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Monthly Archives: August 2014

Animal House…

from Dr J Watson to Sherlock Holmes Esq:

Holmesy
I’ve taken the liberty of summarising your comments on what I’d like to call “The Case of the Bed the was Nailed to the Floor” (unless you can come up with something more suitable). The events of last evening ran as thus: Sherlock Holmes and myself took the afternoon train from Paddington. Our arrival at the inn in late afternoon gave us the opportunity to peruse the grounds of the house before retiring to our room to lay in wait for the signal my colleague had spoken to the young lady about. As we waited for the appointed hour, I am ashamed to say Holmes beat me 21 games to 3 in our “chess tournament” and 14 games to 2 in “pocket billiards” (though I think this latter victory a little unfair, as my companion’s long and slender fingers gave him something of an advantage!)

When the signal came, we hurried outside and across the lawn, almost falling over one of Roylett’s baboon’s (which no doubt confirmed Holmes’ theory). Letting ourselves into Miss Stoner’s room, we ensconced ourselves into positions by which we could watch the proceedings.   I say watch – with little more than our own eyes to counter the darkness with, there was nothing to do but sit and wait, listening to the chimes of the town clock in the distance. At around 3.00am a light flickered near the ventilator above our heads – flickered, and just as quickly went out, but that instant was enough to give Sherlock Holmes the chance to strike the creature with his walking stick and send it slithering back up the bell pull into the adjoining room where the murderer (for that is what he was) Roylett, waited for his victim’s cry.   It was his own cry of pain and terror however, that came to our ears only seconds later, as the snake bit into his evil flesh, ending his vile antics, and indeed, his life.

My medical viewpoint aside, I believe the bounder got his just desserts and I would not expect Holmes to feel the slightest remorse at what he attributed to be his hand in Roylett’s unfortunate death.

Watson

 

 
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Posted by on August 30, 2014 in Detective Fiction

 

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Of Mind and Body…

from Sherlock Holmes Esq to Dr J Watson:

Wonderful, Watson – I look forward to our vigil with great anticipation and enthusiasm – I also have packed a few essentials for our trip – my long-johns are dangling over the pulley as I write – Hudson has brought them up a treat, using her domestic machinations, as, if you recall, they were badly stained after our last expedition. I have spent the afternoon  flexing my mind and body, employing the ancient Oriental Arts of which I am a Master. I feel completely prepared for what is to come.   Looking forward immensely to another round of Pocket Chess. What about the Pocket Billiards?

Till we meet – SH

 
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Posted by on August 29, 2014 in Detective Fiction

 

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Is That a Gun in Your Pocket?

from Dr J Watson to Sherlock Holmes Esq:

Sherl,
I anticipated the need for arms and have spend the afternoon polishing my weapon – it now sparkles so dazzlingly I can see my face in it. I have also packed my long johns in case we find ourselves ensconced in an all-night vigil (I’ll bring along a few items that may help us to while away the hours – I’m sure you’ll recall the fun we had during the Case of the Grand Master Debater- so have included my pocket chess set too).

I will be with you shortly.

Watson.

 
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Posted by on August 25, 2014 in Detective Fiction

 

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Sussex Bound (with gun)…

from Sherlock Holmes Esq.to Dr J Watson:

Watson,
Be ready to depart presently – the old man is aware that we are interesting ourselves in his affairs – and slip your Eley’s No. 2 in to your pocket, John, as this is a case which could  very easily plunge us in to peril.   As you witnessed, Miss Stoner is a woman brought to the edge by the ever-present fear by which she is surrounded daily, thanks to that brute of a man, Roylett. If my suspicions are correct, this will be one of our most dangerous encounters yet, therefore I need you clear-headed and alert – therefore do not dally at Mrs Dipwick’s Establishment before showing up, ready for whatever may be thrown our way – baboons and cheetahs are one thing, Watson – fallen women are a step too far, in the present circumstances.

Your intimate friend and associate, SH.

 
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Posted by on August 22, 2014 in Detective Fiction

 

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Sussex Bound…

from Dr J Watson to Sherlock Holmes Esq:

Holmes
Ah dear chap, I was just ruminating on our last case and how much I enjoyed plunging into the investigative fray. As it happens, my wife is planning a visit to her sister so will be away for a few days.   My own caseload too, is somewhat sparse at the moment so I would relish the opportunity to join you in our fight against crime. I shall pack an overnight bag immediately.

Your faithful friend

Watson

 
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Posted by on August 17, 2014 in Detective Fiction

 

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Adventure Awaits…

from Sherlock Holmes Esq to Dr J Watson:
Watson,
How are you fixed to venture from the Capital for a few days? – I have had a request from a young lady in need of assistance – she resides with her stepfather in the wilds of Surrey  and needs our help regarding concerns over  the death of her twin sister two years previously.

I am aware that your time is not your own these days –  I realise that you are otherwise  detained, being in the throes of physical indulgences with Mrs W – I realise that your weaker nature will, naturally, be diverted by the base urges which you lesser individuals are prone to – if you are able, at all, to give our cases a modicum of attention, I would be cheered and gratified.

Your colleague and friend, Sherlock Holmes.

 
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Posted by on August 9, 2014 in Detective Fiction

 

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Diaries of a Madman…

from Sherlock Holmes Esq to Dr J Watson:
Watson
I can assure you that Douglas is currently in fine form and in fact says you should take things easy and avoid anything which could cause the flashbacks to occur from our London Bridge episode. He has assured me that the intermittent juddering and catatonic trances will pass…he is not quite so confident that the sudden high-pitched keening and low sobbing episodes will subside altogether, but I on the other hand feel strongly that you will be back to the Watson I respect and admire before another Season finds us cogitating over another Case – you have done it before, and will do it again, as  our many spine-chilling and blood-curdling forays  to the Dark Side have demonstrated.

Unfortunately, Douglas is not quite as sanguine where Gere’s prognosis is concerned – the fellow seems to be causing him no end of worry and consternation; I have not seen young Michael so flustered since he was being pursued by that awful woman with the Rabbit Complex…you recall how he turned up at 221B many a night, with several flasks of strong spirits and a paper poke of fried potatoes, rambling incoherently and interminably about The Woman…and no, it was Not That Woman, Watson…before you start…Hudson was worn ragged fetching and carrying as his next maudlin tale demanded a concomitant Pasty or Cream Horn to aid its execution…Therefore we Must ensure this state of affairs never happens again – I could not cope with being kept awake by his thunderous and bellowing snores, like an old bull elephant trumpeting to its mate at the other end of the jungle.

As to ‘a spell in the asylum’ that particular action has already been taken with reference to our actor friend: I have been told that Gere is disturbing the other inmates with his constant Prophecies and high-pitched screeching, rocking in his straitjacket, sending darting glances up at the barred windows, talking to unseen entities and snacking on any passing insect he can find…he has managed to recruit certain of the more damaged inmates in to retrieving said creatures, and feeding them to him, much to the amusement of these poor, sorry casualties of Society’s Pressures and Individual  Blows; we do not appreciate our good Fortune enough at times, I fear, and need episodes like this to remind us of the things that really matter.

Anyway, Watson, I hear Mrs Hudson’s dulcet tones…reminding me of some inconsequential matter…therefore I bid you Good Day, and trust you are recovering apace.

Your friend SH.

PS. One of Gere’s more outrageous Prophecies is that London Bridge is to be sold to the Americas…can you believe it?! and that one day people will flock to see him in what he termed “Movie Theatres”…he Is a Hopeless Case, indeed…

 
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Posted by on August 6, 2014 in Detective Fiction

 

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Wilde Nights…

from Dr J Watson to Sherlock Holmes Esq:

Holmes
Perhaps it is my imagination, but I suspect you may be thinking that this “doctor” or indeed some other person who has been masquerading as a doctor, may in fact be me. I am a little hurt that you could believe I would withhold such information from you as we have always, at least on my part, been on honest terms with one another. The explanation for this account of Wilde’s in any case is quite obvious, and I’m rather surprised you didn’t cotton on to it straight away: Wilde is purported to be writing a book based on his experiences of traversing the various hostelries, brothels and gin-houses of certain areas of Colorado during his recent American tours, which I believe is being published under the title of: Yank My Bone Ye Whiskey-Drinking Miners. I suspect Wilde and that ill-tempered Knob-jockey Bosie, were simply entertaining themselves at your expense, knowing that you would jump to conclusions.

By the way Holmes, I do hope you have been able to separate yourself from Master Douglas and that ‘psychic’ thespian Gere? The pair of them did seem rather affected by our recent adventures – perhaps a spell in The Asylum would be beneficial? If you require me to sign the necessary papers, let me know and I’ll be along with my white coat and a large needle.

W

 
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Posted by on August 4, 2014 in Detective Fiction

 

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Doctor at Largesse…

from Sherlock Holmes Esq to Dr J Watson:

Watson, your recent missive to myself (which alas I have mislaid), mentions your being present at The Judge and Wig-Wearer – this information causes me some misgiving – I was enthusiastically assured by Master Wilde last evening that himself and Bosie had been trawling the lowest dives and gin-houses imaginable several evenings ago, and had settled in for a space of time in that particular establishment.  

Loud and long did they hoot with raucous laughter, entertaining me with tales of “the doctor” they had fallen in with, and the antics he performed with their good selves, several Lascars, Dwarves and Boys of the Night.   You Would tell me, John, if you knew the identity of said Doctor? I am well aware of the rapscallions and deviants who frequent said den of iniquity… you know you can confide in myself, I hope, and I am a very understanding fellow, having my own particular habits…

Yours, S.

 
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Posted by on August 2, 2014 in Detective Fiction

 

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