Secrets From the Deed Box of John H Watson, MD (The Deed Box of John H. Watson MD)
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What have people said about Tales from the Deed Box of John H. Watson MD and More from the Deed Box of John H. Watson MD ?
“…delicately woven stories in the Conan Doyle tradition so that the reader cannot decipher where Conan Doyle’s brilliant sleuth leaves off and where Ashton’s begins.Truly a masterful addition to the Holmes legacy of wit, sleuthing and surprises!”
Linda Rae Blair
“These are marvelous stories where all elements including descriptions of settings, characters and plot are done to perfection. The author has followed the approaches of the original Doyle stories to the extent that these could have been easily included in the original works.”
Dr Darold C Simms
“As a life long Sherlock Holmes fan, I can say I truly enjoyed these three new stories. Hugh Ashton does a great job in the tradition of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.”
Vince Drexelius
“It is very, very difficult to believe that these tales are not the work of ACD himself. To use the word ‘imitation’ implies inferiority, which the style most certainly is not – instead it is a magnificent emulation of the writing style of Sir Arthur, the language, syntax and grammar are exactly as one would expect from the man himself.”
Nick Tucker
Secrets From the Deed Box of John H. Watson MD
Four Darker Untold Tales of
Sherlock Holmes
As Discovered By
Hugh Ashton
Secrets from the Deed Box of John H. Watson MD Hugh Ashton
ISBN-13: 978-1470194840 ISBN-10: 1470194848 Published by Inknbeans Press, 2012
© 2012 Hugh Ashton and Inknbeans Press
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form,or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are written in respectful tribute to the creator of the principal characters.
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Contents
Preface
Foreword
Dedications
The Conk-Singleton Forgery Case
The Enfield Rope
The Strange Case of James Phillimore
The Bradfield Push
About The Author
Preface
by Linda Rae Blair
Author of The Preston Andrews Mysteries series
& 100 Years of Brotherly Love
Ashton is a master at getting into Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s head. He has ingeniously finished these cases with a hand equal to the original tales of Holmes and Watson. His language is authentic to the sleuth and his dear Watson, his characters are true to the 221b Baker Street gang and his solutions leave nothing uncovered. His Holmes is typically brilliant and unfathomable; Watson is even more capable than we suspected. He pleases his dear friend by showing an astuteness that we always suspected was there.
If you see Ashton and Holmes working together, you’d better buy the book—you won’t want to miss it!
Foreword
The deed box of Dr Watson, presented to me some time ago by a friend who rescued it from the archives of a London bank, continues to produce treasures. The four stories in this collection, which I have entitled Secrets from the Deed Box of John H Watson MD, all represent some aspect of Holmes and his adventures that has previously been undiscovered. In many ways these are somewhat darker in tone than the stories that he did release to the public and publish in the Strand magazine.
For some reason, Watson failed to date most of Holmes’ adventures, and we must therefore make a guess at the chronology of these stories through their allusions to other cases.
The first of these tales, The Conk-Singleton Forgery Case, is mentioned by Watson. He gives no other details in The Adventure of the Six Napoleons, and the story was presumably withheld from the public on account of Holmes’ brush with the police as described here. The story provides excellent examples of Holmes’ skill in deduction from seemingly trivial observations, as well as details of his methods of working a case.
The next story, The Strange Case of James Phillimore, is likewise mentioned in passing by Watson. James Phillimore is described as stepping into his house to retrieve his umbrella, never to be seen more in this world. This brief description implies a somewhat supernatural twist to things, but the truth of the matter is even more surprising. The open antagonism between Sherlock Holmes and some officers of the Metropolitan Police Force may come as somewhat of a surprise to those who have always regarded him as an unflagging ally of the official guardians of law and order.
In The Enfield Rope, we enter unknown territory. Watson never alluded to this case. The principals here were far too well-known to Watson’s public to allow of this case’s publication, even with pseudonyms, and respect for the British Establishment would have restrained Watson in this instance. Holmes’ sense of the dramatic is shown here, and his admiration and liking for a member of a part of society that was often shunned at that time shows a human, more attractive side to Holmes than is often portrayed by Watson.
One of the joys of the exploration of the Holmes papers has been the increasing knowledge I have gained of the character and accomplishments of John Watson. Often regarded as little more than a sidekick to his more illustrious companion, it is interesting to see how often he serves as an accomplished investigator in his own right, while remaining modest about his abilities. Indeed, Holmes very often seems to rely on Watson’s work in order to achieve the solution of a case.
In the Hound of the Baskervilles, Holmes remarks to Watson, “It may be that you are not yourself luminous, but you are a conductor of light." I would contradict Holmes’ opinion here, and maintain that Watson, though by no means the shining beacon exemplified by Holmes, nonetheless still manages to provide sufficient illumination to shed light on the mysteries presented to his more famous friend.
There are still more sealed envelopes in the deed box awaiting perusal, but the papers are becoming brittle in the Japanese climate, and Watson’s handwriting seems to have deteriorated over time. It may be a matter of a few months before I am able to decipher more of the stories lurking at the bottom of the box.
Hugh Ashton, Kamakura, 2012
Dedications
Many thanks to all who have assisted in making this latest collection of stories available in their present form:
To all my readers, and my Facebook and Twitter friends. These books came into being through the Internet, and it is hard to imagine how this could have happened without the benefit of this technology, which Holmes himself would have welcomed and employed enthusiastically. The support and encouragement I have received from all over the world have served as an inspiration
and a spur.
Once more my thanks to all those at Inknbeans Press, and Jo, the Boss Bean, for their sharp eyes and ears, helping to smooth out the roughnesses and the infelicities of my writing.
And to Yoshiko, my patient wife, who is slowly learning to live with an author who seems to be always living in the past, and is continually putting himself in the position of a fictional detective who lived and worked over a century ago.
Secrets From the Deed Box of John H. Watson MD
As Discovered By
Hugh Ashton
Sherlock Holmes & The Conk-Singleton Forgery Case
Editor’s Note
At the end of The Adventure of the Six Napoleons, Holmes asks Watson to “get out the papers of the Conk-Singleton forgery case”. We may assume that the investigative portion of the case had been completed at the time of the adventure of the Napoleons, and the “papers” to which Holmes referred were notes from which he was to present evidence as a witness in the trials resulting from his investigations, and from which John Watson faithfully chronicled the exploits of his illustrious friend.
Few readers of the accounts of Sherlock Holmes as originally presented by Dr Watson will be aware of the fact that the great detective actually spent a night in the cells as a guest of Her Majesty while under arrest. This may well be the reason why the account of this case was not originally published, and remained locked in the deed box. Despite his seeming fall from grace, Holmes shines in this case, and it is good to see that his past assistance to the Metropolitan Police here bears fruit in the form of Inspector Gregson’s goodwill and cooperation.
-oOo-
I had been married for some years when this singular adventure occurred, which involved a series of extraordinary events in connection with the City of London and with the world of finance, far from Holmes’ usual area of activity.
For myself, I had some personal interest in the area of stocks and shares and investments. My Army pension, though not in any way an excessive amount of money, nonetheless provided me, when combined with the income from my growing practice, with enough money for my dear wife and myself to live comfortably.
Indeed, there was more than enough for our immediate requirements, and I had invested in the City, using some of the surplus that we been able to save. As I had no reason to flatter myself with regard to my expertise in these matters, and there was no cause for any observer to single me out as a shrewd investor, I had availed myself of the services of a broker in whose hands I had placed myself. I had visited his offices close to Leadenhall Market, when I found myself passing Baker Street on my return to my home, and determined to call upon Sherlock Holmes.
It had been some time since I had paid a visit to my old haunts, but Mrs Hudson welcomed me as an old friend, and after enquiring after my wife, informed me that Holmes was in residence, and would, she assured me, be glad of my visit.
“He’s been busy these past days,” she told me, “going in and out at all hours, but he seems to have stayed indoors all day today.”
I mounted the stairs and knocked on the well-remembered door.
“Enter,” came the familiar voice from within, and I opened the door, to discover my friend lying on his back at full length on the hearth-rug, with his feet propped on the seat of a dining chair. His eyes, which had apparently been closed, opened slowly, and his head turned to face me.
“Well, Watson,” he remarked, removing his feet from the chair and slowly returning to a more normal upright posture, “you have been quite a stranger these past weeks. I trust that the demands of managing a portfolio of investments in addition to those of your practice are not proving to be too onerous for you. By the by, I do not recommend moving out of Imperial & Colonial and into Baxter’s Patent Bicycles, no matter how the former may have fallen in the past few days. But do not let these merely financial matters depress you. Take a seat, fill your pipe, and make yourself at home.”
“You never fail to amaze me,” I replied. “I have indeed been to visit my broker, and my holdings of Imperial & Colonial have suffered losses recently. And he was recommending Baxter’s as an alternative, advising me to clear out of my I&C, as he refers to them, and to re-invest. But how do you come to know all this about me, and about the Exchange? I had not figured you for an expert in business and financial matters of this kind.”
“Nor am I, in the usual way of things,” Holmes answered. “In answer to your first question, when I see you with the pink of the Financial Times emerging from your pocket, which was never your everyday reading fare when you lodged here, I must conclude that you have taken an interest in the world of the City. I see that you are carrying that parcel containing a small cheese, a Wensleydale, if the shape, size and odour do not lead me astray. Such a cheese is one of the specialities of Crompton’s, the cheesemonger in Leadenhall Market, so I deduce you have visited the City, on a professional financial matter which you combined with the pleasure of indulging in a little luxury. I do remember your telling me once that you had invested in Imperial & Colonial, and when I see the prospectus of Baxter’s Patent Bicycle Co. protruding from within the folds of the Financial Times, I must therefore infer, given the precipitous fall of Imperial & Colonial, that you are considering transferring your financial affections elsewhere.”
“All this is absolutely true. My wife and I are both extremely partial to Wensleydale cheese, and as you say, Crompton’s carries the best in London. Though how you can identify it as such, given the smell of tobacco in here, is beyond my understanding.” Indeed, the atmosphere in the room was close, and reeked of the strong shag tobacco that Holmes affected. “And, naturally, you are correct in your financial deductions.”
“Naturally,” he smiled, refilling his pipe. “And your next question to me will be how I come to know about these things?” I nodded. “I have been engaged in work for one of the financial houses in the City. There seems to be a conspiracy, if that is not too strong a word, to manipulate the Exchange in such a way as to benefit one party alone.”
“Surely that is the usual way of such things?” I retorted. “Such manipulations of the market are hardly a novelty, I feel. They hardly call for the services of a specialist in criminal investigation, such as yourself.”
“In this case, Watson, it would appear that there is a definite criminal element involved. Many of the shares offered for sale recently on the exchange have been forgeries. For example, the fall of Imperial & Colonial stock we have been discussing is largely due to this very fact. The majority of bearer certificates, if not all of them, as you no doubt are aware, are unregistered and the transactions of these securities remain unrecorded. Many such have been exchanged recently, with the purchasers being unaware of the fact that they have given good money for worthless paper. That in itself is not surprising, perhaps, but the sellers also seem to be genuinely ignorant of the fact that their shares are valueless.”
“I have heard nothing of this,” I protested. “I take it that this is not common knowledge.”
“It is certainly not bruited abroad,” confirmed my friend. “Imagine the panic that would spread throughout the City – nay, throughout the whole nation – were it to be generally known that shares being bought and sold in the heart of London ran the risk of being discovered to be fraudulent and quite literally, not worth the paper on which they are printed.”
“Indeed, I shudder to think of the results. It could lead to a run on the banks, and to many other undesirable consequences. Is this the diabolical scheme of an overseas power attempting to subvert the commerce of the realm?” I asked.
Holmes shook his head. “It would be tempting to imagine that to be the case,” he replied. “It seems from my investigations so far, such as they are, that we have here a villain of the native variety, and we are denied the luxury of a foreign plot. Simple greed, rather than politics, would appear to be the driving force here.”
“And who is this person?” I asked. “Have your researches revealed his identity?”
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“As yet that is not the case, I fear. I am expecting the manager of one of the larger City houses to visit me shortly, who will be expecting greater things from me than I am presently unable to provide.” He sighed.
“In which case, I should leave you,” I said, rising to my feet.
“Stay here, Watson,” he protested. “Surely you and I have worked together in the past often enough for you to know that you are always welcome as my partner and colleague in these little adventures, no matter what the current circumstances may be.” There was, it seemed to me, more than a hint of subtle malice in the allusion to my marriage, but I was determined not to let that stand in the way of my regard and friendship towards Holmes. “And indeed, I fancy I hear the good Mrs Hudson admitting our visitor now.”
About a minute later, there was a knock at the door, and Holmes rose to answer it, admitting a grossly corpulent gentleman, who was breathing heavily, seemingly from the exertion of climbing the stairs. He was closely followed by another, who presented an almost comical contrast in terms of his figure and overall appearance, which was of one who appeared to have seen better days, if his attire and the general cleanliness of his person were to be taken as a clue as to his status. The larger man was expensively and well-dressed, though I could not help but remark that some dead leaves seemed to have adhered to the soles of his boots.
He noticed me almost immediately upon entering the room. “Who is this?” he asked, almost accusingly, looking at me with eyes that seemingly twinkled, but at the same time had an air of suspicion about them.
“This is my friend and colleague, Doctor Watson,” replied Holmes. “Anything you say to me may also be safely said before him. And my visitor,” indicating the large man to me, “is Mr Charles Conk-Singleton, the senior partner of Knight and Conk-Singleton, the well-known City brokers. I have not as yet had the pleasure of being introduced to...?”