Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes: Volume Ii

By David B. Beckwith

James Innes Watson, the great-great-grandson of Dr. John H. Watson has inherited all of the manuscripts of his forebear. These include stories, for whatever reason Watson never published. The Murdered Professor and The Bank Vault were withheld by Watson himself, The Assassination Plot because of its political nature. Conan Doyle advised that Holmes's tales should stay in Europe, and so Holmes in America was never published, the final tale The Haunted Stable was withheld with respect to Conan Doyle's spiritual beliefs. Now after more than a hundred years these lost tales are published. An Appendix is included of the chronology.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Jul 9, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499007626

David B. Beckwith

David B. Beckwith was born in what is now Cumbria in the U.K. His family emigrated to Western Australia in 1969. David lives on a 2.1 hectare block of native bush land in a rural region bordering the city of Perth, the capital of Western Australia where in his retirement from the computer industry, he and his wife enjoy an envious lifestyle with their chickens and the resident fauna: wild rabbits, spiders (venomous), snakes (venomous), lizards, quenda (bandicoots), and brightly coloured parrots and vivid blue wrens. This is his fifth book of Holmes’s tales. Visit: david.beckwith.net.au & holmes-chronicles.com

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Copyright © 2014 by David B. Beckwith.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Rev. date: 06/30/2014

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Contents

PREFACE

1.   The Murdered Professor of Newton

2.   The Bank Vault

3.   The Assassination Plot

4.   Sherlock Holmes in America

5.   The Haunted Stable

6.   APPENDIX: Chronology

ENDNOTES

For:

Antoinette

Christopher

David

Dominic

In memory of

Arthur Ignatius Conan Doyle

PREFACE

After writing my first volume of Holmes stories, I was often asked where did the ideas come from and what motivated me to create a full story from those germs of ideas. Here is an explanation of these tales.

In the Murdered Professor my intent was to explain some history: when Holmes and Watson first meet in A Study in Scarlet Watson proclaims that he has a bull pup. Never again in the Conan Doyle Canon is the dog mentioned. Holmes’s academic career is also never clearly defined in the published Canon. This story hopefully supplies acceptable accounts of both circumstances.

For the Bank Vault story, I found that Prof. Moriarty actually appeared in only one of the stories of the Canon. Thus I thought that a story about the evilness of Moriarty, and some more background to his nature were good beginnings for a story. That also led me to think about Holmes using disguises and his involvement with the world of criminals and thieves.

In the Assassination Plot I conclude the events that follow my story Bertie in volume 1. It was most obvious to me that Holmes simply could not retire to keep bees. With a mind that once used cocaine and opium to keep its mental processes stable it does not seem logical to gaze in contemplation at bees! It was noted in Bertie that Holmes was deemed a loose cannon by the Secret Service. Thus when the Entente Cordiale and life of King and Emperor are threatened … This story explains the events after Holmes retires, Inspector Lestrade has retired, and Dr. Watson and his second wife Elizabeth have their first child.

Vanderbilt and the Yeggman is a previously untold tale referenced from the Canonical story of the Sussex Vampire - I wanted to write one of these missing cases. Intrigued by the title, I decided that it had to be set in America, and this also suited me as to filling in some more of Holmes’s background. My first foray was to discover that Yeggman was American slang. I became somewhat hesitant to start writing when I found that Conan Doyle had made a serious anachronism. He wrote the Sussex Vampire in 1924, setting that story as probably being in 1902, and referring further back in time to Vanderbilt and the Yeggman. However the first recorded usage of the word Yeggman is from 1903! I thought that I could either connive an explanation or accept another of Conan Doyle’s errors, or in my writing Watson acknowledges his error: I chose the latter. As this story was short, I decided to combine it with the other untold American tale The Dreadful Business of the Abernetty Family of Baltimore and I named my full story Sherlock Holmes in America.

The fifth story The Haunted Stable was inspired by my desire to explore an avenue that Conan Doyle would not have written about: a ghost story. This premise also provided the reasoning of why the tale written by Watson was never published. In my Holmesian world Watson would have respected the beliefs of his literary agent Conan Doyle,

The Appendix is my psuedo-history of the world of Holmes and Watson from 1810 to the present day. I started by assembling all of the Canonical works into order: based upon quoted dates, seasons, years, and Watson’s marital status. I postulated that Watson had been married twice: he is married to Mary Marston before the Reichenbach Falls Incident, but unmarried when Holmes returned to 221B Baker Street in July 1894, and yet later he is married again. Conan Doyle clearly had only a vague dating structure, I will give one example of the internal inconsistencies he created:

Wisteria Lodge commences with a precise dating of the events as being in March 1892. But Holmes was apparently killed at the Reichenbach Falls in April 1891, Holmes then went to Tibet (as ‘Sigerson’) and returned to London in March 1894. A clear conflict in dates! For various reasons I have placed Wisteria Lodge as being 24 March 1890, and similarly for other anomalies.

I am indebted to William S. Baring-Gould for his Annotated Sherlock Holmes (although I find his conjectures often too complex) and to all other chroniclers that I have used as guidance: but in the final distillation the dating order is my own.

I worked backwards from known events to establish the births of Holmes and Watson, and contrary to popular film interpretations I find that they were of the same age.

Speculations into the future history of Holmes and Watson (and his descendants) after August 2nd 1914 ‘His Last Bow’ are entirely my own.

Into this chronology I have inserted my stories and the history of the major players.

I thank my wife Antoinette, and friends Dominic and Christopher for their constructive help and assistance and for proofreading the texts. Also to David in England for his encouragement.

The Murdered Professor

of Newton

Foreword

My great-great-grandfather attached this brief note to the front of the manuscript that I have edited to form this story, it reads:

Discard the nostalgia, no one will be interested, but thus the murder tale is a little short. - Do not publish.

I believe that my forebear was wrong! I believe that people will be interested in how Holmes and Watson established themselves at 221B Baker Street, and especially the otherwise unrecorded events of the spring of 1881; and I believe that the murder does have merit. Here is the tale in full.

James Innes Watson, 2011.

*

It was in the latter half of July 1894 that I decided that I should approach Holmes regarding my renewed accommodation at 221B Baker Street. My friend had returned from the dead after the Reichenbach Falls Incident with Professor Moriarty, that was now near three years ago. This July Holmes had persuaded me to sell my medical practice to a distant cousin of his, and to this I had agreed, but not without some conditions. Verner¹ had paid handsomely, and he had agreed that my existing clientèle would be suitably vouchsafed, or if they preferred that they would be referred back to me. The use of the consulting rooms were to be available for my use for a nominal fee.

So here I was, a returned resident to 221B Baker Street with no obligations as yet defined – I must say that I had been just so happy to be welcomed back by a friend whom I had thought died in Switzerland three years ago.

I waited until I believed that the time was right, for Holmes’s demeanour could be deceiving. Then I broached the subject that was weighing upon my mind: Holmes, there is a matter of finance that we have not had any discussion about – that is to say, well - regarding my rental agreement here at 221B.

There is none! No rental! The reply from Holmes was instant, it had required no fore-thought. He lit a cigarette, you are my guest, or if you prefer, you can consider that you have already paid your rent.

Come! said I, for I was a little confused, Please explain!

Holmes inhaled deeply from his cigarette, paused, and then he continued: "The rental is ‘gratis’. I have owned this building for these last three and half years: use the skills that I have shown to you. For how else could I possibly ‘return’ and know that all would remain as ‘normal’ here in Baker Street after my absence? Thus as a long term – shall we say ‘investment’ – I bought 221B: the remuneration from but one of my clients of nobility was sufficient! My brother Mycroft knew of my circumstances regarding the perils of Moriarty. He acted as my custodian in my absence – alas poor Mrs. Hudson was obliged to dismiss her two staff during my extended stay out of this country."

Mycroft had been instructed to keep 221B in readiness awaiting my return. Or in the event that I did not return – a possibility that I could not predict - or in the circumstance that he had not heard from me within six months, then he was to …

Let us not get too morbid … he was to ‘wind up’ my affairs, as they say in the lurid newspapers.

Another pause, and another deep inhalation from his cigarette, before Holmes continued:

Just having your companionship here is to my immeasurable gain: I could not find a scale with which to balance your friendship and helpful insights against any weight in gold. We have shared many cases together – some boring – some intriguing – some that you have sensationalised into the popular press as ‘melodramatic fiction’. It is fair dues in my opinion that you should have free abode in Baker Street. When the time comes, as eventually it will, that I dispose of this asset, one half of the proceeds will be yours.

I was stunned!

Again there was a moment or two while Holmes drew upon his cigarette: But of course there are ongoing expenses: there is more than just a roof over one’s head. You will need to pay your share of the outgoings and expenses. There is Mrs. Hudson and the staff, the food, drinks, laundry, and etc. and etc. – you know, the trivia of life that I abhor: but these matters must be accounted for! However I impose no charges nor conditions regarding the roof over your head. He paused and thought a while, then he added Mrs. Hudson would probably not wish that you bring another dog into the house, and I endorse her stance.

In the silence that ensued, Holmes finished his cigarette, and then closed his eyes, appearing to nap. For myself I pondered upon these profound revelations, and soon I too was reminiscing, as Holmes had brought back old memories …

*

Holmes and I had met on Sunday the 20th of February 1881 at Bart’s Hospital, through the connivance of our mutual acquaintance Stamford. We had agreed that we could share accommodation: neither of us having habits beyond what we then perceived to be intolerable to the other, and both of us requiring a little financial assistance that a partnership could offer. At noon the next day we had met at 221B Baker Street where we had met the owner of the building, a Mr. Clement Oswald.

Mr. Oswald showed us what the lodgings had to offer. This was the entire first² floor, consisting of the stair well, corridor, a large airy sitting room; and attached to that was a bedroom facing east, with an adjoining dressing room, and also a store room suitable for clothes to the west. Up another flight of stairs to a second landing where a central passage lead from north to south: Servant’s quarters are to the rear of the building, said Oswald. To the east, that is, towards the front of the house there was a quite spacious bedroom, with an adjoining dressing room to the north. On each floor there was a toilet in the south west corner of each passage, or landing. There is no hot water ‘on-tap’ as they say, said Oswald, but the servant’s will oblige with ewers, or bath tubs as requested. Holmes and I found the situation most to our liking, and the divided rental quite reasonable; so we shook hands and the lodgings were ours. It was a most curious event: Holmes and I had known each other less that twenty-four hours.

I agreed to assume my residence that very same day in the early evening, and Holmes would follow the next day. "I shall inform Mrs. Hudson³, my house keeper, to expect you then, said Oswald, I trust that our mutual transaction will be a long and happy one!"

*

Back to the present: Holmes had awoken from his short nap with a stretching of his long legs.

A drink Holmes? I announced, to commemorate almost exactly thirteen years here at Baker Street. It was late morning. It was apparent that Holmes did not have any urgent case to solve – in fact his demeanour had been much less agitated, his fixation about his mind being stimulated had subdued. This was since his return from his travels to Nepal, he now seemed quite relaxed.

Yes! I will. A whisky and soda please. A pipe of shag and a quiet reminiscence before luncheon: but I would hazard a speculation that you have already considered that!

I shall have the same, said I, barring the tobacco, I am oft tempted, but for the memory of my dear Mary who persuaded me to foreswear it: I will resist. Two whiskys and soda it shall be!

By the time that I had prepared our drinks, Holmes had already lit his Tavern pipe. It was some fifteen inches long – but he too was somewhat more moderated in his indulgences since his return from his excursions to the east – the pipe held little more than a generous teaspoon of tobacco. Holmes rested back in his chair – for that chair had already been ‘his’ since we had first taken up residence at 221B. There was a small table to his right on this he placed his drink after taking a sip, he closed his eyes, and took a gentle ‘puff’ on his pipe. I resumed my seat opposite him, facing the bay window onto Baker Street, and took several small sips of the fine whisky. This led me to relax again and remember the time when I had first come to 221B as a lodger. Remember, remember… and again I was reminiscing…

*

After being pensioned from the army I had returned to England. I had been morose: the army pension was meagre and of a limited duration, and I felt that the Empire owed me something. After two years and four months with the British military I felt that I had done my bit for my Queen, Country, and Empire. Now I felt like I was a discarded tool that been left been out in the rain to rust. One of my vices: self pity. The few friends that I had outside of the army were scant: I perceived that they were avoiding me, and I reciprocated by not attempting to contact them. It was thus that for companionship I had acquired Marcus, my bull pup in January 1891: my hotel in the Strand was sufficiently low in the market for it to permit pets. Now all was to be a new adventure: new lodgings with a new acquaintance, I hoped that everything would go well.

It was at about five o’clock of the afternoon of Monday the 21st of February 1881 that I presented myself at the door of 221B Baker Street. I rang the bell, and I hastened to check that my tie and my attire were all of an acceptable countenance. The door opened to reveal a woman, an inch or so taller than myself. I must say that she was an imposing woman, not only for her height, for I am five feet eleven inches, but also for her beauty and demeanour. She was clad in a dark green garment that had white or grey pinstripes: the sombreness was broken by the multiple ruff pleats of white at the neck and wrists. About her waist there was a small frilled apron indicating her station in life, but somehow I was immediately inspired to think that here was a woman of strong principles and not to be dealt with lightly. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ‘bun’, but her green eyes shone with exuberance, and it was a delight to meet such a lady. She had an even greater height advantage over me, as there were three steps up from the pavement to the front door.

I doffed my hat and introduced myself: I am Dr. John Watson, - and I lost my thought processes for a moment: One of your new tenants … I bungled for words … lodgers. I met with Mr. Oswald earlier today. The cabbie had unloaded my meagre possessions: one suit case and my battered army chest; these were now on the pavement, and the mark of my profession – a medical bag - was still in my left hand.

You had better enter then Dr. Watson – I will have Woodley bring your things …

The chest is rather heavy, I exclaimed, hence I have not as yet settled my fare with the cabbie …

Mrs. Hudson turned and called sharply Woodley!. A page appeared: a youngster of perhaps fourteen or fifteen years. Help the cabbie with the chest to the second floor. Thus it was done, I thanked Woodley and I introduced myself to him, and then I paid and tipped the cabbie, perhaps a little more than I could afford.

I explained to Mrs. Hudson. I would have helped to carry it – the trunk, said I, but I have a gammy leg from a wound that I received in Afghanistan, and I am still somewhat in convalescence from Enteric fever that I succumbed to afterwards in India. It would have been too much for the boy and me to manage to lift the trunk.

But the deed is done, come then Dr. Watson, enter, said Mrs. Hudson, and I will show you around the premises and explain the rules of the house.

I made to ascend the three steps, pulling on Marcus’s lead.

"What is that!" exclaimed Mrs. Hudson apparently noticing the animal for the first time.

This is Marcus, my dog.

I will not have a dog in my house!

But… but… I thought: was everything going amiss already? I found the words to reply, Mr Oswald said …

The glare on Mrs. Hudson’s face diminished, Mr. Oswald has taken a liberty. He should have consulted with me! However he does own the house. She faced Marcus with a look of disdain. "Bring it in, but there is now a new rule of this house: any mess, or damage, that the dog causes is your responsibility Dr. Watson. Neither I nor my staff will clean up any ‘mess’ that it makes: I will inform the staff imminently. Also any damage will have to be paid for!"

Recovering my composure I replied, I understand completely – and ‘it’ is ‘he’ and his name is Marcus.

I entered 221B Baker Street for the second time: my new home. I was determined to heed all that Mrs. Hudson had to say, and tried to assimilate my new conditions: for the examination earlier that day that Holmes and I had had with Mr. Oswald had been somewhat of a whirlwind passing through. I recalled that Holmes must already have had a prior viewing before noon that very day. While at Bart’s discussing accommodation Holmes had said I have my eye on a suite in Baker Street… which would suit us down to the ground.⁴ Holmes had already claimed the bedroom on the first floor, stating that I should have the larger room on the second floor, and that he had need of the store room that was off the dressing room of the bedroom on the first floor to accommodate his ‘professional paraphernalia’. I had not queried this.

The vestibule was twelve feet by six feet by my estimation, the front door opening into the north-west corner. Under the window to the left were two chairs and between them was a small table bearing a salver. I recognised an aspidistra plant in the corner. To the right of the front door was another door bearing a discreet, but well polished, brass plaque that read STAFF:

You should have no reason to enter this door, said Mrs. Hudson noting my gaze, beyond lies everything that keeps this house functioning in a good and orderly manner. Now come down this corridor, and she indicated, it was almost in the centre of the inner side of the vestibule, with the stairs to the left. All of the flooring was parquetry in a rich brown colour with a hint of maroon, and she led the way down this passage past the ascending stair that became panelled below as we went westwards.

Here are your keys, said Mrs. Hudson handing to me two sets, your set, and another set for your friend Mr. Home, it will save me time if you could explain their usage to him.

I gave a polite cough. That is ‘Holmes’ not ‘Home’! Apart from dropping the final ‘s’ from his name, Mrs. Hudson had somehow managed to convey the sound Houme’ – some accent influence of hers no doubt affecting her usage of the sound O.

Ignoring my correction Mrs. Hudson continued, this big key is for the front door, and this old tarnished key is for the door down to the cellar. We were outside of a door no more than six and a half feet tall that was embedded into the panelling beneath the staircase.

In the cellar there is the coal store with a delivery chute from the small yard to the rear of the house – but that will not be of interest to you, I am sure. Down in the cellar there is also the boiler should you require quantities of hot water for a bath. Also you must give forewarning in that event – for water does not heat instantly, so prior notice of the requirement for bath water must be made.

We also keep various provisions in the cellar on the account of its coolness in the regions away from the boiler. I tell you this because amongst those provisions below is a firkin of ale, and several cases of wine – both white and red, but alas the Côte de Beaune Beaujolais is almost all gone. The selection of wines is up to you and your colleague, or you may delegate that responsibility to me. Consumption of the wines will be added to your monthly account: thus I give you a key to the cellar should either of you wish for a late night ‘tipple’. I charge 15% above my purchase price for the wine to recoup the costs of administration, storage, and the serving thereof: but you and Mr. Homes will receive only one account per month. Mr. Oswald does not concern himself with domestic matters: he receives his rental, and I administer this house. Therefore I trust that you and your colleague will be able to manage to keep account of who is drinking, and how much. She paused in thought, and then added, There are also some bottles of whisky and brandy, that your predecessors have left, almost a half a decanter of each in your sitting room. Although the age and quality of their choice may not be to your liking.

After this long speech, I replied:

His name is ‘Holmes’, Sherlock Holmes, that is ‘Homes’ but spelled with an ‘L’. I must admit that you run a truly remarkable establishment here Mrs. Hudson, said I. Then I tried to assimilate all of these facts.

The ‘tradesman’s’ entrance, indicated Mrs. Hudson to the door that ended the passage that had a plain glass casement above it, and next to it the toilet⁵. She added, there is a toilet on each floor, directly above this one here, all equipped with running water, but should you or your friend choose to use bed pans or commodes there will be extra charges to pay. Please avail yourselves of our modern facilities. The water is cold, however provision of hot water is inclusive in your rental, you may set a standing order for hot water for shaving if you wish. I can recommend several good Turkish baths that are nearby; if you choose not to bathe at 221B.

I was amazed! This woman was as efficient, if not more so than any person that I had ever met. I was beginning to wonder that the previously unmentioned list of inclusions, exclusions, and limitations to our rental agreement might be required sooner rather than later.

To the first floor, said Mrs. Hudson, and she led the way back up the passage and turned onto the stair that was carpeted over dark wood. We went upwards, I noticed that the seventh step creaked (later Holmes would often cry upon hearing the said sound: behold a missive has arrived! Perchance the game will be afoot! I hear the tread of a servant on the stair’’). I counted the number of steps because on that particular evening the wound in my leg was twinging: seventeen steps in all, the solid balustrade to my right gave me support, and Marcus quietly followed.

At first, the first floor of 221B Baker Street appeared to be much as the floor below. There was the toilet in the corner, a landing or passage running from west to east, where again in the corner there was another aspidistra, and then the stairs leading to the floor above. Windows that were at the eastern and western end of the passage provided light. In the middle of the passage on the northern side was a door that I already knew led into our new sitting room. Mrs. Hudson pushed the door that opened to the right, and I followed her into the room.

It was a large room. I gazed about, becoming more acquainted with the size: some twenty of more feet by fifteen feet was my estimate, but a wide bay window added space and opened out into Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson remained silent as I perused. Finally I sat down on the settee that could have seated three persons, with Marcus at my feet. The room was more acceptable than I had remembered from only a few hours earlier: a fine room to grow accustomed with and live in.

All of these furnishings belong to Mr. Oswald. Had stated Mrs. Hudson, but if they are not to your liking, then either they can be moved into the attic, or they can be sold as Mr. Oswald directs.

I gazed around again, amazed that Holmes and I could have managed to acquire such a lease. The furnishings were a little sparse: a grand fireplace was almost opposite the entry door, with two very comfortable looking armchairs on either side of the fireplace. I stood up and went to try one of them: very pleasant! Marcus gave a small growl at the bear-skin rug that was between the chairs.

I took stock of our