by June Thomson
Turning to me with an apologetic smile, Mycroft Holmes added, ‘I must therefore ask you, Dr Watson, not to publish an account of the case, popular though your narratives are with your many readers, myself among them. It would give too much ammunition to the Opposition to use against the government’s front benches.’
I gave my word without any hesitation and so this account will be placed among my private papers.*
Only a few more facts remain to be recorded. Huret and his companion were duly extradited, tried and, having been found guilty, were later executed. In the meantime, Holmes travelled to Paris to receive the Order of the Legion of Honour. To my surprise and delight, he brought back with him a personal present for me from the French President, a silver-topped walking-stick engraved with the date of the Covent Garden adventure, a charming acknowledgement, I thought, of the small part I had played in the arrest of the Boulevard Assassin and his accomplice.
* On 4th May 1891, Mr Sherlock Holmes apparently plunged to his death over the Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland during a struggle with Professor Moriarty, the international arch criminal. However, although the Professor was killed, Holmes survived and spent the next three years travelling in Tibet, Persia, the Sudan and France, returning to London to resume his practice in April 1894. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Final Problem’ and ‘The Adventure of the Empty House’. Dr John F. Watson.
† These cases were later published respectively under the titles ‘The Adventure of the Norwood Builder’ and ‘The Adventure of the Golden Pince-nez’. Dr John F. Watson.
‡ The Diogenes Club was situated in Pall Mall, opposite Mr Mycroft Holmes’ lodgings. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter’. Dr John F. Watson.
* As well as advising Mr Sherlock Holmes on certain cases, Mr Mycroft Holmes also introduced his brother to two investigations, those concerning Mr Melas (‘The Adventure of the Greek Interpreter’) and Arthur Cadogan West (‘The Adventure of the Bruce Partington Plans’). Dr John F. Watson.
* Monsieur Sadi Carnot (1837-1894), the fourth President of the Third Republic, was fatally stabbed by the Italian anarchist Sante Caserio at Lyons on 24th June 1894. He was succeeded as President by Jean Casimir-Perier (1947-1907) who resigned after only six months in office. An Italian anarchist was also responsible for the assassination in Switzerland of the Empress Elisabeth of Austria in September 1898. Dr John F. Watson.
* France, Great Britain’s former enemy during the Napoleonic Wars, was considered her main rival in the colonisation of Africa. In 1904, the relationship between the two countries improved when King Edward VII made a state visit to Paris which led to the signing of the Entente Cordiale in 1904. Dr John F. Watson.
† In the winter of 1890 and the early spring of 1891, Mr Sherlock Holmes was ‘engaged by the French government upon a matter of supreme importance’. Although he wrote to Dr John H. Watson from Narbonne and Nimes, he apparently did not inform Watson of the exact nature of this business. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Final Problem’. Dr John F. Watson.
* Aida was composed by Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901) and was first produced in Cairo in 1871. Mr Sherlock Holmes and Dr John H. Watson attended a Wagner performance at Covent Garden opera house after the successful conclusion of the Lucca case. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Red Circle’. Dr John F. Watson.
* Inspector Alec MacDonald of Scotland Yard, originally from Aberdeen, sought Mr Sherlock Holmes’ help with certain difficult cases, including the Birlstone inquiry (‘The Valley of Fear’). Referred to as ‘a young but trusted member of the detective force,’ he later achieved national fame. Dr John F. Watson.
* See the footnote to page 64.
* Billy, surname unknown, is mentioned several times in Dr John H. Watson’s accounts. He should not be confused with the other pageboy, also called Billy, who features in ‘The Adventure of the Mazarin Stone’. Dr John F. Watson.
* The Prime Minister in October 1894 was the Liberal leader Lord Rosebery (1847–1929) who was appointed to the office on 3rd March 1894 after the resignation of William Ewart Gladstone due to ill health. Dr John F. Watson.
* As Dr John H. Watson admitted himself, he spent half his wound pension on betting on horses (‘The Adventure of Shoscombe Old Place’). He also invested in stocks and shares. At one point, presumably because of his friend’s straitened financial circumstances, Mr Sherlock Holmes kept the doctor’s cheque book locked away in his own desk. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Dancing Men’. Dr John F. Watson.
* Mr Sherlock Holmes visited Bow Street police station during his inquiries into the disappearance of Mr Neville St Clair. Vide: ‘The Man with the Twisted Lip’. Inspector Bradstreet was on duty there on that occasion. Dr John F. Watson.
* Thurston, Christian name unknown, was a fellow member of Dr John H. Watson’s club and the only man with whom he played billiards. Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Dancing Men’. Dr John F. Watson.
† Covent Garden market was London’s main wholesale market for flowers, fruit and vegetables. Mr Sherlock Holmes visited it to interview Mr Breckenbridge, a dealer in geese, although poultry was not usually sold there. Dr John F. Watson. NB Although the original buildings remain and are used today as a shopping arcade, the wholesale market was moved to new premises at Nine Elms, south of the river Thames, in 1974. Aubrey B. Watson.
* Mr Sherlock Holmes refers to the ‘singular affair of the aluminium crutch’ in ‘The Adventure of the Musgrave Ritual’. Dr John F. Watson.
* Having qualified as a doctor at St Bartholomew’s hospital, London, Dr John H. Watson was trained as an army surgeon at the Royal Army Medical School at Netley, Hampshire and in 1879 was posted to India to join his regiment, the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. Soon after his arrival, he was transferred to the 66th Berkshire Regiment of Foot, later renamed the Royal Berkshire Regiment, and was sent to Afghanistan where he took part in the battle of Maiwand during the Second Afghan War (1878-79). Dr John F. Watson.
* Dr Watson is referring to the battle of Maiwand, 27th July 1880, during the Second Afghan War, at which he was wounded in the shoulder. He also apparently suffered a leg wound for he mentions such an injury several times in his published accounts. Dr John F. Watson.
* Mr Sherlock Holmes makes this comment in ‘The Sign of Four’. Dr John F. Watson.
* In May 1894 Herr Dowe, a Mannheim tailor, demonstrated a bulletproof coat at the Alhambra theatre, London. Weighing only 12 pounds, it contained no metal only padding although the exact material used was a secret. It was said to resemble a ‘carriage cushion’. Dr John F. Watson.
† Modern body armour was introduced on a small scale in the First World War but was very heavy. Lighter armour using steel, aluminium and fibreglass contained in a nylon garment was used in the Second World War. Modern bulletproof jackets, comprising 16-24 layers of heavy-weave nylon cloth quilted together, are used today by the army, the police force and anti-terrorist forces. Aubrey B. Watson.
* Mr Sherlock Holmes refused a knighthood in June 1902 (‘The Adventure of the Three Garridebs’) and also rejected Mr Mycroft Holmes’ earlier offer for his name to appear in the next honours list with the words: ‘I play the game for the game’s own sake.’ Vide: ‘The Adventure of the Bruce Partington Plans’. Dr John F. Watson.
* Dr John H. Watson refers to the case in ‘The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez’. Dr John F. Watson.
THE CASE OF THE WIMBLEDON TRAGEDY
I
It was on a hot July afternoon in the late 1890s* that Holmes became associated with the following investigation which was to present him with one of the greatest challenges to his remarkable powers of observation as well as his skill at deducing facts from apparently trivial evidence.
He was introduced to the case by a Mrs Woodruffe who had written to him requesting an interview. The letter itself did not indicate anything out of the ordinary. The handwriting was round, plain and legible while the address, Laburnum Lodge, Castlebury Avenue, Wimbledon, suggested the comfortable mili
eu of the middle-class suburbs. Nor were the contents of the letter at all startling. In it, Mrs Woodruffe merely stated that she wished to consult Holmes on a private matter and suggested the following Monday afternoon at 3 p.m. for the appointment.
Holmes replied by return of post, confirming the time and date, and three days later Mrs Woodruffe duly arrived and was shown up to our sitting room.
Like her handwriting, Mrs Woodruffe, a lady of middle years dressed in decent black, was round and plain and had a shrewd, no-nonsense air about her. Having seated herself at Holmes’ invitation in one of the armchairs, she came immediately to the point.
‘I am housekeeper to Mr Abernetty, a wealthy widower, Mr Holmes,’ she announced. ‘It is a post I have held for the past five years, ever since the death of his wife. I would not have troubled you with what may seem to you an unimportant matter but, to tell the truth, I am much concerned about Mr Abernetty’s well-being. I fear his life may be in danger.’
The remark was made with no attempt at dramatisation, simply being stated as a fact, and Holmes responded in kind.
‘Indeed,’ said he, settling back into his chair and regarding her with considerable interest. ‘Pray explain your reasons.’
‘Mr Abernetty has only the one living relative and she is connected to him merely by marriage as she is the widow of his late son, William, who died two years ago in a tragic accident. He was a very pleasant young man but sadly crippled after a childhood illness. However, that’s neither here nor there, Mr Holmes. To return to the point, Mrs William Abernetty, as his daughter-in-law, is old Mr Abernetty’s sole heir and on his death will inherit not only the house in Wimbledon and its contents but also, I imagine, a large capital sum. Before his retirement, Mr Abernetty was a very successful City stockbroker in the firm of Abernetty and Bland, where his son also held a position as a junior partner.’
For the first time, Mrs Woodruffe faltered and appeared at a loss as to how to proceed but, at an encouraging nod from Holmes, she took up her account again in a little burst of frankness which caused the colour to rise in her pleasant, homely features.
‘I do not like Mrs Abernetty, Mr Holmes! I do not trust her! Every Friday she drives over from Clapham by cab to have lunch with her father-in-law and seems very solicitous over his health, giving me instructions about what he should and should not eat. In my own kitchen, too, as if she is in charge of the household! I understand it was because of her interfering ways that the last housekeeper, Mrs Sheldrake, gave up the post. You see, Mr Holmes, Mrs William Abernetty helped with the nursing of her late mother-in-law until her death and nearly drove Mrs Sheldrake mad with her orders. So she packed her bags and left immediately after the funeral without even waiting to give notice.
‘But for all her fussing over Mr Abernetty, I’ve noticed that, whenever the old gentleman’s taken ill, it’s always on a Friday after one of Mrs Abernetty’s visits.’
‘Ill!’ Holmes repeated, his eyes lighting up. ‘What are the symptoms?’
‘Gastric disorders. Sickness. Pains in his stomach.’
‘I assume his doctor is called?’
‘Oh, yes, sir; of course. On all four occasions I’ve sent the gardener’s boy to fetch Dr Thorogood, Mr Abernetty’s physician, who lives nearby.’
‘And what is his diagnosis?’
‘Acute indigestion. He advises a light diet and rest and prescribes a medicine to help with the pain. After a few days, Mr Abernetty recovers. But he’s now in his seventies and, after each attack, he grows a little more frail. Oh, sir, I’m that concerned about him! He’s a lovely old gentleman, very kind and courteous, and I’m worried to death the next attack will be his last.
‘Mrs Abernetty even had the gall to suggest it was my fault the last time it happened. I’d made an apple pie for dessert and she said the cream I’d served with it was not quite fresh. Fresh, Mr Holmes! As soon as it was delivered, I put it straight into the ice-box.* It couldn’t have been fresher if I’d made it myself with milk taken from the cow that very same morning.’
‘Yes; quite,’ Holmes murmured before adding, with apparent casualness, although I noticed he was studying her face with great attention, ‘What happens to any food left over from the table after these visits by Mrs Abernetty?’
‘It’s taken to the kitchen, sir, and shared out between myself and the maid.’
‘To any ill effects?’
‘No, sir. None.’
‘And who serves at table?’
‘I do, sir.’
‘Have you ever noticed anything suspicious?’
Mrs Woodruffe gave him a long, shrewd look.
‘I believe I can guess what you are thinking, Mr Holmes, and God knows the same thought has crossed my mind more than once. Supposing Mrs Abernetty is adding something to the old gentleman’s food? Nothing would be simpler. Mrs Abernetty supervises generally in the dining room, giving me instructions as to where the dishes should be set. But that is not proof, is it, Mr Holmes? I am sure, if old Mr Abernetty were to die, Dr Thorogood would put it down to natural causes and would sign the death certificate accordingly. He has no reason to suspect Mrs Abernetty. In fact, he was full of praise for the care she took of the late Mrs Abernetty. She twists him round her little finger like she does her father-in-law. And who else am I to turn to? The police? But where is the evidence? That’s why I wrote to you, Mr Holmes. What should I do?’
Holmes rose to his feet and took several turns up and down the room, sunk deep in thought, while Mrs Woodruffe followed his every move with anxious eyes, bright with unshed tears.
Suddenly he swung about to face her.
‘I agree you are placed in a very difficult position, madam,’ said he abruptly, ‘and at this stage, there is little I can do except offer you advice. When Mrs Abernetty arrives for luncheon next Friday, behave normally. Do nothing to make her think you suspect her. That is vitally important. At the same time, keep as close a watch on her as possible. Do these Friday visits follow any particular pattern?’
‘As I said, sir, Mrs Abernetty arrives from Clapham by cab, usually at eleven o’clock, and stays for luncheon and tea. She always brings some embroidery with her and, if the weather is fine, as it has been lately, she and Mr Abernetty sit in the garden. Otherwise they remain indoors in the drawing room. After tea, at about six o’clock, the gardener’s boy is sent to fetch a cab and she returns to Clapham.’
‘And when do these gastric attacks usually occur?’
‘In the early evening, after she has left.’
‘Do you inform her of these attacks?’
‘Not always, sir. It depends how ill Mr Abernetty is. If he’s taken bad, as he has been on two occasions, then I send a telegram and she comes either that evening or the following morning. And the to-do she makes! Ordering calves-foot jelly and beef broth! I can’t call the kitchen my own!’
Holmes rubbed a lean hand thoughtfully over his chin.
‘As there is no way of knowing when the next attack will occur,’ he said, ‘I want you to preserve any food which is left over every Friday and also make sure that all plates, glasses and cutlery are left unwashed until the following morning when you are sure Mr Abernetty is in his usual health. Is that possible, Mrs Woodruffe? The servants will not consider this suspicious?’
‘No, Mr Holmes,’ she assured him. ‘Since old Mrs Abernetty’s death, the indoor staff has been much reduced. Apart from a cleaning woman who comes in daily, there is only the one maid who helps me in the kitchen and she will do as she is told.’
‘You have an ice-box, I believe?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Then I advise you to keep as much of the left-over food in it as you can. In this hot weather, it will quickly deteriorate. Lastly, Mrs Woodruffe, should Mr Abernetty become ill, inform me immediately by telegram. I should also be much obliged if you would delay sending for Mrs Abernetty for as long as possible. Should the need arise – and let us pray heaven it does not – I should prefer to have time to
make any inquiries that are necessary before she arrives. And now, Mrs Woodruffe, Dr Watson will show you downstairs and call a cab for you.’
‘Do you seriously believe Mr Abernetty’s life may be in danger?’ I inquired, as I returned to the sitting room after carrying out this errand. ‘His own doctor appears satisfied he has suffered nothing more fatal than indigestion.’
My old friend turned a most sombre face towards me.
‘I sincerely trust you are right and I am wrong, my dear fellow. Nevertheless I detect a most unpleasant whiff of foul play about this case. How did Shakespeare put it? “By the pricking of my thumbs, Something wicked this way comes.”* I could not have expressed it better myself. Mrs Woodruffe evidently feels the same disquiet.’
‘But that is hardly proof of intention to murder,’ I pointed out.
‘Never underestimate the power of intuition, Watson. It is a valuable weapon in the armoury of any detective, provided it is supported by the careful observation of material evidence. Indeed, it has long been my belief that the official police should pay considerably more attention to their own thumbs.* And we are not without other evidence to support such an intuitive assumption. There is motive. Mr Abernetty is a wealthy widower; Mrs William Abernetty is his only heir. Then there is opportunity. She could easily have added a little poison to his food. His symptoms could also point to some irritant toxin, possibly arsenic; not acute, I admit, but rather a long, drawn-out process of chronic poisoning carried out over a period of months but sufficient to undermine his constitution and lead eventually to his death.’