Sherlock Holmes and the Mystery Writer

by Fred Thursfield

  The three of us took in the surroundings. Clearly this was an area not seen by the public. I noticed that there were stainless steel metal shelves attached to the white tiled walls. On the shelves were tools, instruments of the trade carefully stored in their respective resting places? These items, along with chemicals were used to make the deceased presentable to the ones who had come to pay their final respects.

  While all of this could be taken in and acknowledged the two white shrouded covered gurneys in the middle of the room caught and held our respective attention. All three of us being momentarily transfixed, Dr. Briggs presence did not immediately register until I heard his familiar voice with a slight echo resulting from the tile. “Mrs. Watson it is good to see you again, even if it is in such an unfortunate circumstance.” Not waiting for me to make formal introductions he extended his right hand in greeting and said to Sherlock “Mr. Holmes, what a pleasure and honour to meet you in person sir.

  I am Dr. Briggs and conducted the preliminary examination on both bodies” After he had heartily shaken Sherlock’s hand he turned to Winifred and inquired “Miss Jeffery?’ When Winfred nodded yes, the doctor gently took her hand lightly shook it twice and complimented her “It is also a pleasure to meet you in person I thoroughly enjoyed your last book The Pathway of Lost Souls.”

  “Before we begin can it be assumed that you all have interest in some form or another with the deceased?’ Alistair Hay inquired then he continued the line of questioning “it is Miss Jeffery’s interest that I am unclear with?” “Miss Jeffery’s interest is the most important” stated Sherlock with some assurance “because before any type of investigation is to begin we must be assured that we have the right bodies to fit the crimes that have obviously been committed”

  “Mr. Hay, if you will so kind as to pull back the shrouds so that a positive identification can be made.” Sherlock instructed the young funeral director. Watching Winifred start to retreat to the door as the sheets were being pulled back, I took her hand and reassured her “Winfred all you have to do is quickly look at them to make sure it is Charles and Stan then this ordeal will be over for you.

  Sherlock taking up the position at the head of each gurney looked from the uncovered faces to Winfred “Miss Jeffery if you would please” and then directed her attention to the now uncovered faces. Winfred haltingly took the few steps from the end of the gurney to the front. Still not able to face the task Sherlock took matters into his hands. He directed Winfred’s attention to her left and calmly asked “The man on the left is?” Winfred looked down at the cold, colourless face that she had remembered from the examination of the devastation of St. Peter and St. Paul church and softly replied “that is Charles Slade.”

  Not wanting to lose momentum, Sherlock continued “The man on the right is?” Winifred feeling that her resolve was starting to fade towards the task forced herself to look at another lifeless face. Hearing his voice again caution her “Don’t take too long miss; I have a feeling that some more of the roof may yet give way” as his voice faded away she softly responded that this was indeed Stan Mayes.”

  Out of respect for the visible signs Winfred was starting to exhibit Sherlock indicated that the two lifeless and colourless faces should be covered again. “Thank you Miss Jeffery.” Sherlock looked to me to help in some way for Winfred to gather her composure “Mary, perhaps its best if you take Miss Jeffery out to the reception area until she is feeling better. Dr. Briggs, Mr. Hays and I are going to see what each body can tell us about the killer and the type of weapon that was used to carry out this gruesome task. I will share what I have learned later.”

  When both Winfred and I had left the bodies were fully uncovered then turned on their stomachs so that the fatal wound at the base of each neck could be examined. Even though both bodies had been in a type of cold storage to prevent decay and that most of the natural colour had now drained away from the skin, the fatal wounds still looked and presented themselves as if they had been recently inflicted.

  After a moment of silence Sherlock asked “Dr. Briggs, from what you are observing could you determine the type of weapon that may have been employed?” “I would say from the dimensions and depth of the wound inflicted it was some type of cudgel Mr. Holmes. As you no doubt understand it is among the simplest of all one handed weapons.

  Essentially a short staff, or stick, usually made of wood and the wounds inflicted are generally known as bludgeoning or blunt-force trauma injuries...in other words, fatal. As a note Mr. Holmes, when I was examining the first body on the deck of the barge I informed Mrs. Watson...that he may have been killed before being disposed of. I surmised this while he was face down on the deck because I noticed a large contusion at the base of the skull breaking his neck. In my opinion no matter what was used to strike the killing blow the person doing it had considerable strength.”

  The last part of the doctor’s statement lodged in Sherlock’s mind triggering a connection which caused him to ask “Dr. Briggs what is another name for a cudgel?” Well Mr. Holmes in Ireland it is known as a shillelagh.” Beginning to fit the pieces together Sherlock continued “and would you conjecture that a man who makes a living as a bare knuckle boxing might possess the required strength to deal such a fatal blow?’

  Dr. Briggs not too sure where the questioning was heading answered “If he had what is a referred to as a mean right cross in boxing circles and was firmly holding a cudgel or shillelagh it is possible he could with one clean blow to the back of the neck deliver a fatal blow.” “Thank you Dr. Briggs, I believe with some certainty I can identify the killer of these two men as a Thomas Malone Prescott.”

  Later, when we returned to Winfred’s home and she was taking a much needed respite from what had been a trying experience, Sherlock shared what he had learned about the two deceased men. He related what the doctor had conjectured then started to summarize ...“All the facts I have gathered so far now seem to fit.” Sherlock stood up at this point and started to pace the room. “However what we have not yet discovered is the motive for the murders.

  The only connection I can see is that they had some general association with Miss Jeffery which is hardly motivation for what has occurred. Even more puzzling, is that the killer made little or no attempt to conceal his crime? This leads me to the conclusion, that Mr. Prescott has no real talent for killing outside of his chosen sport and he is under some pressure to carry out these killings as expediently as possible.”

  It was about 6 p.m. when Winfred, looking somewhat refreshed from her rest joined Sherlock and me to tell us that she was now feeling better and then commented that she would start to prepare the evening meal. I pointed to the range and pots seated on top already heating indicating that this task was well under way and that we would be eating shortly.

  During the meal, little was discussed about the events that had unfolded other than Sherlock saying to both of us as I was removing the finished dinner plates and cutlery from the table that he was gong to take a day trip to London tomorrow to inform Mycroft of the two murders and that he fairly certain of the killers identity.

  After an hour or so of light conversation Sherlock rose to leave. “I will take my leave of you both to return to my hotel to prepare for tomorrow. When I return tomorrow night I will share any new information I may have acquired.” Donning his outer coat and top hat he reached into an inside pocket to assure himself that the Survivors list was still safely located there.

  Confirming that it was, he flashed a brief smile in Winfred’s direction ‘You may rest some what assured Miss Jeffery that this matter will soon be at an end. We know of at least one suspect in this affair and with my brother’s extensive knowledge we yet might find out who else is involved.”

  Chapter 23

  The next morning three distinct events took place.

  The first: Sherlock making his way from his hotel to his brother’s government office
in London. Winifred and I were on a less than official journey to Culverstones the local green grocer to replenish her larder.

  As we entered the shop Winfred stopped for a moment and looked around as if she was still seeing of all the damage and devastation that had been repaired since her last visit. At the same time a shadowy figure that was charged with an important undertaking had remained hidden until after our departure and managed to force open a bedroom window to gain illegal entrance to Winifred’s home.

  “Good morning ladies and how can I help you today?” the shop keeper behind the counter cheerily greeted us as he tipped his cap in our direction. This brought Winfred back to the present and she took her shopping list from her hand bag and began the process of transferring food items from the list to the basket the shop owner had provided for his customers.

  While Winfred was picking up and examining the goods the store had to offer, putting some in the basket and others back the uninvited guest was involved in a similar task. Only his actions consisted of opening and emptying drawers and cupboards taking down books from their shelves ransacking each in a desperate search for what he had instructed to find.

  When we had finished shopping I suggested to Winfred that we take a walk along the high street hoping that the sights and sounds of people and commerce in Gravesend would brighten her mood. When we had walked both sides of the street and had stopped in a couple of shops that caught our interest she decided it was time to return home and prepare a late supper in anticipation of Sherlock’s return from London.

  When Winfred put the key in the lock and opened the front door the sight that presented its self to both of us was almost indescribable.

  It was as if a violent windstorm had become trapped within the walls of her house and all the contents of drawers, cupboards and shelves had been swept up then deposited haphazardly on the floor of each room. As she entered very uncertain as to what to make of the scene I heard myself caution her “Winfred stop...don’t disturb anything until Sherlock returns.”

  Chapter 24

  “Ah Sherlock” his older brother stated while rising from his large oak desk “you have come to tell me about the two murders that have taken place in Gravesend.” Sherlock briefly smiled then offhandedly said “I see you have recovered from your wound.”

  Mycroft moved the healed arm in acknowledgement. As both sat down Sherlock continued while putting his hat and cane beside him “Good news as well as bad reaches you fairly quickly. Yes, there were two murders committed within a few days by a Thomas Malone Prescott. I am starting to suspect that the murders, a Miss Winfred Jeffery and the Survivors list are very much linked together.”

  “I should ask Sherlock if this Miss Jeffery is in any danger.” “No because she is in the care of Mary Watson, who is proving herself very capable in helping to seek and sort out important facts in this case.” “What do know of this Thomas Prescott?” Mycroft inquired “Only for the most part what has been reported in the police gazette. Personally he proved to be something of a shadowy figure the few times in the past when Watson’s, mine and Prescott’s paths have crossed. The few certain facts I have about him are that he was born February 6, 1887.

  Prescott’s parents are from Dramorra, Ireland although he was raised in England he had a traditional Irish upbringing. He is well known throughout the borough where he resides and to the police by reputation as the “badger.” A skilled expert in weapons and use of explosives I would describe him as tall and lean. His slight stature and build belay his physical strength but these features are well suited for his chosen profession as a bare knuckle prize fighter.

  At that moment the same sets of thoughts ran through both brothers’ minds that the man who had committed the two savage killings was also the man who had tried to assassinate Mycroft and could be responsible for the near destruction of a church.

  Sherlock continued “It was said that anyone who fought the badger and lived they should consider themselves most fortunate for some of his less fortunate competitors never experienced that good providence. With the exception of you” Sherlock gestured to his brothers healed arm “in Gravesend there are two such men.”

  “Do you have a plan for dealing with this man, should you, Mrs. Watson or Miss Jeffery encounter him?” Mycroft asked in concern while rising from his desk indicating that the meeting was coming to an end. “Assuming he has come to reclaim this” at which time Sherlock also rose, collecting his hat and cane then momentarily producing the Survivors list “hopefully he will now assume that I am in possession of it. I will deal appropriately with Mr. Prescott as the situation presents itself.”

  Chapter 25

  By early evening Winifred and I had been standing and waiting together on the railway station passenger platform for some time watching for the London to Gravesend trains arrival. Each of us hoping that among the passengers there would be a consulting detective who could sort out the chaos that had presented itself when Winifred had opened the door to her home earlier.

  We both witnessed and heard the large and powerful steam engine like some great fire breathing Chinese dragon pass slowly by us with the line of passenger carriages it was pulling start to slow down. With the clank of buffers on buffers the train came to a stop. Almost in sequence the conductors descended from their individual carriages and started to assist passengers in moving safely from the bottom carriage step onto the station platform.

  A growing and bustling impromptu ballet of passengers and luggage proceeded in front of us for a couple of minutes until we both spotted the familiar form of Sherlock starting to make his way purposefully down the passenger platform towards the station. Walking towards him Sherlock looked momentarily surprised at seeing the unexpected and welcoming committee moving towards him.

  The three of us met next to a large wooden roof support post then Sherlock commented about our encounter. First he said “Mary” then “Miss Jeffery considering that the itinerary for my return journey to Gravesend it was originally planned that I was to join you both at Miss Jeffery’s home I can only deduce that there has been a major development sometime during my brief visit to London.” I looked to Winfred and let her share first hand what she had witnessed when she had put the key in the lock earlier then opened her front door.

  As we entered Winfred’s darkened home all three of us could only partially appreciate the devastation that was waiting to be fully illuminated. “I should turn on some light” Winfred stated as she stepped into the room carefully and cautiously picking her way among the strewn papers and scattered contents. Winfred turned on a couple easily reached table lamps then stood looking lost. Asking like any character from one of her mystery novels ‘How are you ever going to know who did this Mr. Holmes and why?”

  Sherlock already surveying the damage for possible clues smiled in Winfred’s direction and assuredly stated “The why Miss Jeffery we already know, an individual or a group of individuals wishes the return of the Survivors list. I believe this needless destructive action on the part of the person who has broken into your home is proof of its importance to them. The who, will prove to be as easy. It is my experience with almost any type of crime that the one committing it takes something from the crime scene and always leaves something behind.”

  Sherlock made a couple of circuits of the clutter, occasionally bending down to turn over a pile of paper or rearrange another. Saying as much to himself as to us “this will take too long to look for something that may have been misplaced. What I need, is for somebody to locate an article that is out of place, something that does not belong here.”

  “Miss Jeffery” Sherlock said as he straightened himself “you have resided been in this house for some time to be generally familiar with most of its contents and thus should be able to spot something that might not belong.”

  Feeling as if she was being drawn into one of her mysteries Winfred, a little more than interested
asked “Such as Mr. Holmes?” “Say a small article of clothing, some personal papers, jewellery perhaps, or in the off chance that our burglar was perhaps an intelligent educated avid reader a small easily carried book.”

  Winfred not believing what was happening next heard herself state “Perhaps like the one next to you on your right hand side Mr. Holmes?” Sherlock looked to his right and saw a small nondescript dark green book lying on the table as if it had placed there by its owner only momentarily to be retrieved later. The cover and the spine in faded gold letters read Foundations of Mathematics by Hilbert and Bernays.

  Trembling slightly he picked up the prize and opening it scanned the inside for clues of its reader then spied an inscription on the jacket leaf and let out a great laugh of success. Both Winfred and I looked surprised at the reaction he was having.

  Not keeping us in further suspense Sherlock read to us what was autographed in pencil. “To Andrew Foster Perry on his 16th birthday March 23, 1904.” Putting the book down he smiled like a cat that had finally caught two troublesome mice and pointed in the general direction to the chaos on the floor and stated to both of us “now we have two.”

  Chapter 26

  Andrew Foster Perry returned empty handed to London and to number 15 Exton Street with only a small suitcase containing a few personal items and a change of clothes. Other than not being able to locate the list he had been instructed to locate in the mystery writers home his only other worry was where he had misplaced his copy of Foundations of Mathematics.

  Until he was contacted by the anonymous people who gave instruction for any further assignments for him or for himself or Ashley, Andrew decided it was probably wiser to restrict his travels between the Brixton Market and his favourite pub The Prince Albert, both being within a close proximity to his home.