Sherlock Holmes: Remarkable Power of Stimulus by Gretchen Altabef

Author:Gretchen Altabef
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mass murderer, Baker Street Irregulars, Oxford, St Hilda's College, steamship, Weather Decks, assassin, Professor Moriarty, zabaglione, Poughkeepsie, Vassar College, crypt, baritsu, suffragist, Fenians, Irene Adler, Women's Suffrage, football boots, French anarchists, kidnapping, women's march
ISBN: 9781787056220
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2020-12-03T00:00:00+00:00

A Statement of Intent

“I could not look upon her perfect clear-cut face, with all the soft freshness of the Downlands in her delicate colouring, without realizing that no young man would cross her path unscathed.”

—Sherlock Holmes, “The Adventure of the Lion’s Mane”

May First Revels took place under grey skies this year; rain threatened all day, the heavens windy, dark and damp. A day with new meaning for us as the Haymarket Affair was also commemorated.

Now the clouds that had skittered in the gusts broke, the driving downpour rattled and splashed our windows. Mrs. Hudson brought a warming dinner up to our table. Miss Rachel back from her school day entered and caught me in a hug which became more of a dance as I lost my balance over her exuberance and we laughed together at the surprise. “Miss Rachel, you are our very own Queen of the May,” I said.

She hung her cap and tweed jacket on her father’s bedroom coatrack and helped Mrs. Hudson at the table.

“Mr. Holmes hasn’t returned, but that shouldn’t stop us, help yourselves, Doctor, Miss Rachel.” She joined us.

As a delightful dinner progressed, presently, we heard the door open and slam against the storm, footsteps running two at a time up the stairs, and a drenched Sherlock Holmes in the hall. Mrs. Hudson bustled about him, “Oh, sir!”

“Mrs. Hudson, it is simply water!” He shook it off his hat and hung it up. “I left my coat dripping down in the entranceway.” He went into his room from the hall door, changed, stepped out of his boots, and robed in his dressing gown and slippers.

“Mr. Holmes, must you wear such disreputable clothes?” She took his wet things down to hang with his coat at the hearth.

Finding Miss Rachel’s jacket caused him to call out, “Rachel!” He joined us, still towelling his hair, dropped the towel on the settee and put his arms around her, she hugged him. “It’s a wonderful night, don’t you think?”

“Papa?”

He looked at me. “I’m famished. Have you eaten?” The two women re-joined the table, the gentleman after.

“Holmes, are you on a case? Please include me if you are.” I said, “I am at your disposal.”

“Not a case, Watson.” He briefly touched his finger to his lips. “Or it was a case once and you helped me out splendidly then.”

“Papa, you’re talking in riddles.”

“Am I?” He smiled briefly and filled his plate.

At the bell, Rachel ran down and Wiggins came up our stairs, touched his cap to us. “Mr. Holmes, the yachtsman is still docked at Cadogan Pier.”

“Wiggins sit down and join us for dinner.”

“When he’s not on his boat, he spends ‘is time at Swan Inn Chelsea, near Albert Bridge.”

“Keep him in sight; he is a suspect in this case.”

When our meal came to an end and the table was cleared, Holmes said, “I’d like you to expand your clandestine investigation. Go inside the pub when he is there and have a meal, take your time. Remember everything you witness. Continue to keep abreast of where he docks his yacht and report back to me tomorrow.

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