by Marvin Kaye
Yours Truly,
Mrs Hudson
* * * *
Dear Mrs Hudson,
Have you ever heard Sherlock Holmes tell a joke?
Risible in Rochester
* * * *
Dear Risible,
Never.
Yours Very Truly,
Mrs Hudson
* * * *
Dear Mrs Hudson,
Dr Watson assures us that Mr Holmes had no romantic interest whatsoever with Irene Adler, but with all due respect to him, I would sooner trust your woman’s instinct. Was the Great Detective ever smitten?
Eager in Edinburgh
* * * *
Dear Eager,
I am amused that a Scot would show interest in such matters, so I conclude that you are not a man, but a woman. Had you asked me this at some earlier time, I certainly would have said No, but in this issue Dr Watson has finally convinced Mr Holmes to allow him to tell a secret that I had not known about. I suggest that you read The Adventure of the Nine Hole League.
Sincerely Yours,
Mrs Hudson
* * * *
Dear Mrs Hudson,
How did you learn that Mr Holmes had not died at Reichenbach?
Concerned in Chichester
* * * *
Dear Concerned,
Dear, dear Dr Watson was ever so kindly about it. Late one afternoon, he surprised me by dropping by—he had not been living at 221 for some time—and invited me to dinner. At the end of the meal, over tea and cake he solicitiously insisted on taking my pulse and temperature, and he even listened to my lungs. Naturally, by this time I was aware that something was “up”! Then, and only after he’d reassured himself of my sturdy good health, did he make his revelation.
I rather surprised him, then, by telling him that in my heart, I was absolutely certain that Mr Holmes was not dead, though I had only my distaff intuition to go by. At that point, Mr Holmes appeared before us, and I am amused to tell you how disconcerted he was when I gave him a huge hug!
Very Truly Yours,
Mrs Hudson
* * * *
I always like to share recipes with my readers. Here are two, one of which thoroughly mystified both Dr Watson and Mr Holmes. But first, here is a fish dish that delighted my illustrious tenants. It is an Israeli dish that a neighbour introduced me to, and its original-language name is—
DAG BANANA BISHKEDEEM
4 large fillets of sole
2 bananas, halved the long way
½ cup blanched, slivered almonds
3 tablespoons of butter, plus ¼ cup butter
flour
salt and pepper, to taste
2 tablespoons of chopped parsley
½ lemon
Method:
1. Coat fish in flour and season with salt and pepper.
2. Sautė in hot butter for about ten minutes, or till lightly brown on both sides, then remove fish to a warm platter.
3. To skillet used to fry the fish, add ¼ cup of butter and heat. Add the bananas and sautė for two or three minutes till bananas are lightly brown.
4. Place half of a banana on each of the four fish pieces.
5. Into the skillet add ½ cup of almonds and sautė till light brown. Turn off heat.
6. To the almonds, add the juice of ½ lemon and also, 2 tablespoons of the chopped parsley.
7. Mix pan to combine ingredients and pour it over the fish.
When I first served my gentlemen the following dessert, they complimented me on it being “such an excellent apple pie.” Well, I astounded them both by stating that I used no apples at all, and then challenged either of them to solve the mystery. That is perhaps the only time that I remember hearing Mr Holmes laugh out loud!
APPLE PIE WITHOUT APPLES
20 whole Saltines or Ritz crackers
1 ¼ cups of sugar
2 teaspoons of cream of tartar
½ teaspoon of cinammon
2 cups of water
1 pie crust, top and bottom
Method:
1. Bring water to a boil without stirring it.
2. Add the crackers and boil for two minutes, again without stirring, then set it aside to cool.
3. Pour on the crust and put chunks of butter on top, then put the top crust on.
4. Bake at 425 degrees for twenty-five minutes.
THE ADVENTURE OF THE SHERLOCK HOLMES CHOCOLATE CARDS, by Gary Lovisi
Following in the footsteps of The Great Detective many of us seek out the more outre aspects of being a Sherlock Holmes fan by collecting unusual items relating to our hero. In doing so, it is possible to find odd items relating to him that are fascinating, often rare, but again always fun. Some of the best of these are the picture cards that were done for an obscure and long-forgotten chocolate maker in Barcelona, Spain, over eight decades ago!
Now there are a lot of Holmes-related picture cards out there. Going way back to the early 20th century there were many Sherlock Holmes cigarette picture cards and series. These were small cards included free inside cigarette packages of the era. There are various sets of these, mostly from the UK, and they are all avidly collected.
However, just as desirable, and even more rare, is the generally unknown series of the “Chocolate Jaime Boix” cards. These are not cigarette cards, but are what are termed “trade cards,” printed for business advertising. These cards are larger than cigarette cards, roughly being the size of a standard postal card, and they feature a color illustration from a story of the canon on one side, and text in Spanish about the illustration and story on the other side—along with advertising information that gives the chocolate makers name and address in Barcelona.
These cards are quite simply a lovely group of Sherlock Holmes illustrated images. The cards comprise three series that total 40 cards, none are dated, but they are from the 1930s.
Series A tells the story of “The Musgrave Ritual” (“El Ritual de los Musgrave” from the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes), in ten cards, numbered 1 to 10.
Series B recounts “The Speckled Band” (“La Banda Moteada”), with ten cards numbered 11 to 20.
Series C tells the tale of “The Sign of the Four” (”La Marca de los Cuarto”), this time taking 20 cards to illustrate the story, cards numbered 21 to 40.
The first card in each of the three series is a charming title card, featuring the name of the Holmes adventure and a design and illustration that captures some aspect of that particular story. The exception is the Series A #1 card, which is the first card in the set, and acts as a title card for the entire set. It is titled “Aventuras de Sherlock Holmes” and has an excellent image of Holmes with arms crossed, pipe in mouth, looking thoughtful as his eyes gaze over his London domain. Quite impressive. The rest of the cards offer terrific artwork depicting Holmes and Watson, along with various characters and villains from the three stories.
The art on cards 2, 7, and 8 of “The Musgrave Ritual” offer us stark images of murder as Holmes and Watson find a body while they investigate the Musgrave estate. Card 21, the title card for “The Sign of The Four,” shows some of the stolen treasure behind this dark case. Cards 16 and 17 for “The Speckled Band” feature images of Holmes and Watson with an agitated and villainous Dr. Roylott, and in the latter card, with a pensive Miss Stoner.
The art on all these cards is quite good, and while the artist is unknown—the art is signed but it is difficult to make out the name—it appears to be something like “cell Soliolifoto.” The art is reminiscent of that seen on the covers of dime novels of the early 20th century, a bit more formal than we are used to today, but it offers a view into a past world that now is long gone. Regardless, the images are bright and colorful, accurate to the canon and full of suspense and wonder—which is just the way we love to s
ee our Sherlock Holmes and his Watson.
These cards are incredibly rare, and a set of all 40 cards is virtually impossible to obtain and would likely cost hundreds of dollars. The individual cards sell from $10 to $25 depending on condition and the image on the card—obviously cards depicting Holmes and Watson go for a higher price.
As if this series isn’t impossible enough to complete, full disclosure forces me to at least mention that there is an even earlier and even more rare series of Spanish chocolate trade cards from the 1920s: the “El Detective Sherlock Holmes” ten card series put out by Fabrica de Chocolate de Jaime Torras Arano—but we’ll leave this one as fodder for another article, on another day.
To sum up, the 1930s Spanish Chocolate Jaime Boix trade card series offers 40 wonderful visions from three classic Holmes stories that surely will stimulate any Sherlockian collector’s appetite for the rare and obscure relating to The Great Detective. These unusual cards are great fun to collect, but it can be frustrating because they are nearly impossible to find—which is why it is such an adventure to locate them and complete a set—but they are well worth your search. As Holmes himself might tell us, half the fun is in the hunt. So let the adventure begin!
[I would like to thank Robert C. Hess for his kind assistance with information for this article.]
GARY LOVISI is a Sherlock Holmes fan, collector and pastiche author whose story “The Adventure of The Missing Detective” was nominated by the Mystery Writers of America for a Best Short Story Edgar Award. Lovisi has also written various stories and articles in Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine, as well as the book Sherlock Holmes: The Great Detective in Paperback & Pastiche (Gryphon Books, 2008). His latest book is The Great Detective: His Further Adentures (Borgo Press, 2012), an anthology he edited of Holmes pastiches. You can find out more about him and his work at his website: www.gryphonbooks.com
A MOST VALUABLE INSTITUTION, by Dan Andriacco
How Sherlock Holmes Used the Press
“The Press, Watson, is a most valuable institution, if only you know how to use it.”
When Sherlock Holmes says that, in “The Adventure of the Six Napoleons,” he isn’t just delivering a throw-away line for effect. He is revealing one of the secrets of his success as a sleuth. Throughout his career, Holmes effectively uses the Press in a number of different ways.
In “The Six Napoleons,” Holmes has Lestrade tell the journalist Horace Harker “that I have quite made up my mind, and that it is certain that a dangerous homicidal maniac, with Napoleonic delusions, was in his house last night.” The hapless Harker publishes this bunk, which achieves Holmes’s aim of lulling the killer and thief Beppo into a false sense of security.
Holmes does something similar in “The Adventure of the Illustrious Client.” Having been the victim of a murderous assault, he wants the villain behind the attacks—the infamous Baron Gruner—to believe that he has achieved his goal. “The first thing is to exaggerate my injuries,” Holmes tells Watson. “They’ll come to you for news. Put it on thick, Watson. Lucky if I live the week out—concussion—delirium—what you like! You can’t overdo it.” Watson does his job: “For six days the public were under the impression that Holmes was at the door of death.”
These instances of Holmes using the Press for disinformation are rare. Most often he uses the newspapers, and sometimes journalists, for information. Holmes is an omnivorous reader of the papers, clipping and pasting into his “good old index” ads and articles of astonishing variety. Equally amazing is his filing system. Thus we find in the V volume: the voyage of the Gloria Scott; Victor Lynch, the forger; venomous lizard or gila; Vittoria, the circus belle; Vanderbilt and the Yeggman; vipers; Vigor, the Hammersmith wonder; vampirism in Hungary and vampirism in Transylvania (SUSS).
Holmes seems to have regarded “the agony columns”—what we now call classified ads—and news stories as equally file-worthy. Nowhere is this clearer than in a passage from “The Adventure of the Red Circle,” where Watson writes:
He took down the great book in which, day by day, he filed the agony columns of the various London journals. “Dear me,” said he, turning over the pages, “what a chorus of groans, cries, and bleatings! A rag-bag of singular happenings! But surely the most valuable hunting ground that was ever given to a student of the unusual.”
And so it was. On this particular occasion, Holmes finds a string of ads in The Daily Gazette from one “G,” who turns out to be Gennaro Lucca, communicating with his wife, Emilia.
But just think of the many other ads that appear in the Canon, not all of which wound up in the index: Jabez Wilson’s helpful assistant points out to him an ad about a tremendous opportunity called the Red-Headed League (REDH). Poor, deluded Mary Sutherland advertises for the missing Hosmer Angel, little dreaming how lost that cause was (CASE). An ad for a missing engineer causes Holmes to comment with dark humor, “Ha! That represents the last time the colonel needed to have his machine overhauled, I fancy” (ENGI). Violet Hunter both advertises and answers ads when looking for a position as a governess (COPP). Mycroft Holmes, that least energetic of men, stirs himself to place an ad “in all the dailies” offering a reward for information about Paul Kratides from Athens and “a Greek lady whose first name is Sophy” (GREE). It is “an advertisement in the Times” that lures music teacher Violet Smith into such a perilous position in the home of Mr. Carruthers (SOLI). The spy Hugo Oberstein communicates with Colonel Valentine Walter through ads in The Daily Telegraph, which Holmes uses to his advantage by taking out an ad of his own under Oberstein’s pseudonym to trap Walter.
Sherlock Holmes himself also places ads, although not as often as you might think. I count five times, from key actions in A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four to an ad that finds no takers in “The Naval Treaty,” to a passing mention in “The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax.” Most memorable for me is the scene in “The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle” where Holmes writes: “Found at the corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. Henry Baker can have the same by applying at 6:30 this evening at 221B Baker Street.” He then tells Peterson, the commissionaire, to “run down to the advertising agency and have this put in the evening papers.”
“In which, sir?”
“Oh, in the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St. James’s, Evening News Standard, Echo, and any others that occur to you.”
“And any others that occur to you?” Just the mention of six evening newspapers in one city, even in the capital city of the British Empire at its height, is enough to make anyone acquainted with the sad state of 21st century newspapers weep. Other Holmes stories refer to whole crop of additional London dailies: The Standard (STUD), The Chronicle (REDH, CARD), The Daily Gazette (REDC), The Morning Post (NOBL), The Daily Telegraph (STUD, COPP, BRUC), The Daily News (STUD, GREE), and of course The Times (SIGN, HOUN).
Holmes consults back issues of The Times in The Sign of Four, proving that the good old index doesn’t have everything. Indeed, although Sherlock Holmes was a tireless reader and clipper of newspapers, it seems that some items of note do get past him. Yes, he knows about the Countess of Morcar’s stolen blue carbuncle from reading the advertisement in The Times every day. But he somehow misses the account of what Watson calls “the vanishing of the lady” in “The Adventure of the Noble Bachelor,” even though it was written up in The Morning Post and he has all the newspapers on his stack. Nor does he recall reading about the death of Arthur Cadogan West in “The Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans,” although Watson remembers and manages to find the account “among the litter of papers upon the sofa.”
Even when Holmes is generally aware of a case, though, he often turns to the newspapers to acquire more in-depth knowledge. For example, as he and Watson hurdle toward Exeter at fifty-three and a half miles an hour, the detective dips into “the bundle of fresh papers which he procured at Paddington” to get the latest news on the murder of John Strake
r and the disappearance of Silver Blaze. I think we can assume that Holmes never entirely trusts the accuracy of such accounts. Nevertheless, he often uses them as a starting point.
So familiar is Holmes with the daily Press that he can distinguish their type faces, although he humbly confesses to Watson in The Hound of the Baskervilles that “once when I was very young I confused the Leeds Mercury with The Western Morning News.”
Unlike Nero Wolfe, who frequently calls on the inside knowledge of a journalist named Lon Cohen, Sherlock Holmes has no long-term relationship with a member of the Press. In the later years of his career, however, he forms a bond with an unusual character named Langdale Pike. As Watson tells it:
Langdale Pike was his human book of reference upon all matters of social scandal. This strange, languid creature spent his waking hours in the bow window of a St. James’s Street club and was the receiving-station as well as the transmitter for all the gossip of the metropolis. He made, it was said, a four-figure income by the paragraphs which he contributed every week to the garbage papers which cater to an inquisitive public…Holmes helped Langdale to knowledge, and on occasion was helped in turn. (3GAB)
The only other journalists Holmes encounters are Neville St. Clair, otherwise known as “The Man with the Twisted Lip,” and Isadora Persano, “the well-known journalist and duelist, who was found stark staring mad with a match box in front of him which contained a remarkable worm said to be unknown to science” (THOR). For full details on the Persano case, consult Watson’s tin dispatch box.
Despite his apparent inattention to cultivating the Press, Holmes’s cases frequently are well reported long before Dr. Watson takes up his pen. In fact, that is the very reason that some of the cases don’t make their way into the Canon. At the beginning of “The Five Orange Pips,” in explaining why he had chosen not to record certain adventures, the good doctor notes that “Some, however, have already gained publicity through the newspapers…” (FIVE)
