by David Marcum
Clearly we have two different cases, each dependent upon a second stain! Even more extraordinary is that neither of them is the investigation eventually chronicled in The Return of Sherlock Holmes.
Having heard the outcome of each speaker’s scholarly speculation - or inventive fiction - or outrageous parody - our listeners voted for the case that best merited actual publication. My preference was firmly for the case of the two Coptic Patriarchs, advocated by the Revd. Simon Smyth, who is himself a priest of the Coptic Orthodox Church. It was exciting to learn that there actually were two Coptic Patriarchs at the time, and their followers were not on friendly terms. (Imagine those tense years in Western Europe when there were rival Popes). However, the winner by several lengths was the Dundas Separation Case, of which Holmes said, “as it happens, I was engaged in clearing up some small points in connection with it. The husband was a teetotaller, there was no other woman, and the conduct complained of was that he had drifted into the habit of winding up every meal by taking out his false teeth and hurling them at his wife....” According to Peter Horrocks, who claimed that an account of this investigation, more than any of the others, deserved to be published, the “separation” was not between husband and wife, but between Mr. Dundas and his dentures!
Fortunately - perhaps - you won’t find anything of the sort in this book. David Marcum has ensured that the contributions are firmly in the tradition established by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and followed to their great credit by Adrian Conan Doyle and John Dickson Carr, William E. Dudley, Martin Edwards, M.J. Elliott, James C. Iraldi, Barrie Roberts, Denis O. Smith, Edgar W. Smith, June Thomson, Alan Wilson - and others who have written first-rate accounts of exploits that were merely hinted at by Dr. Watson.[3]
Enjoy!
Roger Johnson
BSI, ASH
July, 2018
1In 2002, speaking of the evidence, or lack of evidence, linking the Iraqi government to the supply of weapons to terrorist groups, Donald Rumsfeld used the expressions “known knowns”, “known unknowns”, and “unknown unknowns”. This is not meaningless jargon: The terms are precise and entirely relevant.
2At least, that’s how it runs in the standard British text. The American text follows The Strand Magazine in classing “The Musgrave Ritual” as a case in which Holmes failed to discover the truth. Which is patently untrue.
3I’ll also recommend the adventures of Solar Pons, “The Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street”, created by August Derleth and active between the wars. His cases included “The Adventure of Ricoletti of the Club Foot”, “The Adventure of the Remarkable Worm”, “The Adventure of the Grice-Paterson Curse”, “The Adventure of the Trained Cormorant”, and “The Adventure of the Aluminium Crutch”. His authorised chronicler is now the amazingly industrious David Marcum.
An Ongoing Legacy for Sherlock Holmes
by Steve Emecz
Undershaw, Circa 1900
It is three years since the first volumes of this series, and it’s wonderful that we’ve reached Volumes XI and XII. We have raised over $30,000 for Stepping Stones School - the majority of which from the generous donation of the royalties from all the authors, but also from some interesting licensing deals in Japan and India. With this money, the school has been able to fund projects that would be very difficult to organise otherwise - especially those to preserve the legacy of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle at Undershaw.
There are now over two-hundred-and-fifty stories and well over a hundred authors taking part. We have new writers, unknown authors, established names, and even a few New York Times bestselling authors (like Lee Child) taking part. With more stories on the way under the careful eye of our wonderful editor David Marcum, the collection goes from strength to strength.
The critics agree that not only is it the largest, but The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes Stories is the highest quality collection of new Holmes stories ever compiled. The last five volumes have all had glowing reviews from Publishers Weekly - Here are a few sample quotes:
“The traditional pastiche is alive and well, as shown by the 35 Sherlock Holmes stories in Marcum’s excellent sixth all-original anthology”
“This is a must-have for all Sherlockians.”
“Marcum continues to impress with the quality of his selections, many from little-known authors, in his seventh anthology of traditional pastiches”
“Sherlockians eager for faithful-to-the-canon plots and characters will be delighted.”
“The imagination of the contributors in coming up with variations on the volume’s theme is matched by their ingenious resolutions.”
“Sherlockians will rejoice that more volumes are on the way.”
MX Publishing is a social enterprise - all the staff, including me, are volunteers with day jobs. In addition to Stepping Stones School, our main program that we support is the Happy Life Children’s Home in Kenya. My wife Sharon and I have spent the last five Christmases at the baby rescue centre in Nairobi. We have written a book called The Happy Life Story which explains how this incredible project has saved the lives of over five-hundred abandoned babies in its first fifteen years, with many being adopted. During the time that we have been involved, we’ve seen the project expand to include a school and now an incredible hospital which is saving lives every week.
Our support of both of these projects is possible through the publishing of Sherlock Holmes books, which we have now been doing for a decade. Our very first book was called Eliminate The Impossible, and we now have over three-hundred titles in print.
You can find out more information about the Stepping Stones School at www.steppingstones.org.uk, and Happy Life at www.happylifechildrenshomes.com. You can obtain more books from MX, both fiction and non-fiction, at www.sherlockholmesbooks.com. If you would like to become involved with these projects or help out in any way, please reach out to me via LinkedIn.
Steve Emecz
July, 2018
Twitter: @steveemecz
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/emecz/
The Doyle Room at Stepping Stones, Undershaw
Partially funded through royalties from The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes Stories
A Word from the Head Teacher of Stepping Stones
by Melissa Grigsby
Undershaw, September 9, 2016
Grand Opening of the Stepping Stones School
(Photograph courtesy of Roger Johnson)
As Stepping Stones School sails into its third year at Undershaw, we reflect on the unfinished and unknown tales that Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never drew to a close or was unable to complete.
One such story was that of “The Giant Rat of Sumatra”, a story that distorted one’s imagination beyond the concepts of the days he sat to unfold and write his stories. Within his writings, Doyle has Sherlock Holmes declare, as an aside, to Dr. Watson:
“Matilda Briggs was not the name of a young woman, Watson... It was a ship which is associated with the giant rat of Sumatra, a story for which the world is not yet prepared.”
The young people that have their educational journey hosted under the roof of Undershaw can at times be seen and labelled as the unknown, special, and - in our eyes - gifted with exotic rareness. People from the outside can be scared and unsure as they perceive that these young people do not fit the social norms of society. However, within the walls of Undershaw and under Doyle’s watch, and with his wishes in mind, these young people participate in layered therapeutic interventions and differentiated education with the same outcomes as many young people of their age.
Like Matilda Briggs, they are the vessels of social mobility and changed mindset, preparing the world for the day that they dock and take their place in society.
Thank you for all your support and companionship on this voyage with the young people of Stepping Ston
es School.
Melissa Grigsby
Executive Head Teacher, Stepping Stones, Undershaw
July, 2018
Sherlock Holmes (1854–1957) was born in Yorkshire, England, on 6 January, 1854. In the mid-1870’s, he moved to 24 Montague Street, London, where he established himself as the world’s first Consulting Detective. After meeting Dr. John H. Watson in early 1881, he and Watson moved to rooms at 221b Baker Street, where his reputation as the world’s greatest detective grew for several decades. He was presumed to have died battling noted criminal Professor James Moriarty on 4 May, 1891, but he returned to London on 5 April, 1894, resuming his consulting practice in Baker Street. Retiring to the Sussex coast near Beachy Head in October 1903, he continued to be associated in various private and government investigations while giving the impression of being a reclusive apiarist. He was very involved in the events encompassing World War I, and to a lesser degree those of World War II. He passed away peacefully upon the cliffs above his Sussex home on his 103rd birthday, 6 January, 1957.
Dr. John Hamish Watson (1852–1929) was born in Stranraer, Scotland on 7 August, 1852. In 1878, he took his Doctor of Medicine Degree from the University of London, and later joined the army as a surgeon. Wounded at the Battle of Maiwand in Afghanistan (27 July, 1880), he returned to London late that same year. On New Year’s Day, 1881, he was introduced to Sherlock Holmes in the chemical laboratory at Barts. Agreeing to share rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, Watson became invaluable to Holmes’s consulting detective practice. Watson was married and widowed three times, and from the late 1880’s onward, in addition to his participation in Holmes’s investigations and his medical practice, he chronicled Holmes’s adventures, with the assistance of his literary agent, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, in a series of popular narratives, most of which were first published in The Strand magazine. Watson’s later years were spent preparing a vast number of his notes of Holmes’s cases for future publication. Following a final important investigation with Holmes, Watson contracted pneumonia and passed away on 24 July, 1929.
Photos of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John H. Watson courtesy of Roger Johnson
Unrecorded Holmes Cases (A Sonnet)
by Arlene Mantin Levy and Mark Levy
The master Sherlock Holmes found many clues,
John Watson wrote them up and made them great;
His cases ranged from opal rings and shoes
And stains and smoke, to those of heavy weight;
But really those of most intrigue to us
Are unrecorded tales of quirky guys,
Like Ricoletti with his club foot plus
Abominable wife, or Upwood’s lies;
Persano had a matchbox and big worm,
James Phillimore’s umbrella disappeared;
A rat (Sumatran giant) took its turn
As did Vittoria, circus belle with beard;
So these and more add fun to Canon lore
We wish Doc Watson would have written more.
The Most Repellent Man
by Jayantika Ganguly
My visits to Baker Street were rather limited in the months following my marriage, and I didn’t realise how much I had missed the company of my friend, Mr Sherlock Holmes, until one day when my annoyed wife all but pushed me out of our marital house with strict instructions to visit him.
“But Mary-” I protested.
She sighed, her beautiful face flushed. “John, darling,” she said softly, in a voice I could never refuse. “I do believe that you owe Mr. Holmes a visit. Isn’t he your dearest friend?”
“Yes, but-”
“And wouldn’t it be preferable for you to accompany him on one of his cases, rather than investigating the mystery of the putrefying potato in our kitchen?” she continued as if I had not spoken.
“Yes, but-”
“You miss him, do you not?” she asked.
I couldn’t deny that. Holmes and I had shared good times, and it was thanks to one of those adventures that I had met my wife. I smiled slightly as a wave of affection swept through my heart. My beloved Mary was perhaps the most understanding woman on earth.
She stepped forward and kissed my cheek. “Have yourself an adventure, my dear husband,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “I shall wait for you to come home and regale me with your escapades.”
And thus I found myself on the doorstep of 221b Baker Street once again, brimming with excitement. I chatted pleasantly with Mrs. Hudson for a few minutes. She seemed quite pleased to see me, and confessed that she would be relieved if I waited upstairs with the client she had just shown in, since Holmes had not yet returned, and the man’s repugnant appearance had frightened her.
Curious, for the landlady was quite accustomed to bizarre and unusual figures thanks to her eccentric tenant, I made my way upstairs and entered the rooms in which I had recently resided. A middle-aged man sat quietly on one of the chairs, reading a thick book. He looked up as I entered and smiled slightly.
It was only my military training that allowed me to maintain a straight face. The man was just so... wrong. It is not that he was hideous or disfigured. His physical features, examined individually, were ordinary enough. However, there was something... not quite right... in the assembly. The overall impression was repugnant, as though the parts were arranged incorrectly - but there was no specific feature to isolate as incompatible.
“You must be Dr. Watson,” the man said, standing up and extending a hand.
Even his voice was wrong, I thought to myself. I shook hands with him.
“You are the third man I have known not to initially recoil at my appearance,” he said softly. To my horror, his eyes brimmed with tears. He pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his pockets and dabbed delicately at his eyes. The image was comical, but I was too astonished to react.
“My apologies,” he wept. “No one other than Mr. Holmes and Albert, my son, has shown me such mercy at first sight. I have friends and acquaintances, of course, who have become used to my appearance, but everyone is disgusted when they see me for the first time. I cannot blame them, for my appearance is repellant to myself as well. I keep no mirrors or shiny surfaces that might reflect my abhorrent image.”
What a pitiful man, I thought. I wondered if this was the philanthropist of whom Holmes had spoken at some point. I could only stare in shock as the man sobbed his heart out.
“Er... may I pour you a brandy to calm your nerves?” I enquired gently, afraid to upset him further.
“Thank you, Dr. Watson. You are indeed as kind as Mr. Holmes says,” he said, hiccoughing. At least his tears had stopped. “I do not touch alcohol, though.” He wiped his face and returned the now-soiled handkerchief to his pocket. “My apologies, again. I haven’t introduced myself. My name is Xavier Brown.”
“Are you a philanthropist?” I asked curiously.
His eyes widened. “Has Mr. Holmes spoken of me?”
“If you are the one that spent a quarter-of-a-million on the London poor, then yes.”
Brown smiled, his face at once child-like and grotesque. I watched, fascinated. The man’s repellant appearance was a mystery worthy of Holmes, I thought unkindly, and chastised myself for such uncharitable thoughts.
“I owe more to Mr. Holmes than I can ever thank him for,” Brown said quietly. “Has he told you how we met?”
I shook my head.
“He really is rather modest,” Brown muttered. “Though it has been quite a few years now.”
Surprised, I asked, “Have you known Holmes for long?”
Brown nodded. “A young acquaintance of mine told me about him. Victor Trevor went to college with Mr. Holmes, you see. He moved to India a long time ago, and I was visiting some relatives there when I ran into him. Lovely country. Terribly hot, though. Have you been to India, Dr
. Watson?”
I couldn’t help my bitter smile. “Only as far as Bombay, before my military service took me elsewhere. I’m afraid that I don’t remember much.”
Brown was immediately contrite. “My apologies,” he mumbled. “That was a very insensitive question. You mentioned your unfortunate injury in A Study in Scarlet-you write beautifully, I must say, and you depict Mr. Holmes’s talents wonderfully. He is fortunate to have such a wonderful biographer! I hope you will continue to write about your adventures for a long time, Doctor.”
I could not remain unaffected in face of his child-like glee. I thanked him, a little embarrassed.
“Do continue your story,” I requested. “Holmes is rarely forthcoming.”
Brown laughed. “You could say that. As I said, I first heard of Mr. Holmes in India, and I remembered Victor’s words when I found myself in trouble here several years later. You see, I had found a young half-English boy in India who had been recently orphaned. His father had been a soldier, and his mother an Indian lady. His mother’s family had disinherited her when she eloped with an English soldier, and she passed away soon after giving birth to the child. His father had taken to alcohol and gambling, and the boy had led a troubled life. The father died when the boy was young, leaving behind a huge gambling debt and no assets to cover it. The holders of the debt were determined to kill the boy in order to make an example. I really don’t understand why our countrymen turn so savage in our colonies.
