Gerard Kelly - Sherlock Holmes: The Outstanding Mysteries

GERARD KELLY

JAICO PUBLISHING HOUSE

Ahmedabad Bangalore Bhopal Bhubaneswar Chennai
Delhi Hyderabad Kolkata Lucknow Mumbai

Published by Jaico Publishing House
A-2 Jash Chambers, 7-A Sir Phirozshah Mehta Road
Fort, Mumbai - 400 001
www.jaicobooks.com

Gerard Kelly
Cover Photograph Bianca van der Werf/Trevillion Images

Published in arrangement with
MX Publishing Ltd
335 Princess Park Manor
London, N11 3GX

SHERLOCK HOLMES
THE OUTSTANDING MYSTERIES
ISBN 978-81-8495-588-0

First Jaico Impression: 2014

No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized 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 publishers.

These stories are dedicated to the two women in my life. My wife Marlene, for her endless forbearance and countless cups of coffee, and my daughter, Antonia, for her encouragement, typing, proof-reading etc. My thanks are due also to friends and colleagues whose experiences have suggested ideas for some of the plots and for their assistance with my research. These friends now appear as characters within the stories themselves.

G. Kelly

A SLAYING IN SUBURBIA

There have been times, albeit few in number, when my friendship with Sherlock Holmes has been sorely tested, and just such an occasion took place in July of this year. For weeks he had been alternating between feverish activity and despondency bordering on melancholia.

If he was not frenetically searching his extensive files or experimenting with some evil-smelling chemicals, then as like as not he would be slouched in his chair, in dressing gown and slippers, staring vacantly into space.

Sometimes he would not speak a word all day, then other times he would berate me for having misplaced some letter or card, whether or not the blame was mine. Once I found him slumped unconscious on the floor of his bedroom, after going for three days and nights without sleep. Animated, Im sure, by that accursed cocaine. Many were the times that I considered destroying his supply and syringe, but I knew that he would soon acquire more and, to be truthful, I blanched at the prospect of the rage such an act would precipitate.

I was certain that the underlying cause for his present state of mind lay in the singular lack of stimulating cases to challenge him.

Consequently it was with some relief and a fervent wish that I admitted Mr Mark Lowe to see Holmes one morning. He had made his appointment earlier in the week, and I prayed that his problem would engage and intrigue my morose companion.

Holmes was barely civil to our visitor and sat back in his chair staring at the ceiling. I invited Lowe to sit down and tell us his story.

He was a tall presentable young man with fair hair and a pale complexion. He sported a neatly trimmed goatee beard and was quietly spoken.

His navy blue pinstriped suit was well tailored, and he carried a brown leather attach case.

When he was seated he said, My employer, Sir Lawrence Brinkley, recommended you to me, Mr Holmes. The name is familiar to you?

Holmes nodded almost imperceptibly and replied, Faversham and Brinkley, solicitors, of Wardour Street.

Thats right. I am a junior partner there and Sir Lawrence speaks very highly of you.

Holmes nodded again and the young solicitor continued, I am tasked with defending a man accused of murder and, whilst I firmly believe him to be innocent, I am afraid that without assistance I am not going to be able to prove it.

Holmes turned to look at Lowe and asked, This is your first murder trial?

Yes, Mr Holmes. You have probably not heard about it for it received scant coverage in the newspapers. On the face of it, it seems a parochial enough affair between disputatious neighbours, which escalated into murder, however; I remain unconvinced.

Holmes responded, 'You are right, the case is not familiar to me. Pray fill in the details.

Lowe recounted, On June 2nd my client, Mr Arthur Dunn, was arrested and charged with the murder of one Cedric Tomkins, a close neighbour. Mr Tomkins was shot through the head by a .22 calibre rifle, fired from the vicinity of Dunns house.

Holmes asked, What was the nature of the dispute?

Lowe sighed and replied, Of all things it centred on a lurcher dog by the name of Bess.

Holmes raised an eyebrow, and I rejoiced that the case seemed to be arousing some interest in him.

Lowe continued, It transpires that for some time Tomkins dog Bess had been fouling in Mr Dunns garden. The two properties back on to each other. There had been heated exchanges between the two men and when one night some of Mr Dunns chickens were killed, he blamed Bess. Tomkins insisted that a fox was the culprit, but my client was not convinced and was heard threatening to shoot the dog.

Your client owns a .22 calibre rifle?

Lowe nodded. Yes, Mr Holmes, he does.

Who is in charge of the case?

Inspector Gregson.

Holmes sighed, Ah yes. The patient, plodding Tobias Gregson. As good as you will get at Scotland Yard, but still somewhat lacking. This is poor fare indeed, but as it is the only dish on the menu I suppose it will have to suffice. Rising from his chair he continued, 'Perhaps we might see your client before consulting Inspector Gregson?

Lowe jumped up immediately, saying, Splendid! I had hoped you would say as much.

Holmes asked, 'We may use the carriage that awaits you?

Lowe looked surprised. 'How did you know that I had retained a cab?

Holmes replied, 'Not only am I aware that you have retained a cab, I even know which cab. The driver is Albert Gough and his dappled mare is called Petunia.

Ah! So you saw me arrive from the window?

Holmes shook his head. As Dr Watson will verify, I have not moved from my chair for over an hour.

I confirmed his statement and Lowe looked puzzled until Holmes explained, I know most of the cabmen who ply Baker Street and Albert Gough suffers from bronchitis. In my mental filing cabinet he is "Gough with the cough". Listen, you can hear him now. Also his mare, Petunia, is a restless creature that paws the ground impatiently. This also you will discern, if your ears are sharp. Holmes was right, for we could faintly hear the repeated scrape of Petunias hoof on the cobblestones.

Holmes and I donned our coats and hats and soon we were all seated behind Petunia heading towards Wormwood Scrubs Prison, where Dunn was being held on remand.

Presently we found ourselves sitting across from the accused, who was guarded by two warders. The introductions having been made, Holmes said, Mr Lowe here is convinced of your innocence and has enlisted my aid in proving it. Is he correct in his belief?

Dunn, a fellow about my own age and build, looked haggard. His thin grey hair was dishevelled, he had unshaven stubble on his chin and there were dark circles under his eyes. In addition his hands trembled visibly.