The New Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes

The New Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes

by Martin Edwards

Dedicated with admiration to the late Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Introduction copyright David Stuart Davies 2014

An Appreciation of Martin Edwards copyright Michael Jecks 2012

All other material copyright Martin Edwards 1997-2014

Introduction

By David Stuart Davies

One of the great mysteries surrounding Sherlock Holmes is why his creator Arthur Conan Doyle had such a low opinion of the character. He soon grew tired of his brilliant detective after two novels and a dozen stories and was only persuaded to carry on with a further set of tales by the increased fee he was offered by the
Strand
magazine. Doyle believed that this catchpenny detective took him away from his greater work, his historical fiction, and so he famously killed him off by having him topple into the raging waters of the Reichenbach Falls locked in the arms of his arch enemy, the criminal mastermind, Professor Moriarty. It was only the astronomical fees offered by both British and American publishers that finally persuaded the author to raise Holmes from the dead. From then on the author treated his character as a ‘cash cow’, a form of easy money. Whenever he required extra finances, he would pen a Holmes story. At the end of his life Conan Doyle had scant regard for Sherlock Holmes. But the public and posterity knew better.

Over the years Mr S. Holmes of 221B Baker Street has reached iconic status. While most of Conan Doyle’s other writings have largely been forgotten, perhaps with the exception of
The Lost World
, Sherlock Holmes remains a vibrant literary persona whose volumes fill bookshelves in most countries of the world.

So fascinating and seductive is the character that readers desire more stories featuring Sherlock. Doyle’s fifty-six short stories and four novels no longer suffice. Like addicts they constantly crave further injections of Baker Street shenanigans, puzzling mysteries, brilliant deductions and dramatic detective action. In was in the 1970s that phenomenal success of Nicholas Meyer’s novel
The Seven Per Cent Solution
opened the floodgates to a deluge of Holmes stories by other writers aiming for the same kind of success. This preponderance of Sherlock tales continues. Unfortunately only a few writers are able to capture with accuracy and verisimilitude the aura of Baker Street, the authentic character of Holmes and Watson and the nature of their friendship. Some writers have only the sketchiest knowledge of Doyle’s stories and style; indeed there are those who base their version on the film and television presentations without any recourse to their source and therefore fail to capture the essential spirit of the character and his adventures. However, that is certainly not the case with this collection. One only has to read a few pages to realise that Martin Edwards has not only caught the style and quality of the originals, but the characters speak with Doylean voices.   In short, Martin Edwards knows his Holmes and he puts that knowledge to great effect in this set of cases.

It is interesting to note that while some of Conan Doyle’s stories have weak plots – ‘The Mazarin Stone’ and ‘The Veiled Lodger for example -  all the tales presented here are finely constructed mysteries in which Holmes is able to demonstrate his brilliance as a detective. This is partly due, of course, to the fact that Edwards is a fine crime writer in his own right and has great experience in conceiving puzzles to confound his readers.

Edwards avoids the mistake of treating the stories as historical fiction. Although the bulk of the originals were written in the Victorian and Edwardian period, to Doyle they were contemporary stories and thus he did not inject them with ‘historical detail’ as so many would-be Holmes scribes do, as though they have digested pages of research about the period from some scholarly tome and feel the desperate need to regurgitate it in their fiction.

However, it is fair to say that Edwards is not slavish in his presentation of the Baker Street world. He performs that clever trick which few would-be pastiche writers carry off successfully. The trick is to be true to the originals but yet be fresh and at times surprising. Edwards also allows gentle humour to infiltrate the text without pushing it to broad comedy or farce.

Aficionados of the Doylean canon will also be pleased with Edwards’s reference to the unwritten cases mentioned in the original stories. Doyle had great fun with his readers by referring to investigations that Watson had failed to place on public record such as the adventure of the Politician, the Lighthouse, and the Trained Cormorant or the affair of the Amateur Mendicant Society. The latter actually features in one of Edwards’ stories.

Need I say more? This is a gem of a collection, a Blue Carbuncle or a Borgia Pearl of a volume. I recommend this trip down Baker Street guided by the safe stewardship of Martin Edwards.

David Stuart Davies is the author of two one-man plays and six novels featuring Sherlock Holmes– the latest is
Sherlock Holmes & The Deadly Necklace
, published by Titan November 2014.

The Case of the Suicidal Lawyer

“You have arrived just in time, Watson,” Holmes said as I returned to 221b Baker Street after a stroll one crisp February morning. There was a twinkle in his eye as he added, “I am expecting a visit from the rarest of creatures - a lawyer who is prepared to put his hand in his own pocket, rather than that of one of his clients, to pay for my professional services.”

“Wonders never cease, Holmes!” I said lightly. “The circumstances which bring him here must be remarkable indeed."

My friend gave a dry chuckle. “They possess certain features which are of interest. It seems that Mr Matthew Dowling took a young man into his firm believing him to be a Dr Jekyll, but now has reason to fear that he may also be in partnership with a Mr Hyde"

I was delighted to see Holmes in a genial humour. For several months he had been engaged on a series of cases of the utmost consequence and of late his temper had begun to suffer. I regarded this as a warning that he might again be putting his health at risk. Some of his investigations had to be conducted in circumstances of the greatest secrecy and it must suffice to say that on one occasion during this period the destiny of a throne depended upon his personal intervention. Other cases excited the attention of the Press and general public throughout the land and I may in clue course put them into print. These include the business of the Lincoln seamstress and her extraordinary pets and the conundrum which I have referred to in my notebook as the case of the melancholy wicket-keeper.

The strange features of those puzzles, coupled with the undeniable pleasure Holmes experienced in seeking to succeed, through the rigorous application of logic, where extensive police work had failed, at least meant that he had no need of artificial stimulation. I feared above all that he might resort again to cocaine for boredom threatened. For all that, I was concerned that the nervous energy he had expended would once again take its toll. He was himself aware of the punishing effect on his constitution of the long hours he had been working and in recent weeks a couple of chance remarks had suggested that he was beginning to contemplate retirement. Much as I relished our collaborations, my first concern was his well-being and the eagerness with which I anticipated his response to a fresh challenge was therefore matched by the silent hope that it would not tax him beyond endurance.

“So your new client had a junior partner who leads a double life!" I asked.

“Of sorts. Perhaps you would like to read what the solicitor had to say?”

He tossed me a letter bearing the previous day’s date and a private address in Doughty Street.

Dear Mr Sherlock Holmes. -I am aware of the considerable esteem in which you are held as a consulting detective and my cousin Mr Tobias Wrigley speaks highly of your work in connection with Madame Montalambert
‘s
affidavit. I should therefore like to consult you personally in a matter of the utmost sensitivity. It concerns not a client of my firm, but rather Mr John Abergavenny, whom I invited to become my junior partner a little less than twelve months ago. I took him in, believing that he was a competent, likeable and trustworthy young fellow who would adhere to the same high standards which I have always set for myself. Yet his personality has suddenly undergone a grotesque and inexplicable transformation. He has become an incompetent and a debauchee. He has also threatened to commit suicide. I have taxed him on these matters, but his response has been wholly unacceptable. I have no wish to be unfair to him, but I cannot permit conduct which may damage the firm whose reputation I have laboured these past thirty years to establish, especially as we act for clients in the most sensitive transactions. I am left contemplating the need to dissolve our partnership, but before taking such a drastic step, should be most grateful for your professional opinion. If it is convenient, I would propose to call upon you at ten o'clock tomorrow morning. I understand from Mr Wrigley that you charge at a fixed rate and for the avoidance of doubt I should make it clear that for the first consultation, I would regard the fees you agreed with Mr Wrigley as entirely reasonable.

Yours faithfully

MAXWELL DOWLING

I thought for a moment before saying, “You deduce that he is a solicitor rather than, say, a stockbroker or other professional man, because that is Wrigley’s line?”

“Not that alone. The prolixity of Mr Dowling’s literary style suggest to me that he learned the law in the days when legal draughtsmen were paid by the word. It is a fussy letter, yet it makes the salient points. There is, too, the phraseology that he employs which I would associate with a lawyer rather than, say, a financier or a medical man. He cannot be a barrister, however, since members of the Bar do not practise in partnership. Above all, though, I would refer you to the obvious fact that this letter appears to have been composed by a man who is genuinely troubled by a mystery which he wishes to resolve with all due speed.”

“Hence the early appointment?”

“Precisely. You will note, however, that he takes care to specify with some precision the terms upon which he proposes to contract for my services. Think of all those others who have anxiously sought my assistance over the years. Who else but a lawyer would take such trouble? I do not accuse Dowling of possessing an especially mercenary turn of mind. I would rather say simply that the habits of a lifetime are seldom abandoned, even
in extremis.
Depend upon it, my boy, this new client is a solicitor. But there is a ring at the bell. We shall soon have an opportunity to test the accuracy or otherwise of the inferences I have drawn.”

We heard a measured tread upon the stairs and within moments Mr Maxwell Dowling was ushered into our room. He was a man of about sixty, small, neat and anxious in manner. He wore a hat, gaiters, black trousers and pince-nez attached by a long ribbon to the lapel of his frock-coat. He studied us both through the glasses before giving a bow which seemed to denote satisfaction with what he observed.

“It is good to meet you, Mr Holmes. Thank you for being prepared to see me at such short notice. I must admit I have not myself read the accounts of your exploits penned by your faithful chronicler here. Dr Watson. Young Abergavenny has yet to persuade me of the appeal of sensational literature. But as I mentioned in my letter, I have heard from my cousin that you are intrigued by the bizarre, and the matter which brings me here is nothing if not that.”

“If we are agreed that I am to charge you by the hour for my services," Holmes said, with a touch of mischief, “perhaps it would be prudent for you to explain the details without more ado.”

“Ah yes. Forgive me, my dear wife has been known to complain that I am a trifle long-winded.” Dowling coughed. “Ahem. The further and better particulars. Certainly. I should first say, Mr Holmes, that I am a solicitor with a small office in Essex Street. For the past three decades I have been a sole practitioner acting for a number of - if I say so myself - most distinguished clients. But during the past eighteen months or so, my wife has been encouraging me to think of the future. As a result, I began to look around for a partner, someone who might come into the business with a view in the long term to buying out my share of it.”

Our visitor paused and I had the distinct impression that he was about to confide in us at some length concerning the financial anxieties faced by a man in such a position. Holmes was no doubt of the same mind, for he said briskly, “And so you took in this Mr John Abergavenny?”

“Yes, he had been working for a firm in Holborn with which I have regular dealings. He seemed a splendid fellow, an ideal choice. Hard-working and capable, a thoroughly decent young man. Above all. there was no question as to his integrity. He seemed to be a man I could trust and that, of course, was a matter of the most fundamental importance. He was the first to admit that he was not in the same league as his gifted elder brother, but he made it clear that he was determined not to be wholly over-shadowed."