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

Author:David Marcum
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Stepping Stones School, Undershaw, authentic adventures, Canonical, short story collection, traditional stories, Sherlockian, historical, pastiche, Victorian London, Holmesian, Impressionist Painting, murder, curse, teetotaller, Alexandrian Scroll, Margate, Irish, Sethian, Messiah, Princess Alice, Balloon
ISBN: 9781804240076
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2022-04-29T00:00:00+00:00

The Curse of Hollyhock House

by Geri Schear

In hindsight, 1884 was a year of small cases, hardly worth the telling. Sherlock Holmes was nonetheless kept busy as his reputation continued to grow, both in esteem and in numbers. He was much engaged that year, doing something or other for his brother, though I did not discover this until much later. He was asked to investigate the Fenian affairs, as a number of bombs had disrupted London. His participation was minor, as he himself said, and no mention of his involvement appeared in the press.

It wasn’t until late September that he was brought a case that seemed of particular interest to him.

The fog had been relentless for weeks. There were moments here and there when we thought it had lifted, but soon it descended again. That Wednesday afternoon, a knock on the door below was swiftly followed by Mrs. Hudson announcing that a young lady had come to speak to Mr. Holmes.

“She seems anxious about something,” the good woman said, “though quite composed for all that.”

“Send her up, Mrs. Hudson,” Holmes said. “We are quite at our leisure and a visitor would be welcome.” After the she shut the door, he added to me softly, “Provided she is indeed composed.”

Less than a minute later, Mrs. Hudson returned with Miss Sarah Allis. She was a tall, slender young woman of about twenty years. Her soft golden hair escaped in curls from beneath her black boater hat. Despite that and the black coat and gown she wore, her air of sweetness, and the lack of guile in her cornflower blue eyes, made for a most welcome sight on that dull day.

I immediately hurried to clear a seat for her – Holmes had again decorated the sofa with newspapers – and to ask Mrs. Hudson for some coffee. As we waited, Holmes made the introductions and then leaned forward and took Miss Allis’s hand in his.

“Excuse me,” he said, “but as Doctor Watson will tell you, it is my business. May I first offer my condolences on your recent bereavement?”

“Thank you. I was told you were a very clever man. My friend, Helen Stoner, gave me your name.”

“Ah, the speckled band,” I said, recalling the case from the previous year.

“You have been in an accident,” Holmes said. “If accident we may call it. There are abrasions and bruises on your hands. And I perceive evidence of recent trauma to your throat.”

Despite her obvious distress, our visitor remained composed. “You are correct, Mr. Holmes. It is about those incidents that I have come seeking your guidance.”

“That you may certainly have, and our protection, too, though you do not ask for it.”

“Thank you. It is a relief to have two such fine gentlemen assure my safety.”

“You recently moved to a new location,” Holmes continued. “Somewhere north of the city – perhaps Highgate?”

“Yes. After my dear father’s recent death, my mother and I moved from Knightsbridge to Highgate.”

“There is a unique kind of clay in the Highgate area which I observe on your shoes.

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