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acdholmesfestTitle: The Case of the Disappearing Husband
Recipient:the_last_day_of_winter
Author:smallhobbit
Rating: G
Characters, including any pairing(s): Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Warnings: No warning apply
Summary: A missing husband, an abundance of newspapers, and Holmes in disguise. Clearly Watson is about to become involved in a case.
Disclaimer: A few details Watson failed to include in his stories, but nothing else to surprise a reader of the Strand magazine.
One morning I had woken somewhat later than usual, despite having gone to bed at what could be termed a reasonable hour. I was surprised to see the time when I glanced at my watch and could only conclude the rain, which had been quite heavy the evening before, had continued for most of the night and soothed my sleep. I rose, washed and dressed before descending the stairs. There was no sound coming from our main room. I concluded Holmes must have gone out for there was no smell of tobacco smoke which would have indicated he had spent the night in deep thought.
I entered the room and stopped short, exclaiming, "Oh, for goodness sake, Holmes!" The floor, the chairs and every other surface were covered in papers.
At that moment, Mrs Hudson knocked and entered, presumably having heard my footsteps. She, too, stopped and said, "Well, really!"
We looked at each other and Mrs Hudson said, "Will you be requiring breakfast, Doctor? Mr Holmes did tell me to say you were to join him as soon as you were up."
"Did Holmes say where I was to join him?"
She shook her head. "No, Doctor. I assumed you knew."
"Presumably somewhere amongst this mess," I waved my hand to indicate the papers, "there are my instructions. In the meantime, I would very much like some breakfast, if that were possible."
"Of course, Doctor. I shall do you an extra egg, in case you miss out on luncheon later."
I thanked her, and she departed. I consider the papers, wondering where Holmes would have left the address to which I was supposed to go. My first thought was to check the letters attached to the mantelpiece by Holmes’ jack-knife, but these revealed nothing of particular interest. I gathered up the newspapers which were covering the dining table so Mrs Hudson would have space for my breakfast, but again there was nothing to reveal my desired destination. One paper had been folded to the personal column, and Holmes had annotated it with various hieroglyphics, but I could make neither head nor tail of them.
Hearing Mrs Hudson’s footsteps on the stairs I went to sit in my accustomed place at the table, removing as I did so yet another newspaper. It was the morning’s paper and from force of habit I turned to the racing page. At the top of the page, in Holmes’ unmistakeable handwriting, were the words Fitzroy Square Gardens.
I could, I suppose, have leapt out of my seat and rushed off immediately to meet Holmes, but it was clear he had anticipated the chain of events which resulted in my finding the address, a chain which included me sitting down to breakfast. I therefore felt entirely justified in enjoying my food before I set out to join him.
Having finished eating, I picked up my hat and coat and left the house. The rain had been blown away, and, as the sky looked clear, I decided to walk. As I did so, I reflected on the little I knew about Holmes’ current case. It had begun a couple of days earlier with a visit from Inspector Lestrade. A lady had come to report her husband as being missing. The usual enquiries had been made, but it appeared he had left his office at midday for a lunch appointment and then simply failed to return. He did not appear to have been admitted to any of the hospitals, nor was there any sign of foul play, so Lestrade had been forced to conclude it was possible the man had gone to visit a mistress.
But even so, Lestrade had felt there was something else going on and had consulted Holmes before admitting his suspicions to the lady. Holmes had counselled Lestrade to say nothing other than enquiries were still being made, and meanwhile he would follow his own line of thought. Where exactly that line of thought had taken him, I had as yet no idea.
Upon reaching the gardens, I could see no sign of Holmes. There was, however, a convenient bench, and I sat down to wait. I was not entirely surprised when shortly afterwards I was approached by a priest who had a map in his hand. He enquired whether I could help him and, receiving my assent, sat down beside me.
"Well, Father," I began, laying stress on the second word, "of course I can direct you to Baker Street."
There was a slight snort from that gentleman, and he spread his map out to enable us to hold hands beneath it, before saying, "I trust you slept well last night, Watson."
I nodded. "Yes, I was surprised to find how late it was when I woke. You do know you can always wake me if you need my assistance, Holmes."
"Indeed, my dear fellow, but my enquiries this morning required me to go alone. Oh, there was nothing dangerous, simply a few people who preferred to only speak before me and who would almost certainly have remained silent were a second person present."
"Did you find the information you required?"
"I have had a number of my theories confirmed, but as yet I cannot prove one vital link in the chain. And before I make a direct approach, I would like to be more certain of the motive." He paused for a moment and then leapt up. "I am afraid I have brought you here under false pretences. I dare not proceed for the moment, so let us return to Baker Street."
"Very well," I replied. "Although I would like to know what is going on."
"I shall explain as we walk."
He set off at a rapid pace, and I was obliged to call out to him, "Holmes, don’t you think it a little unseemly for a gentleman of the cloth to be walking so quickly?"
He chuckled and slowed a little. "You are aware I am pursuing Lestrade’s case for him?"
"The one with the missing husband."
"Indeed. He left his home carrying only his briefcase and disappeared at lunchtime. The assumption being that he could not have intended to be away overnight since he had not taken a case, which, incidentally, I have confirmed to be true."
"That would be the conclusion I would have come to."
"However, I have since discovered that that particular morning the wife left the house carrying a suitcase containing, according to her maid, clothes she was intending to give a friend for her collection for the homeless."
"Plausible. Mrs Hudson does the same with some of our garments when she refuses to mend them any further."
"But the maid did not see the clothes in the case, nor did she know who the lady was visiting. I believe the wife had packed a case for her husband, which she deposited at a left luggage store at one of our railway stations. She then met her husband for lunch and gave him the receipt, whereupon he collected his suitcase and left London."
"Why would she do that?"
"That I do not know. I am assuming there is a reason for this charade, but I cannot tell whether she is deliberately committing a felony or whether she is the unwitting pawn of her husband. Until I have a better idea, I do not want to confront her and risk causing her flight as well."
We had arrived back at Baker Street, where we were greeted by Mrs Hudson, who said, "A lady called for you about quarter of an hour ago. She went away but said she would return later. She didn’t leave her name."
Holmes frowned. "Why didn’t you persuade her to wait?"
"I could hardly show her into your rooms when there wasn’t even a seat free for her to sit on," Mrs Hudson expostulated.
Holmes was about to complain, but I touched his arm and said, "Perhaps we should go and make the place presentable for her when she returns."
Once inside our rooms I began to pick up the papers, but Holmes protested, declaring there was an order which he did not want muddled. He began to pile them up, but then paused to read, or reread, one of the articles.
"Holmes!" I said sharply.
"What?" he said, looking up. "Oh, yes!" He gave me one of his smiles, which conveyed he was aware of how well I knew him and resumed the task. It was none too soon. There was a knock at the door, and we heard Mrs Hudson say, "Mr Holmes is back now. Please come this way."
The lady was admitted and took a seat. "Thank you so much for seeing me, Mr Holmes," she began. "My name is Mrs Louise Endicott, and I have come to you because my husband has gone missing. I have already been to the police, but they have been no help at all, and you are my final hope." She rubbed a corner of her eye as if to wipe away a tear.
Holmes nodded, and said gravely, "Please tell me the details. I trust you won’t object to my friend and colleague, Dr Watson, making some notes."
Mrs Endicott flashed a smile at me before looking downwards and saying quietly, "Of course not."
The story she told us was word for word the same story which Lestrade had related. Even to my ears that seemed unusual. Normally, when something is relayed more than once there are small alterations, maybe a different emphasis, perhaps a minor detail is added or omitted. This, however, sounded more like a playscript which has been learnt.
Clearly, Holmes thought the same because he rose out of his chair and went to stand in front of the door before saying, "Why exactly, Mrs Endicott, have you come to see me?"
She flushed and said, "I told you. My husband is missing."
He looked at her and said, "That is true to an extent. We do not know where your husband is. You, however, do know."
She stood up. "How dare you!"
"I have been following your correspondence through the personal columns of the newspapers. Unfortunately, I have so far been unable to locate your husband by this method. Up until now I have been wondering whether you were simply following his instructions, but now you have decided to consult me, I see you are fully in agreement with his plans."
"Let me go!" she demanded.
He stood to one side. "Very well. I have no power to detain you. You will, however, discover the police do not share in that disadvantage."
"I do not believe they will do anything."
"I have already shared my suspicions with them. At the moment you are safe while you stay in London, but as soon as you attempt to board a train, you will be arrested."
Mrs Endicott glared at Holmes. Then without a further word she left our rooms.
"Was it wise, forewarning her like that?" I asked. "Even if she does not leave London, surely she will contact her husband?"
The smile Holmes favoured me with was one of a tiger which has its prey in full view and is about to pounce. "I’m sure she will. Which was why I have already taken the liberty of placing a message for him. I may not know where he is, but I have cracked the code sufficiently to send my own message."
Holmes was right. Within the hour we had received a telegram from Lestrade to confirm that Endicott had been arrested when he stepped off the ferry from the continent.
There is little more of interest to report on the case. Endicott was convicted of the theft of a diamond necklace from a client’s wife, and his own wife was convicted of being an accessory. She successfully pleaded that she had been forced to act by her husband, but Holmes was fairly sure she was the instigator of the crime. She was certainly clever enough to ensure Endicott took most of the blame.
Holmes and I went out for dinner at Simpson’s to celebrate and then continued that celebration in a more intimate form later, but for that I do not need to go into details.
Recipient:
the_last_day_of_winter Author:
smallhobbit Rating: G
Characters, including any pairing(s): Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Warnings: No warning apply
Summary: A missing husband, an abundance of newspapers, and Holmes in disguise. Clearly Watson is about to become involved in a case.
Disclaimer: A few details Watson failed to include in his stories, but nothing else to surprise a reader of the Strand magazine.
One morning I had woken somewhat later than usual, despite having gone to bed at what could be termed a reasonable hour. I was surprised to see the time when I glanced at my watch and could only conclude the rain, which had been quite heavy the evening before, had continued for most of the night and soothed my sleep. I rose, washed and dressed before descending the stairs. There was no sound coming from our main room. I concluded Holmes must have gone out for there was no smell of tobacco smoke which would have indicated he had spent the night in deep thought.
I entered the room and stopped short, exclaiming, "Oh, for goodness sake, Holmes!" The floor, the chairs and every other surface were covered in papers.
At that moment, Mrs Hudson knocked and entered, presumably having heard my footsteps. She, too, stopped and said, "Well, really!"
We looked at each other and Mrs Hudson said, "Will you be requiring breakfast, Doctor? Mr Holmes did tell me to say you were to join him as soon as you were up."
"Did Holmes say where I was to join him?"
She shook her head. "No, Doctor. I assumed you knew."
"Presumably somewhere amongst this mess," I waved my hand to indicate the papers, "there are my instructions. In the meantime, I would very much like some breakfast, if that were possible."
"Of course, Doctor. I shall do you an extra egg, in case you miss out on luncheon later."
I thanked her, and she departed. I consider the papers, wondering where Holmes would have left the address to which I was supposed to go. My first thought was to check the letters attached to the mantelpiece by Holmes’ jack-knife, but these revealed nothing of particular interest. I gathered up the newspapers which were covering the dining table so Mrs Hudson would have space for my breakfast, but again there was nothing to reveal my desired destination. One paper had been folded to the personal column, and Holmes had annotated it with various hieroglyphics, but I could make neither head nor tail of them.
Hearing Mrs Hudson’s footsteps on the stairs I went to sit in my accustomed place at the table, removing as I did so yet another newspaper. It was the morning’s paper and from force of habit I turned to the racing page. At the top of the page, in Holmes’ unmistakeable handwriting, were the words Fitzroy Square Gardens.
I could, I suppose, have leapt out of my seat and rushed off immediately to meet Holmes, but it was clear he had anticipated the chain of events which resulted in my finding the address, a chain which included me sitting down to breakfast. I therefore felt entirely justified in enjoying my food before I set out to join him.
Having finished eating, I picked up my hat and coat and left the house. The rain had been blown away, and, as the sky looked clear, I decided to walk. As I did so, I reflected on the little I knew about Holmes’ current case. It had begun a couple of days earlier with a visit from Inspector Lestrade. A lady had come to report her husband as being missing. The usual enquiries had been made, but it appeared he had left his office at midday for a lunch appointment and then simply failed to return. He did not appear to have been admitted to any of the hospitals, nor was there any sign of foul play, so Lestrade had been forced to conclude it was possible the man had gone to visit a mistress.
But even so, Lestrade had felt there was something else going on and had consulted Holmes before admitting his suspicions to the lady. Holmes had counselled Lestrade to say nothing other than enquiries were still being made, and meanwhile he would follow his own line of thought. Where exactly that line of thought had taken him, I had as yet no idea.
Upon reaching the gardens, I could see no sign of Holmes. There was, however, a convenient bench, and I sat down to wait. I was not entirely surprised when shortly afterwards I was approached by a priest who had a map in his hand. He enquired whether I could help him and, receiving my assent, sat down beside me.
"Well, Father," I began, laying stress on the second word, "of course I can direct you to Baker Street."
There was a slight snort from that gentleman, and he spread his map out to enable us to hold hands beneath it, before saying, "I trust you slept well last night, Watson."
I nodded. "Yes, I was surprised to find how late it was when I woke. You do know you can always wake me if you need my assistance, Holmes."
"Indeed, my dear fellow, but my enquiries this morning required me to go alone. Oh, there was nothing dangerous, simply a few people who preferred to only speak before me and who would almost certainly have remained silent were a second person present."
"Did you find the information you required?"
"I have had a number of my theories confirmed, but as yet I cannot prove one vital link in the chain. And before I make a direct approach, I would like to be more certain of the motive." He paused for a moment and then leapt up. "I am afraid I have brought you here under false pretences. I dare not proceed for the moment, so let us return to Baker Street."
"Very well," I replied. "Although I would like to know what is going on."
"I shall explain as we walk."
He set off at a rapid pace, and I was obliged to call out to him, "Holmes, don’t you think it a little unseemly for a gentleman of the cloth to be walking so quickly?"
He chuckled and slowed a little. "You are aware I am pursuing Lestrade’s case for him?"
"The one with the missing husband."
"Indeed. He left his home carrying only his briefcase and disappeared at lunchtime. The assumption being that he could not have intended to be away overnight since he had not taken a case, which, incidentally, I have confirmed to be true."
"That would be the conclusion I would have come to."
"However, I have since discovered that that particular morning the wife left the house carrying a suitcase containing, according to her maid, clothes she was intending to give a friend for her collection for the homeless."
"Plausible. Mrs Hudson does the same with some of our garments when she refuses to mend them any further."
"But the maid did not see the clothes in the case, nor did she know who the lady was visiting. I believe the wife had packed a case for her husband, which she deposited at a left luggage store at one of our railway stations. She then met her husband for lunch and gave him the receipt, whereupon he collected his suitcase and left London."
"Why would she do that?"
"That I do not know. I am assuming there is a reason for this charade, but I cannot tell whether she is deliberately committing a felony or whether she is the unwitting pawn of her husband. Until I have a better idea, I do not want to confront her and risk causing her flight as well."
We had arrived back at Baker Street, where we were greeted by Mrs Hudson, who said, "A lady called for you about quarter of an hour ago. She went away but said she would return later. She didn’t leave her name."
Holmes frowned. "Why didn’t you persuade her to wait?"
"I could hardly show her into your rooms when there wasn’t even a seat free for her to sit on," Mrs Hudson expostulated.
Holmes was about to complain, but I touched his arm and said, "Perhaps we should go and make the place presentable for her when she returns."
Once inside our rooms I began to pick up the papers, but Holmes protested, declaring there was an order which he did not want muddled. He began to pile them up, but then paused to read, or reread, one of the articles.
"Holmes!" I said sharply.
"What?" he said, looking up. "Oh, yes!" He gave me one of his smiles, which conveyed he was aware of how well I knew him and resumed the task. It was none too soon. There was a knock at the door, and we heard Mrs Hudson say, "Mr Holmes is back now. Please come this way."
The lady was admitted and took a seat. "Thank you so much for seeing me, Mr Holmes," she began. "My name is Mrs Louise Endicott, and I have come to you because my husband has gone missing. I have already been to the police, but they have been no help at all, and you are my final hope." She rubbed a corner of her eye as if to wipe away a tear.
Holmes nodded, and said gravely, "Please tell me the details. I trust you won’t object to my friend and colleague, Dr Watson, making some notes."
Mrs Endicott flashed a smile at me before looking downwards and saying quietly, "Of course not."
The story she told us was word for word the same story which Lestrade had related. Even to my ears that seemed unusual. Normally, when something is relayed more than once there are small alterations, maybe a different emphasis, perhaps a minor detail is added or omitted. This, however, sounded more like a playscript which has been learnt.
Clearly, Holmes thought the same because he rose out of his chair and went to stand in front of the door before saying, "Why exactly, Mrs Endicott, have you come to see me?"
She flushed and said, "I told you. My husband is missing."
He looked at her and said, "That is true to an extent. We do not know where your husband is. You, however, do know."
She stood up. "How dare you!"
"I have been following your correspondence through the personal columns of the newspapers. Unfortunately, I have so far been unable to locate your husband by this method. Up until now I have been wondering whether you were simply following his instructions, but now you have decided to consult me, I see you are fully in agreement with his plans."
"Let me go!" she demanded.
He stood to one side. "Very well. I have no power to detain you. You will, however, discover the police do not share in that disadvantage."
"I do not believe they will do anything."
"I have already shared my suspicions with them. At the moment you are safe while you stay in London, but as soon as you attempt to board a train, you will be arrested."
Mrs Endicott glared at Holmes. Then without a further word she left our rooms.
"Was it wise, forewarning her like that?" I asked. "Even if she does not leave London, surely she will contact her husband?"
The smile Holmes favoured me with was one of a tiger which has its prey in full view and is about to pounce. "I’m sure she will. Which was why I have already taken the liberty of placing a message for him. I may not know where he is, but I have cracked the code sufficiently to send my own message."
Holmes was right. Within the hour we had received a telegram from Lestrade to confirm that Endicott had been arrested when he stepped off the ferry from the continent.
There is little more of interest to report on the case. Endicott was convicted of the theft of a diamond necklace from a client’s wife, and his own wife was convicted of being an accessory. She successfully pleaded that she had been forced to act by her husband, but Holmes was fairly sure she was the instigator of the crime. She was certainly clever enough to ensure Endicott took most of the blame.
Holmes and I went out for dinner at Simpson’s to celebrate and then continued that celebration in a more intimate form later, but for that I do not need to go into details.
