The Last Notes From the Dispatch Box of John H Watson, MD

by Hugh Ashton

  As we passed the small copse that stood between us and the house, I called Holmes’ attention to the trap, with Mathews on the box, drawing up outside the front door. Thanking me for the notice, he silently withdrew a small pair of opera-glasses from his pocket, and proceeded to observe the three figures emerging from the front door of the house, who entered the trap,which then set off down the drive.

  “The Misses Devereux, and their mother, if I am not mistaken,” he observed. He passed the glasses to me, and I discerned our visitor of the other day, together with another young woman who could only be her sister, if facial resemblance was to be my guide, and an older woman. This last was dressed in the height of fashion, in a style which, to my eyes, was more suited to a young woman of her daughters’ age than to a mature matron. I remarked as much to Holmes, and with a faint smile, he repeated a saying about mutton and lamb, which I will not trouble myself to repeat here.

  We set off on our return journey to the inn, Holmes seemingly unconcerned about the ghastly scene that we had both witnessed in the ice-house, and discoursing lightly about the joys of bee-keeping, a study for which he expressed a predilection, should he ever find time for such relaxation.

  “ And what,” he asked me, as we sat down to a cup of very welcome tea in the parlour of the inn, “ do you make of Miss Scythorpe ? ”

  “ She is no beauty,” I answered him.

  Holmes smiled.  “ I was not referring to her outward form, though you are correct to mention it, in that it may have some bearing on the case.”

  “ She is obviously well acquainted with the Devereux family,” I said.

  “ Very true.  Very true indeed,” he repeated almost dreamily.  “ What do you make of her mention of the missing brother ? ”

  “ He is obviously the black sheep of the family.  No doubt he was packed off to Australia or some such location, after the usual trouble involving a servant girl or some such.”

  “ It is usually the girl who is sent away in these cases,” Holmes reminded me.

  “ Maybe he was caught cheating at cards ? ” I suggested.

  “ No doubt it is something of that type,” agreed Holmes.  “ And what of Miss Scythorpe ? ” he asked again.

  “ She seemed to me to have a good head on her shoulders, as you said to her.  She obviously has little regard for Soames.”

  “ Other than for his good looks, for which the poor girl obviously envies him, having few of her own.  Yes, you are right, she despises him.  It is Mathews who interests me more.  Why should a mere valet be taken into his master’s confidence in such matters ?  Especially since he seems willing to allow the matter to be known for a financial consideration.”

  “ Do you attach any importance to the fact that he is not here at the King’s Arms on Friday evenings ? ”

  “ Of course.  We know he is no foe of the demon alcohol, and yet he spends his Friday nights away from the place where he most reasonably might be expected to be.  You do not consider that to be strange ? ”

  “ Maybe he uses another inn ? ” I suggested, but even to my ear, my words sounded a little unconvincing.

  “ At any event, I will attempt to engage him in conversation, should he enter this inn.”

  We enjoyed a hearty dinner, and settled down in the private bar of the inn, from which it was possible to keep an eye on the comings and goings in the public bar.  At about eight o’clock, Sherlock Holmes sat up.  “ He has just entered,” he announced.  “ Will you join me in a pint of beer in the public bar ? ”

  I had to admire Holmes’ insouciance as he strolled into the public bar, seemingly oblivious of the effect that he produced among the workmen and labourers drinking there.  He made his way to Mathews, who was awaiting his turn to be served, and clapped his hand on the man’s shoulder.  “ I know you, don’t I ?  You took on the Tipton Smasher and knocked him out inside the second round with a perfect right cross.  You fought under the name of the Ludlow Lad, as I recall.” Holmes’ voice had taken on accents other than his usual, reminding me a little of a West Country man.

  Mathews looked startled and not a little suspicious.  “ How do you come to know all that ?  You follow the Fancy, do you ? ”

  Holmes laughed easily.  “ I saw you fight in London once, didn’t I ?  I never forget a man who makes me money, and the money I laid on you that day returned to me many times over.  I am, as you have so astutely observed, a student of the Fancy.  Allow me to repay you.  Three glasses of your finest, landlord,” he called out.

  He received the drinks, and Mathews took a table with us in the corner.

  “ Your health, sir,” said Mathews, raising his glass, “ and yours, sir,” to me.  “ Now, what can I be doing for you ? ”

  “ Why, nothing,” said Holmes airily.  “ I was simply repaying the favour that you did for me.”

  “ That was ten years or more back, begging your pardon.  No-one remembers that sort of favour for that long.  Now stop your codding and tell me what you want done for you.”

  Holmes appeared to be embarrassed.  “ It’s a matter of a woman… ” he began hesitantly.

  “ Ain’t it always ? ” the other roared with laughter.  “ They’re nothing but trouble, Mr.  …? ”

  “ Smith,” replied Holmes blandly.  “ And my friend and associate, Mr.  Jones,” indicating me.

  The other’s eyes gleamed with a roguish smile.  “ Very well, Mr.  ‘Smith’,” he replied, with an emphasis that showed that our aliases held little credibility in his eyes.  “ How do you think I can help you ? ”

  “ I wrote some letters which I now regret having written,” Holmes told him.  “ The woman in question, to whom I wrote them, still holds them, and refuses to return them to me.”

  “ Unless you pay up ? ” asked Mathews brusquely.  Holmes nodded.  “ Blackmail, eh ?  You want the letters back ?  Can’t say I blame you there.  We’ve all done things in our time that we’re sorry for later, haven’t we ?  How much does she want for them ? ”

  “ Two thousand pounds,” replied Holmes, quietly.

  Mathews let out a low whistle, and his jaw dropped.  “ That’s a lot of money, Mr.  ‘Smith’.  They must be some letters, to be worth that much to you.”

  “ As you have guessed, I have not given you my real name,” said Holmes.  “ There would be complications in the nation’s politics, were the mere existence of these letters to become public knowledge, let alone their contents.”

  “ And you want them back ? ” Again Holmes nodded.  “ Why do you think I’m the one who can get them back ? ”

  “ Maybe not you personally, Mr.  Mathews, but I was under the impression that you might have friends who were in a position to assist me.  In your days as the Ludlow Lad, you were acquainted with a certain Bill Lewis, were you not ? ”

  The other’s face turned pale, and he stared at Holmes.  “ Now how in the name of ____ would you know that ? ”

  “ It is my business to know such things,” replied Holmes, calmly.

  “ Bill’s dead, you know.  He wore the broad arrow for seven years in Dartmoor, and it broke him, it did.  He came out and died within the six months.”

  “ Dear me, I am sorry to hear that,” said Holmes calmly.  “ But I am sure you have other friends in the same profession ?  Friends who possess a certain skill in acquiring objects from others’ houses ? ”

  “ D___ you, Mr.  ‘Smith’ !  What if I do ? ”

  “ Sit down and listen to me.” Holmes laid a calming hand on the other’s sleeve, and spoke in a voice of command.  “ I am prepared to offer a large sum of money to the man who brings me those letters.”

  “ Not two thousand ? ”

  “ Of course I am not prepared to
pay two thousand.  Seven hundred.”

  “ Twelve hundred.”

  The bargaining went on for a few minutes, and eventually closed at one thousand pounds.

  “ Where are they ? ” asked Mathews.

  “ In London.  If you give me your address, I will send you the details by letter.  You can read, I take it ? ”

  “ Of course I can read, but I’d sooner not have letters coming to me where I am right now, if you don’t mind.  If you can address them to a lady I know who lives here in the town, that will do me well.” To my astonishment, he then proceeded to give the name and address of MissScythorpe.  I am sure that my consternation was visible, but since Mathews was not looking in my direction, it went unnoticed by him.  For his part, Holmes appeared to show no surprise at this knowledge, but gravely inscribed the name in his notebook.

  “ Very well, Mr.  Mathews.  You may expect a letter from me within the week, which will contain the details of our little business, and the methods by which you may contact me.”

  “ And the money ? ” asked Mathews, truculently.

  “ Cash on delivery, my dear fellow,” replied Holmes, with a nonchalant air.  “ But if you insist on something in advance — ”

  “ I b_____ well do,” retorted the other.

  “ Here are ten pounds on account,” Holmes told him, opening his pocket-book and handing over two banknotes.

  Mathews grumbled, but accepted the money, after receiving Holmes’ promise that more would be forthcoming with the letter that would arrive the next week.

  “ A pleasure to have made your acquaintance, Mr.  Mathews,” said Holmes, swallowing the last of his beer.  “ Come, Jones,” turning to me, “ we must make our way to the station if we are to catch the train to Town.”

  I obediently followed Holmes out of the inn, and started walking in the direction of the station.

  “ I am assuming that you do not wish Mathews to know that we are staying at the inn, and thereby discovering our identities from the landlord,” I ventured.

  “ Precisely, Watson.  You are coming on nicely.  I fear we will have to take the train in the direction of Town.  Mathews is following us.  He is not as stealthy in his movements as he believes he is.” He chuckled in the darkness.

  At the station, we bought two first-class tickets to the next station along the line to London.  “ Let us hope that he does not enquire our destination of the clerk,” said Holmes, as we boarded the train.  “ I fear we will have to walk back, but it is a fine night with a good moon, and a matter of a mere five miles or so.”

  “ With pleasure,” I replied.  The smoky air of the inn had given me a headache, and I was anxious to have a chance to dispel it.  “ What do you make of our new friend’s acquaintance with Miss Scythorpe ? ” I asked.

  “ I confess I was surprised by that news.  However, on reflection, I can see several possibilities connected with this.”

  “ I see none,” I retorted.

  “ I see none clearly,” admitted Holmes, “ and it would therefore be premature for me to reveal them at this stage.”

  We reached the station where we alighted, and commenced our walk back to the inn.  Our path took us past the Vicarage, and to my surprise, despite the lateness of the hour, I beheld a shadowy figure, whom I recognised as Mathews, leaving the house by the back door.

  Holmes likewise remarked the fact, and laughed in that peculiar almost noiseless fashion that I had come to know so well.  “ He is wasting no time,” he said, “ in informing his confederate of the arrangements that he and I have made.”

  “ Are you not concerned that she will inform him of our true identities ? ” I asked.

  “ You make a fair point,” admitted Holmes, “ but I do not consider that she will do so.  Why should she associate a Mr.  Smith who is returning to London tonight with Sherlock Holmes, who is staying at the King’s Arms ? ”

  I saw the justice of this remark, and refrained from further comment on the matter.

  The next morning, Holmes announced that we were going to pay a call on Soames.  “ You need not fear that Mathews will see us and recognise his companions of last night,” he told me, anticipating and forestalling my objections.  “ I am sending a message by one of the village urchins, informing him that his presence is urgently required in the next town.  I am confident, by the way, that Soames will be at home.  Today is Friday, and we were told that he has almost invariably made his return from town on that day of the week.” He showed me the message he had written, formed in a crude unlettered hand, and signed merely with a “ J”, inviting Mathews to discuss “ a mater of grate importans” at the inn in the next town.

  “ It could be from James or John,” said I.

  “ Or Jack or Jonathan or Joshua,” added Holmes with a smile.  “ Yes, I am sure that he will be able to put two and two together and thereby make three.”

  At that moment, the boy to whom Homes had referred earlier entered the room, and Holmes presented the letter to him, with strict instructions not to reveal anything to Mathews regarding the identity of the sender.  We watched through the window as the lad hurried out of sight, and made his way to the house.  “ I expect him to pass this way on his path to the station in under thirty minutes’ time,” said Holmes, and applied himself to his pipe.

  As prophesied, Mathews passed the window within twenty minutes of the lad’s departure, hurrying towards the station, and swathed in a heavy muffler that partly covered his face.

  “ Now ! ” said Holmes, and we set off from the house.

  The maid who answered the door and to whom we gave our cards informed us that Mr.  Soames was indeed at home and would be happy to see us.  We were ushered into a large room that appeared to be a library.  Our host had obviously arisen from his armchair to greet us.  He was a man of moderate height, and as we had been told, was of more than usual handsomeness.  It was easy to imagine a lonely widow falling for his glossy black hair, flashing dark eyes, and trim moustaches, combined with a face that spoke of intelligence and sensitivity.

  His voice, however, gave somewhat of the lie to his appearance, being in some indefinable way not that of a gentleman, and corresponding to no dialect or accent with which I was familiar.  His words were civil enough, though, as he greeted us, made us welcome, and enquired pleasantly about our visit.

  “ As a business associate, and dare I say it, a friend of the late Mr.  Devereux,” Holmes told him in answer to his question, “ I felt it was my duty to pay a visit on the household.”

  “ Quite, quite,” murmured Soames.  “ Your name is Sherlock Holmes, I see.  Any connection to the detective ? ”

  “ That is myself,” replied Holmes, and I fancied I saw a look of fear come into the other’s eyes at these words.

  “ May I enquire the nature of the business you conducted with Mr.  Devereux ? ” asked Soames, and there was a distinct touch of nervousness in his speech.

  “ I fear that I am not at liberty to disclose the private matters which have been entrusted to me by my clients,” said Holmes in an even tone, “ even when the client may be deceased.  I am sure you understand.”

  “ Of course,” said Soames, but his attitude from then on became considerably more guarded.

  Holmes made small talk with him for a few minutes, and it soon became obvious that whatever qualities Soames might possess, a quick mind was not among them.

  “ Are you gentlemen staying long ? ” he asked.  “ I have company this evening, but I would be delighted to invite you to luncheon tomorrow.” His tone, however, was not expressive of delight.

  “ Alas,” Holmes sighed.  “ We must return to London in a matter of less than an hour, but perhaps we may accept your hospitality at some time in the future.”

  “ Oh, any time, any time,” said Soames, w
ith a marked lack of enthusiasm in his voice.

  We made our farewells, Holmes asking to be remembered to Mrs.  Devereux, and “ Gerald, Eliza, and Mary”.  The name of Gerald produced a frown on Soames’ face, but he said nothing as he acknowledged Holmes’ request.

  “ Are we really returning to London ? ” I asked, as we made our way down the drive towards the town.

  “ To be sure we are.  If we catch the 11:13 and change for the express at Rugby, we should arrive in London well before Somerset House closes.”

  “ You wish to see the death certificate for John Devereux, the father ? ”

  “ I have no reason to suspect anything related to that death.  No, I wish to see if there is a death certificate for Gerald Devereux.  You remember what Miss Scythorpe told us ?  No ?  She started to talk about his death, and then suddenly corrected herself and talked about a disappearance.  Obviously she was attempting to conceal the fact of the brother’s death from us for some reason.”

  “ And you wish to find out when and how he died ? ”

  “ Indeed.  The certificate, should I be able to locate it, will at least direct me in the nature of any further enquiries.”

  The journey back to London was spent in near silence, but as we passed Watford, Holmes suddenly spoke.

  “ Did you remark anything about Soames ? ”

  “ Other than his looks and the fact that he obviously is lacking in intelligence and education, very little.”

  “ You failed to observe, for example, that he has obviously earned his trade as a groom and a coachman in the past ? ”

  “ Indeed I did.  On what do you base that assumption ? ”

  “ It is not an assumption, my dear Watson, it is a deduction based on scientific evidence,” he replied a trifle testily.  “ Surely the particular malformation of the left hand caused by the frequent holding of the reins of a carriage would have informed you of his profession, even if you had failed to note his peculiar stance, typical of those who work with horses.  Added to which, the ‘ Pink ’Un’ thrust down the side of the armchair in a vain attempt to hide it from our view should have told you the class of person with whom we were dealing.”