Notes From the Dispatch Box of John H Watson, MD

by Ashton, Hugh

  Comments on the Deed Box Series

  by Hugh Ashton

  “Ashton captures the spirit & style of Conan Doyle’s heroes in three new original tales. His attention to detail, both in characters & settings, makes the mysteries seem like an extension of the original works. For this reader, Ashton’s stories are like a cool drink of water after a long dry spell.”

  “Hugh Ashton quite simply makes the perfect pastiche. If you have always wished the original 60 was actually 600, then his stories are for you. If you want a different Holmes invading a different era, look elsewhere. But if you want the originals, buy everything that comes off the pen of Hugh Ashton.”

  “In writing new stories about the legendary Sherlock Holmes, Ashton is rubbing shoulders with literary heavyweights - Neil Gaiman, Kim Newman, Andy Lane and many others. How does he compare? Very well, I’m glad to say”

  “Hugh Ashton continues to grind out masterpieces very favorably comparable to the original tales by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle!”

  Notes From the Dispatch Box of

  John H. Watson MD

  Further Untold Stories of

  Sherlock Holmes

  As Discovered By

  Hugh Ashton

  Published by Inknbeans Press

  © 2013 Hugh Ashton and

  Inknbeans Press

  Grateful acknowledgement to Conan Doyle Estate Ltd. for permission to use the Sherlock Holmes characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are written in respectful tribute to the creator of the principle characters.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  Acknowledgements

  MANY thanks to all who have assisted in making this book what it is. No writer is an island—and I am no exception.

  First, to my parents, David and Gillian Ashton, who provided me with my love of books and of reading (though my habit of having three books on the go at once, scattered around the house, was probably more of a curse than a blessing). Without this early encouragement, you probably would not be holding this book in your hands today.

  For the whole of the last year, Jo, the Boss Bean at Inknbeans Press, has continued to provide her warm words of encouragement and wise advice. I feel very fortunate to have been accepted as a writer by the Beans on the other side of the Pacific Ocean.

  To my readers and fans around the world (and yes, it seems I do actually have fans, amazing as it still appears to me). Thank you for your encouragement and support.

  And as always, to my wife Yoshiko, whose support and assistance make it possible for me to continue in the task of producing these adventures.

  Editor’s Notes

  by Hugh Ashton

  THE first deed box sent to me from London containing some of the untold cases of Sherlock Holmes was a source of wonder to me as I explored the various documents within it. When I had come to the end of the cases, though, I confess to having been somewhat disappointed that not all the cases mentioned by Watson in the published works were present. Was it possible, I asked myself, that the box that had been sent to me was not the box that Watson had mentioned in Thor Bridge? Perhaps there was more than one box that had been deposited in the vaults of Cox & Co?

  As it turned out, my guess was correct. As I was in the final stages of editing The Darlington Substitution, I received another message from my friend in the bank in England. Amazingly, another box had been discovered, also with Dr Watson’s name painted on the outside. She asked if this should also be sent to me. You may guess at my answer!

  When the box arrived, I opened it with some excitement, which rapidly turned to an initial sense of disappointment. While the first box had contained neatly sorted papers, for the most part concerned with the cases of Sherlock Holmes, and complete adventures described in a style which required little work before they could be published, the contents of this new box, the physical appearance of which which came far closer to the description of the dispatch-box described by Watson, were different. This box seemed to have been used as a storage place for all Dr. Watson’s papers, and not only those relating to Sherlock Holmes. I found myself confronted by laundry lists, old wedding invitations, press cuttings relating to medical colleagues (or so I assumed), and very little which marked John Watson as the intimate friend and biographer of the famous detective Sherlock Holmes.

  But my disappointment soon turned to excitement. In the manner of an archaeologist who has dug his way through layers of modern refuse, eventually to discover a Roman mosaic or some similar treasure, I discovered at the bottom of the dispatch-box a cardboard box, stuffed to overflowing with records of Sherlock Holmes and his cases.

  To be sure, these papers were in nowhere near the condition that I had discovered the papers in the first of the boxes. Some were rough notes, some were completely contained in notebooks, obviously fair copies which had been intended for publication, but for some reason had never seen the light of day, and there were several packets of loose papers. One of these packets contained many papers written in a hand that I failed to recognise; it being neither that of John Watson, with whose writing I was now unhappily familiar (“unhappily” on account of its splendid illegibility), nor that of Sherlock Holmes, samples of whose hand I had encountered in the previous box. Of this packet, more below.

  Out of these treasures, I have picked three episodes. All of these have connections to the adventures that Watson published.

  The first of these is the Affair of the Vatican Cameos. This is quite an extraordinary tale, involving as it does low crime and high politics. It also shows to us that Sherlock Holmes was by no means invulnerable. Intelligent and resourceful he may have been for the most part, but this is probably the master detective at his lowest point. Watson, however, does make the excuse for him that he was suffering from a cold, and anyone who has felt their judgement to be similarly impaired by such an infection will sympathise with this.

  The next episode that I have picked is puzzling. I have given it the title of the Reigate Poisoning Case, although the name that is given here for the major protagonist somewhat contradicts the case associated with that name, as given by Watson in the canon. I have given my thoughts on this confusion in my notes at the beginning of this piece.

  The third and final episode that I have chosen to include in this volume is extraordinary. I could hardly believe my eyes when I recognised what I was reading. The name of John Clay is of course familiar to those who have studied the works of John Watson. He is described as “murderer, thief, smasher, and forger” in the Red-Headed League. As I leafed through the pages, I realised that I was reading the story of the “fourth smartest man in London” told in his own words, and his relationship with Sherlock Holmes as his career progressed. I did not have to wonder how this had come into the possession of Dr Watso
n, as Watson himself has given a complete explanation of these circumstances.

  There are still many documents in this box relating to Sherlock Holmes that will repay close examination, and I am sure that in the near future I will be able to release more of John Watson’s unpublished works to the world.

  For now, please accept the first offerings from the second box of John H. Watson, MD.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Acknowledgements

  Editor’s Notes

  The Affair of the Vatican Cameos

  The Reigate Poisoning Case

  The History of John Augustus Edward Clay

  As Told by Himself

  About the Author

  The Affair of the Vatican Cameos

  Editor’s Notes

  The writing I have reproduced here comprised the contents of a small black notebook, written in Watson’s hand, and also containing a letter, unique in my experience, the contents and origin of which are explained in the appropriate place. Since there are very few corrections and changes, we may guess that this notebook formed the final manuscript of an adventure that Watson intended for publication. It is not difficult, however, to guess why this adventure never saw the light of day. Almost certainly, Sherlock Holmes would not have been happy to see an account of the humiliation that he suffered as described here. After all, he made his living through his skills as a detective, and for these skills to have been revealed as having been lacking (even though there is some excuse here) would hardly have served as an advertisement for his business.

  Even so, this case is of great interest, not only to those who follow the adventures of Sherlock Holmes, but also to those who are interested in the politics of the times in which he lived. This adventure will certainly shed some light on some of the secrets of the British government of the day.

  This case is alluded to in The Hound of the Baskervilles. Holmes says, “ I was exceedingly preoccupied by that little affair of the Vatican cameos, and in my anxiety to oblige the Pope I lost touch with several interesting English cases”. This is a puzzle to Sherlockians. Was Holmes speaking in some sort of metaphor when he talks about his “ anxiety to please the Pope” ? We can see from this account that he was “ preoccupied” by the affair—this seems to have been his euphemism for his capture and detention. But was he actually employed by the Pope directly, or does he use His Holiness as a metaphor for the whole Church ? And why would Holmes, who expresses little interest in religion, and so often took cases on their merit, rather than primarily for financial reward, be “ anxious” to oblige the Pontiff ?

  The theory to which I am rapidly starting to subscribe is that Holmes was brought up as a Catholic, possibly educated at one of the great Catholic schools of England, such as Ampleforth or Stonyhurst, and to avoid rivalry and comparison with Mycroft, who was almost certainly an alumnus of Trinity College, Cambridge, Sherlock Holmes chose to attend Trinity College, Dublin.

  Although such a choice of educational establishment would be far from popular with the Catholic Church, and it is almost certain that Holmes’ analytical mind would reject much Church dogma, making him a lapsed Catholic, we may assume that his upbringing left him with some respect for the institution, if not for all its beliefs, which made him utter the words above.

  zz

  O

  f all the adventures I experienced with Sherlock Holmes, few had a more dramatic beginning than the one I relate here.

  It was a chill winter’s day, and the snow which had fallen all night, and continued to fall still, lay heavy upon London like a shroud. Sherlock Holmes was warming himself crouched in front of the fire, following a fruitless expedition earlier in the morning, during which he had been on the trail of the principal witness in the case of the Tankerville Club scandal.

  “ The fellow slipped away from me in Bond-street,” he complained to me. “ It is impossible that he could have known that I was following him, and yet...” He sighed deeply and fell a-coughing. “ The wretched cold has seeped into my bones,” he declared, and sank down in front of the fire in silence, a posture from which he did not move for a good twenty minutes.

  “ I had no idea that Trapstall’s was now selling throat lozenges,” he remarked suddenly. “ Have the goodness to pass me one, if you please.”

  “ How did you— ? ” I asked.

  “ Simple. I remarked a copy of Collier’s as I walked into the room. Since this is not a magazine that is delivered to us by the good Richardson who owns the newsagent’s around the corner, I must assume that you walked to Trapstall’s, the nearest vendor of the journal to us, to purchase it, a fact that is also demonstrated by the dampness of your overcoat, occasioned by the snow.”

  “ I follow you so far,” I said, extending to him the packet of lozenges that I had indeed purchased not two hours earlier at the store. “ But these lozenges ? ”

  “ There is really only one way to reach Trapstall’s on foot from here, unless you pass by way of the Park, a route that does not recommend itself in this weather. As you know, it is a little hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge of the streets of London, and there is no chemist’s or other shop likely to sell these lozenges that lies along that path that you took today. Here in the grate, I see a scrap of the very distinctive wrapper for these patent lozenges, which I know to have been purchased today. Earlier this morning you were complaining of a sore throat and lamenting the fact that there was no medicine here to relieve the symptoms. Ergo, I conclude that you went to Trapstall’s, purchased the magazine, and your eye lit upon these lozenges which, if I remember correctly, were not available from there in the past.”

  “ You are absolutely correct,” I responded, laughing. “ What a far-reaching deduction you have made from such trivial details.”

  “ No detail is trivial,” he reproached me, “ when it is a question of a crime having been committed. Such so-called ‘trivial’ details can then easily become matters even of life and of death.” He filled his pipe, and was about to light it with a spill, when he flung the flame back into the fireplace. “ For once, thanks to this throat of mine, I feel that tobacco would provide little solace.”

  I glanced at him sharply.

  “ No, Watson, I am not about to resume my self-poisoning habits. Your concern is duly noted, however.” He rose from his cramped position in front of the fire and stretched his long frame. At that moment, the front door-bell rang violently, and shortly after, the door burst open to reveal a man whose height exceeded even that of Sherlock Holmes, but who lacked his wiry musculature. He was dressed well, but given the weather, a little eccentrically, with no overcoat or hat, and I noticed that one of his boots was brown, and the other black. He appeared to be in a state of extreme agitation, which was confirmed when he stopped in the doorway, and gazed wildly about him before his eyes came to rest on Sherlock Holmes.

  “ You must help me ! ” he cried, his eyes fixed on my friend. “ My reputation ! My job ! My life ! All ruined ! ” So saying, his face turned a ghastly pale colour, and he collapsed in a crumpled heap on our bearskin rug. I bent to succour him, dashing a little water into his face, and forcing a little brandy down his throat when he stirred. At length, he was able to rise unaided and I settled him in an armchair, facing Sherlock Holmes.

  “ You came from Bloomsbury by cab, of course ? ” Holmes asked him.

  “ Yes, indeed I did so. I felt that it was unwise to incur any delay, such as might be occasioned by public transport.”

  “ You must surely feel the cold outside, after the warmth of the Museum ? ”

  “ I do. My office is well-heated, and today’s inclement weather was an unpleasant shock to my system when I stepped outside.” He paused, and regarded Holmes quizzically. “ I did not inform you of where I work, or from where I came or how, before I... before I lost my wits, did I ? ”

  Holmes chuckled. “ You did not tell me in words, but your dress and other little matters informed me of these things. For example, I see the tip of a seaso
n-ticket between Holborn and Parson’s Green protruding from your waistcoat pocket. It seems to me to be far more likely that you work close to Holborn and live in Parson’s Green than the other way round. As for the cab, you have come here without a hat or a coat, which I would regard as being essential for any type of travel in today’s weather, excepting a hansom cab. The fact that your boots do not match tells me several things. Firstly, that you were in a hurry when you put them on.” The other nodded. “ Secondly, that you wore boots this morning when you went to your place of work, but removed them and wore more comfortable shoes or even slippers there. You do not always do this, but sometimes return home in your lighter shoes, leaving the boots at the office.”

  “ How do you know this ? ” asked our visitor.

  “ One boot is splashed, and the other is relatively clean,” Holmes informed him. “ Since it snowed this morning, and the snow is still on the ground, indeed, still falling, I assume that you wore a black pair of boots to work, which became wet. However, in your haste to come here, you seized two boots, not caring if they were of the same pair.”

  “ Well, that is all perfectly true,” replied our visitor. “ And the Museum ? ”

  “ Your appearance, if I may say so, my dear sir, is that of a man who tends to an academic mode of life, rather than a commercial one. Both your physiognomy and your mode of dress mark you out as a man of intellect. Given this, and the fact that a copy of the most recent issue of the Mémoires of the Société des Antiquaires de France currently protrudes from your pocket, an edition, by the way, which carries a small monograph of mine on the subject of Chaldean systems of mathematics, I drew a bow at a venture, and appear to have hit the mark. However, I confess that I am ignorant of which branch of the museum benefits from your knowledge and expertise.”