The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes

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The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes Page 16

by Paul D. Gilbert


  I had every intention of taking Holmes’s most excellent advice, but decided upon one last pipe, and a further chapter of a most rousing account of the American Civil War. I soon realized that any attempt at sleep would surely be futile. This, indeed, proved to be the case, and before long the exploits of General Grant, had paled beside my fears for Holmes, and the outcome of his treacherous night’s work.

  Five anxious hours later sheer exhaustion slowly dragged my eyelids together, and I was on the verge of losing consciousness when a long, dark shadow standing over me brought me back. Long sinewy fingers were embedded in my left shoulder, prodding it gently, and a familiar voice was speaking to me.

  ‘Come along, Watson, you will do yourself no favours by sleeping here. You really must take to your bed.’

  Slowly I raised my head, and Sherlock Holmes was looking down on me, his smile unmistakable even from beneath his most extraordinary disguise. The potential adventures, and dangers of the previous five hours suddenly cleared the clouds from my mind, and I was on my feet in an instant.

  ‘Good heavens, Holmes, is it really you!?’ I exclaimed. ‘Your rendezvous with Shinwell Johnson, did it go well? Please tell me, you are unharmed?’

  ‘All went very well,’ Holmes answered calmly. ‘Indeed, things went better than my greatest expectations might have allowed. I have concluded a most gratifying night’s work. Now, however it is five o’clock in the morning, and my body craves for sleep. Do not worry yourself, I will furnish you with sufficient details for your notes and curiosity later in the day. Besides, you appear to be pretty much done in yourself.’

  ‘Be reasonable Holmes,’ I protested. ‘The sight of you, standing there in your attire, has dispelled all thoughts of desire for sleep, and I would much rather hear now. My curiosity would render sleep an impossibility, in any event.’

  Holmes considered me in silence for a moment, while he began removing his disguise.

  ‘Very well,’ he said sharply. ‘I suppose your patience, and your concern alone, merit some reward.’ Then he added with a short burst of laughter. ‘I would have enjoyed having Lestrade here though, while I dispelled his half-baked theories of international espionage. I assume, however, he will hear soon enough.’

  Holmes then dashed into his room, and when he finally returned he was dressed in his customary purple dressing-gown, all traces of the unsavoury villain now removed. He lit a cigarette and stood gazing at the dark street below, from our window. The shadow of him, cast by a single gaslight, accentuated the sharpness of his features upon the drapes.

  ‘Watson, as you may have already surmised, I discounted Lestrade’s espionage theories quite early on in our investigations.’ He began, seating himself cross legged, upon his chair. ‘Although this may have been premature of me, being ignorant, at that time, of so many facts, happily those earlier misgivings have now been dramatically confirmed.

  ‘As you know, the word coincidence has no meaning to me, especially in relation to my work. Therefore, Parkes’s disappearance, following the completion of so many identical case investigations, indicated some dark connections.

  ‘Although, until tonight, even I had underestimated the complexity of the matter. Obviously the odious fence, Silas Morrison was the connection, and he, above all others, would have welcomed the removal of Detective Constable Parkes. Thus so far, no doubt, you follow my reasoning, and the necessity for tonight’s rendezvous with the underworld.’

  ‘You have made yourself abundantly clear, so far Holmes, I confirmed.

  ‘Excellent, so now to my discoveries at Mrs Mullins, and how one of them all but saved my life tonight. The cigar ash, as you may have already deduced, indicated that Parkes was in receipt of income from sources other than the Metropolitan Police. His empty wardrobe seemed to indicate that Mrs Mullins’s was not his only residence, or perhaps, that he was in the process of moving, without informing his superiors at the “Yard”. If this was the case, my meeting tonight with Johnson, and Morrison became all the more urgent.’

  ‘I fail to see how either of these discoveries could possibly have led to your life being saved,’ I mentioned somewhat cynically.

  ‘I would be very surprised if you could, for it was neither of those. However, if you recall there was another item which I secreted in a small envelope.’ As he spoke, he jumped up suddenly, and brought the very same envelope down from the mantelpiece. Offering it to me for examination, I emptied the contents into the palm of my hand, and was not a little disappointed, and surprised, to find nothing more than a single, long strand of bright red hair.

  ‘Now come along, Holmes, how could you possibly believe that this strand of hair saved your life. I see nothing more sinister here than, perhaps evidence of Parkes having a redheaded paramour.’ I laughed at what I believed to be Holmes’s exaggeration of the hair’s importance. The icy glare, which stole across Holmes’s face, proved that my display of amusement had been a mistake. He snatched back the envelope angrily.

  ‘Holmes, I apologise, but perhaps if you were not so inclined to constantly keep information to yourself, these misunderstandings might never occur.’

  ‘Watson, you know I am not, by nature, prone to exaggeration, and if I make a statement, even one as apparently implausible as a strand of hair saving my life, you may be assured that I am stating a plain, and simple fact. However, I must confess that your criticism of my hoarding information is certainly not without foundation. Perhaps if I sketch a brief narrative of all that occurred tonight, things will become much clearer to you.

  ‘The location earmarked by Johnson for tonight’s rendezvous, was a gin house situated in one of the most deprived, and decayed sections of East London. Beggars and criminals of every description, male and female, seem to congregate on street corners, or on the steps of every gin house, plying their unholy wares. Indeed, I could not even be sure that my extravagant disguise, was not, somewhat understated.

  ‘Once inside the gin house, having closed the door behind me, the vile stench, of every known human vice and depravity, suddenly seemed to grasp, and engulf me. Stale beer mingled with opium, and dark clouds of cheap tobacco smoke wafted around in huge swells, obscuring the dim gas lights. Old women cackled amongst themselves as they slobbered over their gin, their noise only drowned out by the raucous laughter of some rather large, unsavoury villains supporting themselves upon the bar.

  ‘As you well know, Watson, I am not, as a rule, of a nervous disposition, yet never before have I felt so inclined to retrace my steps, and withdraw. Instead I descended into the mire, and lit my cigarette of shag tobacco. It was only then that I caught sight of Shinwell Johnson. He was, evidently, entertaining a small group of friends, who had convened at the far end of the bar, with some amusing tale. I made my way slowly toward him.

  ‘By pretending to stagger into the side of one of his companions I was able to draw Johnson’s attention to my arrival, without betraying him. In consequence, it was made easier for him to identify Morrison to me with equal discretion. Taking my lead, he collaborated with his companion against me, abused me for my clumsiness, shoved me away in Morrison’s direction, and singled him out with a deft motion of his head.

  ‘In the furthermost, and darkest corner of the room sat a group of five men cloaked in a film of dense, black smoke, and obviously involved in a most earnest conference. The man in their centre was of a most singular appearance, and the self evident reverence in which the other four held him, left me in little doubt as to his identity.

  ‘Even at this stage of the game I was little aware of how significant my discovery at Mrs Mullins’s truly was. The strand of hair had the feel of being part of a wig, no doubt part of Parkes’s disguise when operating incognito. As Lestrade attested, Parkes was a devotee of my method, and had often applied it to great success. I was convinced, by now, that Morrison had finally bested him, and felt it incumbent upon me to discover Parkes’s true identity and to avenge him.

  ‘To this end, I staggered
slowly towards Morrison’s table, in my role of the drunk, in the hope of catching Morrison’s attention. It was my intention, then, to lure Morrison away from his companions with a story of rich booty to be had. As I drew ever closer, the image of the men in the corner gradually became less obscure, and with a thrill that ran through me, I became aware of my fundamental error, and the true nature of how things stood.

  ‘Watson, I have often underestimated, and berated your earnest literary attempts at illustrating my method, and describing our more singular adventures. However, I must now admit that your writing must certainly evoke some degree of vividness, for there seated before me was Silas Morrison in a perfect facsimile of the disguise I donned when I penetrated the opium den during our investigation of the Neville St Clair affair. Perched on top of his head, perhaps by way of a perverse homage to the Red Headed League was a wig of long, lanky red hair!

  ‘At once, of course, I recognised the full significance of this. You see, that single red strand of hair had saved me from blundering in, and making a fatal error. If I could now separate Morrison from his associates, and catch him unawares, I would have my man. It was obvious that he could ill afford me exposing his true identity to his present company, and any fate he might suffer in police custody would be preferable to the consequences of that.’

  By now the speed, and complexity of Holmes’s reasoning had left me feeling totally bemused. ‘In heaven’s name, Holmes, you go too quickly, and assume too much! What may seem obvious to you may not always appear so to lesser mortals,’ I protested.

  ‘I humbly apologise, my dear Watson, but the lateness of the hour, and my own natural excitement have let me run away with myself. Yet surely it is now obvious, Constable Parkes was never in any real danger at all.’

  ‘You mean Morrison meant him no harm? Then surely that means Lestrade’s theory, regarding Daxer’s involvement, was sound all along,’ I suggested.

  ‘Watson!’ Holmes slapped his forehead with his left palm in exasperation. ‘Parkes is Morrison, or, at least he was prior to my subsequent conversation with him.’

  ‘So you are saying that Silas Morrison never really existed at all.’ I asked.

  ‘He was merely an invention of Parkes’s to help further his investigative career,’ Holmes confirmed.

  ‘Of course!’ I exclaimed. ‘Which is why there were no police records of the night duties that Mrs Mullins was certain he was undertaking. This also explains his incredible success rate. The criminals would bring their ill-gotten goods to Morrison, for him to dispose of, on their behalf, whereupon, in his Parkes persona, he would have them arrested shortly afterwards. It is brilliant, and a compliment to you, and your method.’

  ‘I very much regret that you choose to remind me of the part my own career has played in this sorry affair. My method, and his public trust have both been sadly abused. Do you not remember the list of crime details Lestrade had sent to me?’ Holmes asked bitterly. ‘More especially the appended list of missing objects.’

  ‘How dull I have been, and what you must now think of me for daring to link his reprehensible behaviour to your method. However, I do remember that in each case there were always items never accounted for. These, I presume, Parkes decided to keep for himself.’ I conjectured.

  ‘Ah! At last, I perceive, the first glimmer of realization has dawned on you. Tonight I was in the lair of the archdevil of crime and all his minions. This was a situation which only my own wits could save me from.

  ‘I continued my performance of the drunk, all the while drawing ever closer to Morrison’s table. At last I caught his attention. He began abusing me in the vilest, and most raucous of tones and language, and he despatched two of his henchmen to have me removed from his sight.

  ‘The immediate danger was obvious. If I missed my mark now another opportunity might never present itself, so highly did I regard his ability to cover his tracks. In an instant, with the cut-throats just inches from me, I lunged myself towards Morrison, and grabbed at his hair.

  “I shall wrench this thing from your head in an instant if your next words do not please me, Constable Parkes!” I whispered hoarsely into his ear. Quickly now.

  ‘Everything now rested on my belief that he was clever enough to realize the danger that non-cooperation would place him in.

  ‘“Leave ’im to me lads.” He called out breathlessly. “Me, and my friend are going to take a stroll upstairs and will not take kindly to being disturbed.” In docile obedience his henchmen duly complied, and resumed their seats, grumbling amongst themselves, but obviously under his control.

  ‘Without another word, he led me to a small wooden staircase, concealed behind the bar, which we hastily ascended. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Shinwell Johnson assume his position at the base of the stairs. As you can imagine, he was a most welcome sight, for if anyone is capable of holding a stairway, it is surely Shinwell Johnson.

  ‘The huge studio room Parkes led me into, I shall no longer refer to him by his pseudonym, contained all the missing pieces to our mystery. While he was securing the door with two large bolts, I looked around and realized that all the personal items on view, were, undoubtedly, those missing from his room at Mrs Mullins’s. The large cache of valuables, plate, works of art, and jewellery, were amongst those unaccounted for at the conclusion of his cases.

  ‘Apart from the items I have already mentioned, the room was otherwise quite sparse, so we each took to seating ourselves on two of many tea chests, scattered about the place. To emphasise the harsh reality of his situation I withdrew your army revolver, and kept it to hand while I re-lit my cigarette.

  ‘“I admire your courage, Mr Holmes, for coming here tonight without the company of the regular force. Mind you, Lestrade, and his colleagues are probably still expecting to find me within the clutches of foreign conspirators.” Parkes laughed briefly at this before adding: “I suppose you were confident that your ploy, downstairs would have the desired effect on me”. His voice was surprisingly refined, with only the merest trace of a modulated Lancastrian accent.

  ‘“Despite the mistakes that you have made, there is a certain cleverness about you that justified my assumption. Besides, I have a stalwart companion below who is more than a match for your new, chosen friends.” I spat out these last words with a certain bitterness.

  ‘“Besides which, you had no real proof with which to approach Lestrade, and his friends.” Parkes rejoined. “It is reassuring to know that even the great Sherlock Holmes occasionally has to resort to a gamble as his last throw. Incidentally, I have used your method in identifying you. No one else could have been capable of tracing me, and once all other possibilities had been eliminated, I realized that Sherlock Holmes lay beneath that splendid disguise.”

  ‘“I resent the way you have abused my method … Mister Parkes! As you know, my work is usually its own reward, while you have sought something far more tangible, and thereby become seduced by it. I presume that you became so involved in your business at this establishment that you realized one of your identities would have to be eliminated. This being the more profitable of the two, the choice, for you, was not a difficult one to make.”

  ‘“More difficult than you might think,” Parkes replied. “My initial goal was not a financial one, I assure you. I sought to attain your own high level of investigative achievement. Alas, I discovered the former to be the easier to obtain, and certainly the one requiring fewer personal sacrifices. Please also bear in mind, once you, and the police finally bring me to book, that not one soul has suffered injury at my hand, and a large number of odious criminals have been removed from the streets of London as a result of my little masquerade.”

  ‘I was incensed by his off hand manner, and not a little annoyed by his lack of remorse and regret. If he were seeking compliment, or admonishment from me, despite the numerous compliments he had already paid me, he was to be sadly disappointed. I decided to terminate this unsavoury interview at once.

  ‘
“I feel we shall both be safer if we retain our disguises until we reach the sanctuary of Scotland Yard. Perhaps the more so for you than for me.” Was my only response. I had observed a small panel cut into the wall at the rear of the room. This, I had correctly surmised opened to a secret exit that led to a narrow alley that ran down the side of the building. Consequently, we made safely away, the presence of your revolver rendering Parkes harmless.

  ‘My only regret was being unable to get word of our escape to Johnson, til hours later. However, he has emerged from the adventure unscathed, and Parkes now languishes behind bars, where, I trust our system of justice will ensure he remains for some considerable time.’

  ‘My dear Holmes! What a truly remarkable story,’ I exclaimed, taken aback and quite breathless with excitement.

  ‘Ah, but we are not quite finished yet, Watson. It is now imperative that we snatch a few hours of sorely needed sleep, so that we are fully prepared for the morning.’

  ‘I cannot argue with that,’ I said rising from my chair. ‘Yet I fail to see what yet remains to be done. You have performed the task so thoroughly.’

  ‘I mentioned before that I rarely seek any kind of reward for my work. On this occasion I am prepared to make an exception. I must be fit enough to enjoy the look on Lestrade’s face when he finds Parkes residing in his cell later this morning!’

  THE ADVENTURE OF THE DYING GAUL

  The inexplicably early retirement of my old friend and colleague, Sherlock Holmes, to the tranquillity of the Sussex coast in the year 1903, has, obviously, left a huge vacuum in my life. That is not to say the occasional puzzle has not attracted Holmes’s attention and from time to time he has even requested my assistance in the solving of these. However, these episodes have been few and far between and only a handful of these cases have been worthy of note.

 

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