Sherlock Holmes: Before Baker Street by David Marcum (books to read to be successful TXT) 📗

“Excellent, Watson! You know me like no other,” Holmes conceded while still chuckling in merriment. He composed himself and explained, “I arrived at the Yard, and with every officer I encountered, I made sure to find some way to compliment, and offer my services for free for the remainder of the week. By the time I reached Lestrade’s office, most of the force was scratching their heads, wondering if I had gone mad.

“When I saw the inspector, I sincerely apologized for my behavior, and told him that most of his work had been impressive and that I did not give him the credit he was due. I conceded that he did solve most of his cases without my assistance, and that the force was lucky to have him.

“Lestrade frowned deeply as he sat at his desk, listening to my words. As my compliments increased, his frown only deepened. Finally, he held up his palm and said, ‘Let me stop you right there, Mr. Holmes.’

“I paused and we both stared at each other for a brief moment. Lestrade continued giving me a black look, and he finally said, ‘So, I see you’ve been paid a visit by Mr. Chen.’

“I was going to speak but again Lestrade stopped me, ‘Don’t bother saying it, Mr. Holmes. I can tell. Chen’s one of our finest associates. His fighting techniques have saved many an officer in a dark London street corner. He saw me this morning after he had word of your insults towards me and the force. He asked if I would continue working with you if you came here today and apologized for your harsh words yesterday.’

“‘Of course, I said I would. But I know you, Mr. Holmes, and I thought that would be an impossibility.’

“Lestrade continued glowering. I offered Lestrade my hand and again, I apologized. He stared down, mulled it over, but he slowly lifted his right hand and we shook.”

“And that was that,” I said to Holmes. “And you continued working with Lestrade.”

“Of course, Watson, and the inspector continues to improve. I slowly prod him along as a Master must with a Pupil. There will come a day, I foresee, where I will feel that leaving a case in his hands will be as safe as if I had it in my own.”

“And what of Mr. Chen? Did you continue working with him?”

“Yes, Watson, but the hour is late, and I feel those tales will have to wait for another day.”

NOTE:

1 – Apoplexy: Term for stroke in 19th century

The Adventure of the Amateur Emigrant

by Daniel D. Victor

Family and friends insisted that The Amateur Emigrant be pruned . . . even though that which was excised not only was every bit as finished as the parts deemed publishable but also was integral to an understanding of the situation as Stevenson saw it and to the work as a whole.

– James D. Hart, Introduction

From Scotland to Silverado

by Robert Louis Stevenson

I

Rare were the days that Sherlock Holmes dragged the large tin box to the centre of the sitting room and surveyed the contents therein. But no sooner had I returned from my surgery one mid-December morning in ‘94 than I saw him in the middle of the room puttering with the papers and artefacts that filled the old box. Perhaps he’s seeking distraction, I speculated. Mrs. Hudson was off preparing for the Christmas holidays, I had been consulting with patients, and Holmes himself had recently completed his investigation into the singular affair of Professor Coram and that business with the Golden Pince-Nez at Yoxley Old Place. Of course, he might also be researching a case.

Whatever the reason for the appearance of the box, I should confess that the sight of it had always aroused in me a twinge of jealousy. Careful readers will recall that the contents of the receptacle in question represented a part of Holmes’s detecting career in which my presence was nowhere to be found. In point of fact, the collection consisted of notes and memorabilia saved from Holmes’s earliest cases, those investigations undertaken before he and I had met in 1881. Here were his notes on the Gloria Scott, the Musgrave Ritual, the Tarleton Murders, and that strangest of tales involving the aluminium crutch – all fascinating glimpses into the world of crime, to be sure, but all lacking any contribution or analysis from me, the scribe Holmes once had called his Boswell.

The bulk of the material consisted of papers gathered into small stacks, each held together by red tape. There were numerous such bundles, yet I knew that beneath papers lay additional treasures, specific objects Holmes had preserved from the investigations themselves – the peg of wood and attached ball of string from the Musgrave affair, for example, or the leather hand-grip from the aluminium crutch.

“A trip into the past?” I asked my colleague.

“Quite so,” said Holmes. “I have always held that a periodic review of former cases helps stimulate the brain. Through such analysis, one may discover recurring patterns in the criminal mind. You may recall, Watson, how my recollection of the Hindu snake charmer of Brixton helped me predict the behaviour of the villainous Dr. Grimesby Roylott and his so-called ‘Speckled Band’.”

I did not recall the anecdote he cited – presumably because he had never bothered to report it to me. Yet all I said was, “Certainly, Holmes, but these things here,” – I made a dismissive gesture in the direction of the tin box – “represent cases from your callow youth.”

“However true, old fellow, such observations are still ripe for the picking – though today I must confess that I’m looking for a set of papers that are more nostalgic than instructive.”

I had no idea to what he was referring, but none