The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes Stories Part IV

by David Marcum

  Mrs. Shaw, suspecting an assignation and ignoring the girl’s protests that she had only been asking for a candle, gave her immediate notice.

  I had flinched a little at this pronouncement. It was virtually impossible for a domestic servant to obtain employment without a reference. And immediate dismissal for illicit conduct would certainly warrant denial of a reference as well as resulting in a sordid reputation.

  Robert Shaw’s mother, knowing well that a good cook is difficult to find, had convinced her daughter-in-law to retain Miss Fanning, with a strict warning about propriety. It became apparent that Robert’s wife favored Theresa Steele from that time on.

  Holmes had listened to this recounting with great interest. The conversation then turned to the dumplings. After recovering, Orlibar Shaw had detected a white, powdery substance in one of the pans. He took it to the family doctor, who returned the next day and declared that it was arsenic. Lisa protested that it was the milk sauce, not the dumplings, that were to blame. Theresa Steele had bought the milk, not she. Fanning had pointed out that Jonathon Harkins had only eaten a bite of a dumpling, but had cleaned out the saucepan using a piece of bread.

  The younger Shaw took up the narrative as Holmes returned to his seat. “I saw no other course of action. With Dr. Marston present, I summoned a constable and told him how matters stood. The doctor supported my statements with his own and asked that Miss Fanning be placed under arrest.”

  “Sir, I tell you that she responded more calmly than I would have thought possible. She loudly insisted she had done nothing wrong, but she did not weep nor wail. I took it to mean she was convinced of her own innocence and did not fear being found guilty.” Now he stood and looked at Holmes. “But I see no other suspect, Mister Holmes. She is the cook, after all. And the arsenic was in the dumplings.”

  Holmes turned to me. “Watson, if you please.” I took the tray, which had been resting on the floor beside my chair, and placed it on the table, lifting the cover off.

  “Gentlemen, I made these myself. The plain one on the left has one gram of arsenic mixed into the batter. For the sugar coated one, I placed slightly less on top of the dumpling before cooking. As you can see, both rose as a dumpling should. What do you make of that?”

  I could see that Robert Shaw seemed a bit overwhelmed with this sudden display by Holmes. However, I saw the glint of understanding in Orlibar Shaw’s eyes, and it was he who spoke.

  “Because we assumed that arsenic caused the dumplings to rise improperly, Lisa was automatically suspected and subsequently arrested.” He stopped speaking. “But that does not mean she did not do it. However, if the arsenic was not in the dumplings...” He lapsed into silence.

  Holmes smiled at him. “Bravo, Mister Shaw. Your words and actions, both the morning after the poisoning and today, have been lucent and admirable. I daresay that, with application, you might have been a good detective.” The old man acknowledged Holmes’s compliment with a deprecatory smile.

  “Did anyone else have the opportunity to place the arsenic in the food? Was it put into the dumplings, or perhaps the sauce? Where was the poison acquired? If Miss Fanning did it, why did she eat the dumplings herself?”

  Robert Shaw seemed to come out of his daze at this last. “I can tell you where the arsenic came from, Mister Holmes. I keep some in a desk in a small office where Harkins and Edwards work.”

  He explained that everyone in the house had access to the drawer with the arsenic, which had no lock. Anyone could have taken the poison without being noticed.

  Holmes stared thoughtfully at the younger Shaw. “Most instructive, indeed. If young Harkins is available, could I speak privately with him? Watson, perhaps you could stay and recount one of our adventures for the Shaws?” Surprised, Robert Shaw took Holmes off, ostensibly to meet with the young apprentice. Puzzled, the elder Shaw and I returned to the study and sat in silence until his son returned. I made the best of an odd situation until Holmes reappeared some fifteen minutes later. There seemed to be a bit of a spring in his step.

  “Gentlemen, I feel that Watson and I have kept you long enough.” Holmes thanked them both for their assistance and assured them he would be in contact with them again soon. For their part, they seemed to genuinely wish to find the guilty party and promised full cooperation. We again said goodbye and stepped outside.

  Alone, I asked Holmes if he had learned anything useful from the apprentice.

  “Most certainly, Watson. Young Harkins was quite forthcoming. His fellow apprentice plied his affections rather loosely among Miss Fanning and Miss Steele.”

  I nodded, knowingly. It was not an uncommon situation. “It was a dangerous thing to do. Either or both women could become angry with him, and he would certainly put his position at risk if the master of the house found out and took exception.”

  “You are quite right, Watson. I believe that Lisa Fanning has been less than totally forthcoming with us and Edwards found himself in an untenable situation.”

  I expected him to say more, but as had often happened in the past, Holmes did not share whatever conclusions he had made. I had a patient to attend to, while Holmes said he had to find his Irregulars and determine what they had discovered. Accordingly, we went our separate ways.

  Part V - Chasing a Rumor

  My patient was suffering from a painful throat ailment, but it was not serious. I administered a soothing syrup and instructed him to continue using hot compresses twice a day. I stopped in my club on the way home and enjoyed a game of billiards with Strous. I lost, as usual. While I had never become an above-average player, I enjoyed the game itself. When playing, I sometimes wondered how Holmes would fare. He certainly had the concentration and dexterity required.

  I took a cab back to Baker Street and arrived before the evening meal. Mrs. Hudson greeted me as I entered and informed me that Holmes had not yet returned. I asked her to serve dinner at the usual time, determining that if Holmes were not back, he would have to fend for himself. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time he was forced to do so.

  I made myself comfortable with a soda and water and settled into my chair, sleepily scanning the afternoon newspaper. After a heavy meal, with a full stomach and in front of a warm fire, I dozed off in my chair and I awoke when Homes slammed our door shut. I must have started, for he noticed me as he entered.

  “My apologies, Watson. I did not see you.” He divested himself of his coat and continued talking. “No need to call Mrs. Hudson. I have eaten.” I was still muddled and attempted to marshal my faculties, but by the time I had regained my senses fully, Holmes was in his room, changing. I composed myself and stared at the fire, curious what he had found out during his adventures of the day.

  He returned shortly and sat in his chair, a newspaper in his lap. He gazed at me with a smile.

  “I tell you, Watson, the Irregulars are invaluable. In only one day, they located Miss Fanning’s previous employer.”

  “You mean the one who accused her of poisoning her tea?”

  “Ah yes, the poisoned teakettle. That provided a slight bit of humor, though the affair is certainly a serious one for our client. I found myself on Lion Street in Newington, just north of Walworth New Town. A Mister and Misses Alexander Hardy were the couple in question. I cannot imagine what being a domestic in their household would be like. Mr. Hardy continually hinted and implied that Lisa was sly and devious. When I finally cornered him on the matter, he could not offer up a single proof. However, he did tell me that she read books, and he never knew of any good that came of servants reading.”

  I laughed aloud. “That’s ridiculous. He actually said that to you?” My friend nodded his assent. “Certainly not an enlightened environment to work in. Poor girl. What did Mrs. Hardy say?”

  “Her story is also not without amusement, though she is far more harmless than her husband. It seems that one d
ay she saw the teakettle frothing over. Now, at some point, she had heard that a teakettle containing poison could do just that. So she emptied the kettle, scrubbed it out and boiled some water. There was no additional frothing.”

  I waited for Holmes to go on, but apparently he was finished. “Well, Holmes, what else? Surely that’s not the end of the story?”

  “But it is. I was a bit puzzled, as you are, so I asked about Lisa Fanning. She said she didn’t know if the young woman had done anything or not. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if Lisa worked for her at that time.” He looked at me with a wan smile. “This incident was reported in the press as fact. It has certainly had the effect of prejudicing public opinion against her. And it’s completely ludicrous.

  I felt compelled to say something. “Surely that can be used to her advantage.” I ventured.

  “The damage is done in the public arena. If the issue is raised at trial, her lawyer will certainly be able to dispel this myth.”

  I felt this was cheering news. “Well, that is something.”

  “I did not expect to find any truth, but it needed to be explored.”

  Holmes had nothing more to say of the case, only that I should be available in the morning. He was gone when I arose, and I had just begun my breakfast when I heard him come up the stairs and charge into our sitting room.

  “Watson, you are up. Excellent. Don your coat. I have made the final arrangements. I believe that the presence of Inspector Jones and a few stolid constables will serve our purpose well. We shall collect them on the way to the Shaw residence. I have already verified with Robert Shaw that all of the required people will be in attendance.”

  My head was spinning as I put down my fork. “Really, Holmes! What are you talking about? You’ve solved the case? Have you known all along who was responsible?”

  There was a gleam in his eye as he answered. “No, Watson, I have not been hiding the solution from you. This has been a matter characteristic of the straightforward detective work that the Yard is admirably suited for.” He shook his head. “But Jones already had his man, or rather, woman, and so did not undertake the due diligence that would have brought him the correct solution.”

  He hurried out the door and down the stairs. “Come, Watson. Miss Fanning has waited too long for this resolution.” I looked forlornly at my breakfast and then hurried after him, almost forgetting my hat on the way out.

  Part VI - Closing the Case

  “Thomas Edwards: you are a scoundrel! You encouraged the affections of Lisa Fanning, enjoying the proximity of such a pretty female. However, perhaps due to her upbringing, or perhaps due to the scare she had when Mrs. Shaw caught her coming out of your room late one night, she did not share her charms as, expressively, as you wished.

  “So, you turned your attentions to Theresa Steele. It would seem that she reciprocated your advances in a satisfactory manner. Perhaps you even told Miss Steele that you were done with Miss Fanning, while the latter knew nothing of your change in affections.”

  I glared disapprovingly at the apprentice, trifling with young women’s emotions thus.

  “Miss Steele, who seems to be somewhat lacking in character, desired to replace Miss Fanning not only in your embrace but also in household position. Tell me, was it her idea to put arsenic in the sauce? Not a fatal dose, but enough to create a situation that would result in removing Miss Fanning from service? Miss Steele would certainly have an opportunity to advance her standing if such occurred.”

  Edwards stared sullenly at Holmes, jaws clamped shut. I discreetly looked at Theresa Steele, who was holding her elbows with her hands, as if she were trying to keep from visibly shaking.

  Holmes, waved a hand in dismissal. “It is of no consequence. When Miss Fanning went to deal with the coal merchant, you snuck into the kitchen and put the poison in the sauce. You shall hang for it!”

  “Theresa did it, not me!” His fierce cry broke the silence. “It was her idea, just as you said. She made me take some arsenic from the drawer in the study. She wanted Lisa’s job. She put the poison in, not me!”

  This was too much for Steele, who charged across the room and began hammering her fists ineffectually on Edwards’ chest. “You dirty, rotten liar! It was all your idea! You said that you wanted to get rid of Lisa so we could be together.”

  It could have been a trick of the light and a result of the charged emotions in the room, but her eyes seemed to flash. She took several steps back and, in a calmer but still hostile voice, she went on, “You put the poison in the food. I saw you sneak into the kitchen when Lisa was talking to that coal seller.”

  “Why, you lying tramp. You’ll not hang this on me. You spread your legs for me so I would help you get rid of Lisa. Whore.”

  I will admit, dear reader, that I was too stunned by such a foul accusation to do anything but stare, open-mouthed. Thus, I was flat footed when Theresa Steele screeched like a harpy of Greek legend and launched herself at Edwards, clawing at his face.

  Two of the constables brought by Inspector Jones pulled her off, with no little difficulty, I might add. Jones put the wrist irons on Edwards, taking him in hand.

  “I take it Miss Fanning will be released post haste, Inspector?”

  “That’s not for me to say, Mister Holmes,” he replied as he moved Edwards towards the door, his two men struggling to maintain their hold on Theresa Steele. “But I’m sure it will be as you say.”

  Robert Shaw gave hearty thanks to Holmes for saving Lisa Fanning, though I suspected his wife would be less than elated to discover she needed to find a new cook. Theresa Steele was no longer available, and I could not imagine Lisa coming back to work for the Shaws.

  Note

  In 1815, Elizabeth Fenning was accused of attempting to murder her employers by putting arsenic in their dinner. Fenning, who insisted she was innocent, did not have a Sherlock Holmes on her side and a disinterested defense, coupled with a questionable trial, resulted in her being found guilty and hung.

  The Disappearing Anarchist Trick

  by Andrew Lane

  As a medical man, I am aware that I may have given the impression, in the many published chronicles of my adventures with my friend Sherlock Holmes, that he is some kind of “superman” (if I can quote the German philosopher Nietzsche) - never being injured, never suffering from an illness, not subject to the normal agues and accidents that the rest of humanity has to bear. As readers, you have conspired with me in allowing this picture to have become widespread amongst the general public, the police and, perhaps most importantly, the criminal classes.

  The picture is not true, of course. A picture is a reduction, a concentration of a complex scene or situation into a few well-chosen strokes of the paint brush or the ink pen. Although Holmes’s constitution is one of the most remarkable I have ever encountered, and his ability to ignore debilitating physical pain is frankly astounding, I have over the years seen him suffering from a range of injuries and illnesses. He does not, I should point out, make a good patient.

  I am not referring here, of course, to the time when he pretended to have caught a rare tropical disease in order to trap the cunning murderer Culverton Smith. On that occasion he was merely using his theatrical skills to impersonate a man near death. However, Sherlock Holmes ill is just as irritable and eccentric as Sherlock Holmes pretending to be ill. Nor am I referring to any indications of mental instability that Holmes may exhibit from time to time. Although the science of the mind lags several centuries behind the science of the body, I am familiar enough with the work of the Viennese Circle to understand that Holmes exhibits certain behavioural characteristics which are shared with others whose mental states are, shall we say, different from the norm. This is not a sign of weakness, however. Quite the opposite: I have come to understand that the way Holmes’s brain operates is the reason for his success as a detective, not a stumblin
g block.

  Returning, however, to physical problems, I remember in particular an incident that occurred in the winter of 1894. Holmes had been retained to investigate a case which I subsequently wrote up as “The Problem of the Monkey and the Plywood Violin”, although at his insistence I have never submitted the manuscript for publication. I have left it instead in the tin dispatch box in which I keep all of the cases from which, for whatever reason, the eyes of the public should be shielded.

  During the denouement of that case, however, my friend twisted his ankle whilst we were escaping from the flames of Professor Tulp’s self-styled “Establishment of Pain and Degradation”, and I had to virtually carry him through the streets of Hackney Wick in search of a carriage. I strapped the limb up, of course, once we returned to Baker Street, and Holmes already had several walking sticks at Baker Street which he could now use for their intended purpose of supporting his weight, rather than engaging in fights with them, but he still had to rest it as much as possible if he expected it to heal. That, of course, was exactly the wrong time for his brother Mycroft to ask for his help in a matter of national import.

  We travelled by cab to Mycroft’s office in Whitehall, rather than his club. Given that the room was panelled in dark oak and the marble corridors outside were hushed, I did not see much difference.

  “You still have the same office that you did twenty years ago,” my friend observed, “despite the fact that you have been promoted many times since and have moved Ministries twice.”

  “I prefer familiar surroundings,” Mycroft rumbled. As I watched him from the doorway, sitting in a reinforced chair near where his temporarily physically incapacitated brother stood, I wondered to what extent his weight was leading to rheumatism, arthritis, gout, and a range of other problems. I also noticed that he signally failed to offer his brother a seat.