The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes Stories - Part XV by David Marcum

Author:David Marcum
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sherlock, conan doyle, holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, detective, murder, whodunnit, thriller, England, Britain, English, British
ISBN: 9781787054523
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2019-07-17T00:00:00+00:00

A Skeleton’s Sorry Story

by Jack Grochot

Reminiscing, my friend Sherlock Holmes recounted the times his efforts at solving murders resulted in the hangings of the killers - yet only once in his illustrious career did the guilty party cheat death on the gallows due to a judge’s sympathy for the accused.

Such was the case in mid-summer of 1902 with the demise of Aloysius McMonagal, whose life was brutally wrested from him at the age of twenty-three and whose skeletal remains posed a double mystery to Holmes: What was the identity of the victim, and who bashed in his skull, then buried him in a fallow field on a farm in Surrey?

Here, at length, is how this sordid conundrum unfolded:

We had traveled by train to the village of Guildford in Surrey on the investigation of the case involving the mortal terror of old Abrahams. Holmes wasn’t anticipating another puzzle to present itself. Inspector Gregory of Scotland Yard accompanied us on the journey and introduced us to an up-and-coming deputy constable, Miles Stanley, who was preoccupied with a perplexing case of his own: The matter of the skeleton.

“Mr. Holmes, I have reached nothing but dead ends in my effort to identify the victim,” Stanley complained. “Could you possibly see your way clear to assist me?”

“Perhaps I can, young man,” Holmes informed him. “First let me wrap up what I came here to investigate, which will be today, I am certain, and then we shall sit down tomorrow to discuss what you have learned thus far. Take an early morning train to Charing Cross and then a cab to 221b Baker Street.”

“Oh, Mr. Holmes, it will relieve me of the pressure I am receiving from my superiors,” Stanley confided. “They want me to solve this confounded problem in the worst way, and I can’t bear to tell them that my efforts have resulted in abysmal failure.”

“You haven’t failed yet, not if I can help it,” Holmes assured him, then turned his attention to the more immediate matter. Young Stanley departed, humming a merry tune, convinced that Holmes would come to his rescue.

“A bright lad. He knows his limitations, and he isn’t afraid to humble himself to seek assistance,” Holmes was saying as we drank our second cup of coffee at breakfast the next morning while discussing Stanley’s predicament. Just as we dropped the subject, we heard a hansom pull up to the curb in front of our rooms, followed by a ring of the doorbell.

Our landlady, Mrs. Hudson, answered the bell and climbed the stairs with Stanley to announce his arrival. Holmes had previously told her that he was expecting a visitor and asked her to show him to our flat and not delay him by probing for the reason he was there. Stanley crossed the threshold into the sitting room and gave Mrs. Hudson a polite smile. He appeared older than I recalled from the day before, apparently because his attire was more formal. He was wearing a pin-striped dark blue business suit

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