Many brutal and gory cases have come to the attention of the public during the years in which Sherlock Holmes has been in practice and a good number of these matters were resolved as a result of his abilities. Throughout my chronicles of his work I have, at my own choice as much as at his request, endeavoured to show the manifestations of the extraordinary powers he possesses rather than focus upon the cases which were of a sensational nature or which afforded my friend great acclaim upon their solution. However in going through my records I see that the time has come when I am able to combine such a demonstration of one of the heights of my friend's career with one of the grisliest and most notorious crimes of the century.
Holmes' position as a private, consulting detective meant that only exceptional cases came to his notice. The carpet covering the seventeen steps up to our rooms in Baker Street has been worn down by countless varieties of clients over the years, from all walks of life, including official personages and some even of a royal nature.
Clients are swept along on the winds of their troubles to land in the strange, Bohemian oasis in the little corner of London where Sherlock Holmes can be consulted. Many an eye will come to rest nervously upon the patriotic V.R emblem made out in bullet holes on the wall, but despite the many eccentricities of the surroundings they always find solace in the calm methodology and kindness of my friend. I have often wondered at my fortunate lot in being able to witness, record and to occasionally be of service in Holmes' cases and I feel that the time is now right for me to lay a record of this particular sequence of events before the public.
One dreary October day in 1897 Holmes concluded a case which I had to some small degree assisted him with. He had worked exceptionally hard on it and that afternoon he had triumphantly announced that he was without doubt in possession of his proofs. I poured two celebratory brandies as he dispatched the necessary telegram and was about to suggest some relaxing activity for that evening, when Inspector Lestrade burst through the doors of our rooms in a state of considerable excitement, He stopped upon the threshold and looked from one to the other of us with a kind of desperation that I had never seen in him before. Despite my friend's air of calm composure I could see that the nigh on frenzied state of the official forces representative had thrilled him with the promise of something in the singular line which he held dear.
"The whole thing is really very awkward," Lestrade cried, "it looks like this one could go on Mr. Holmes, like it could turn out to be a very bad business, very bad indeed."
Holmes ushered our aggrieved guest into a chair.
"What is to be done Mr. Holmes?"
"Lestrade I fear that I have been engaged on a case which has necessitated my attention to be devoted exclusively to chemical analysis for the last three weeks. It has been a most fascinating problem, did you hear of it?"
"Yes indeed Mr. Holmes, but I must have your assistance with this that I have to hand. It's unusual all right, just the thing that would interest you, and we have to resolve it immediately."
"Very well Lestrade," said Holmes as he passed the Inspector a brandy which was accepted with a badly shaking hand.
Lestrade looked towards Holmes and was calmed by that almost hypnotic power of soothing which my companion exuded when he wished, a sip of brandy completed the Inspector's recovery and he proceeded to explain the reason for his flustered visit.
"It began three nights ago Mr. Holmes, and were it anyone but yourself I would think it a miracle that you have not heard of it. I presume that Dr. Watson worked with you intensively during your recent case?"
"Indeed Lestrade," I answered, "having been occupied this last week in scanning every evening paper of the last month I must admit that anything from the more recent editions is out of my province."
"Four nights ago gentlemen, a murder was committed which I can only describe as the most savage I have ever seen. The body of Mr. William Mason was found in an alleyway in Brixton in the early hours of Wednesday morning. He looked as though he had been literally torn to shreds by someone, or more likely something, in an extreme fit of animal rage."
Lestrade paused to allow his words to impact upon us. The only sound was the steady beat of the rain dashing itself tirelessly in waves upon our window panes.
"An escape from a zoo?" I ventured.
"None reported," said Lestrade flatly, "nor of maniacs or dangerous criminals loose. Although the coroner lays that no man, crazed or otherwise, could have effected such damage."
"A private collector's blunder then?" I suggested.
"If so we are looking for the owner of the beast as well, since above the bodies was a quote from the Bible written in chalk, "Cursed be he that removeth his neighbour's landmark," Deuteronomy 20:17. Underneath it were five lines of references to the Holy Writ and a crucifix marked upon the man's forehead in his own blood. There was nothing at the scene except what I have described."
Holmes eyes sparkled with their grey fire.
"Bodies, Lestrade? You have only named one victim."
Lestrade steeled himself and spoke quickly, not seemingly to relish making the matter more real by speaking of it.
"Since that night, each night, another murder has been committed and excepting the identity of the victim and the location, all the details are the same."
"Why did you not come and tell me of this sooner Lestrade?"
"Because we were instructed to leave you focused on your case by the most exalted corners! I had been told that you would probably wrap it up today so I waited outside until I saw your boy come out bearing a telegram. Once he told me you had concluded the matter I came straight up to lay things before you. There is talk Mr. Holmes, as these incidences began on the first night of the full moon."
Holmes gave Lestrade a very dark look.
"Lestrade, do you suggest that Watson and myself get blazing torches, stakes and silver bullets and take to a witch hunt or do you come to me as a man of reason?"
"Mr. Holmes there is talk and I am very reluctant to have to go before such a fearful public and tell them that I am empty handed and without a clue as to this assassin that strikes on the full moon."
"Why are you so convinced of this lunar theory Lestrade? You must have investigated murders on the full moon before."
Holmes eyed the Inspector curiously and Lestrade became even more flustered than he already was.
"There was another, last month."
Holmes was across the room and had uncovered his chalk board before I had even realised that he had stood up.
"What was the date of this murder?"
"The full moon Mr Holmes."
"The date Lestrade."
"3rd of September," Lestrade mumbled, looking rather ashamed of himself.
"I recall the incident, the motivation was presumed to be revenge."
"That's correct Mr. Holmes. The victim, if ever such a word could be applied to Simon Tompkins, had a list of enemies almost as long as his list of convictions. It was not something we pondered long over and presumed the message to relate to some specific offence of his."
"Would it be too fanciful of me to suppose that any of the crime scenes are left undisturbed?"
"We could not leave them as they were Mr. Holmes, there has been such an uproar about this case. If the pattern we have holds true, this killer may disappear for another month and then strike afresh."
"I shall require the victim's details Lestrade."
"I have the details here," said Lestrade as he passed Holmes a map and a list of names, "I thought you would want them right away."
I went and looked over my friend's shoulder at the five sinister marks on the map.
"All fairly spaced throughout Brixton. It would be impossible to guess at a pattern without further data."
"We were hoping it would not come to that Mr. Holmes."
"Yes indeed Lestrade. What connection have you traced between these five victims?"
"We can find none bar the parallels given in the information I have handed you there which I think you will own are not very promising. They may all have been familiar with the fourth victim, Mr. Harold Stoppard, as he ran the Angel Arms, which is quite central to the area."
"Do you have the numbers which make up the messages?"
"Yes they are here," Lestrade said as he handed Holmes another piece of paper.
"Are they the same in each case?"
"Yes, and the words too."
Holmes held the paper before his eyes, contracted his brow and was silent for some time.
"Not exclusively references to Deuteronomy Mr. Holmes. Deuteronomy has thirty four verses and you will note that this sequence of references includes verse numbers over forty."
"I presume you have tried and failed to attach any meaning or coherence to the references?"
"We are trying Mr. Holmes," Lestrade said, sounding a little offended, "however, no satisfactory pattern has emerged as yet."
"That is very odd, it is not likely that this was written up upon the wall for no reason at all, unless it is the work of a madman," I said.
"It would have helped me greatly to see the original numbers and the written quote. I have quite an interest in the study of handwriting and the same theories could be applied to some extent to these written numbers. It is imperative, should the worst happen, that I be able to study any fresh evidence for myself. Did you observe the numbers Lestrade?"
"I did," the Inspector replied.
"Very good, think very carefully Lestrade, this may well be vital."
"I shall do anything I can Mr. Holmes," said Lestrade earnestly.
"What height was the message written at upon the wall?"
"About six feet up Mr. Holmes, so we're not looking for a short man."
"Can you recall if the message, in the first instance, was higher up the wall than in the last four?"
"Now you mention it Mr. Holmes, I seem to recall that as I stood in front of the messages I had to look up less at the last four than at the first."
"The difference was?"
"I couldn't say exactly, about four or five inches. Yes, I'd say the first was approximately five inches higher up the wall and that all the others were lower and about the same height as each other."
Holmes sprang up out of his chair and paced the room with his head bent down upon his chest. The Inspector as I myself knew him well enough to remain silent and await his next question or instruction, Lestrade was too dependent in this instance to tease my friend for his eccentric behaviours as he sometimes ventured to do. Holmes suddenly sat down in front of Lestrade and stared for a long time at the paper once more, then he seemed to make up his mind.
"I presume that you have seen all five scenes Lestrade?"
"Of course I have Mr. Holmes! Now, I want to know what you're driving at. You think that the first message was written by one person and four by another, a shorter individual, since they wrote further down the wall?"
"Answer my question Lestrade and hopefully, in time, I shall be able to answer yours. Was there any difference notable to you between the writing, not the numbers, but the writing, in the first case as compared to the other four?"
"None that I or anyone else could discern Mr. Holmes.'
"I presume that you were able to establish that the message was written after the murder took place."
"Yes Mr. Holmes, the blood on the wall had been disturbed by the chalk."
"Tell me Lestrade, what theory are you yourself pursuing?"
"It is clearly a sequence of revenge killings, the numbers obviously refer to chapters of the Bible."
"Really Lestrade? What else, may I ask, is obvious?"
"Well, that they relate to whatever reason these victims were killed."
"Why do you suppose that when you can trace no connection between the victims apart from that they may or may not have known a local publican by sight?"
"Well Mr. Holmes," Lestrade said, his patience clearly slipping, "the quote implies a connection does it not? My guess is that a group of people bought property and somehow cut one or more partners out of the deal, these crimes are the vengeance for that betrayal. The quote from the Bible refers to the situation and the message is a warning to those who remain. We will therefore be concentrating on investigating the connection between these victims which we hope will lead us to the perpetrator or perpetrators, however Mr. Holmes if you have a better solution I would be very keen to hear it."
Holmes stood and shook his head, "I will need to look at these details further. I would assume that since you have taken steps to remove the chalk messages from public view that there are not many people who know what these numbers are, nor the full circumstances surrounding the crimes."
"Well no Mr. Holmes, not many at all. Each body was discovered by a constable on duty so thankfully the public do not yet know the details of the scenes. Those who do are yourself and Doctor Watson, myself, the constables to hand on each occasion, the officers working on the case and our heads of department. Not a small number Mr. Holmes, but select, we certainly don't want it getting out. All are trustworthy men and I should be very surprised if anyone had leaked anything."
"Is there anyone who would normally be told of an incident of this kind who has not yet been informed?"
Lestrade gave Sherlock Holmes an odd look, "why yes Mr Holmes, there are two men who do not yet know how things stand. Inspector Godfrey Dunstan, who is currently too sick to leave his bed, and the London police chief, Peter Hollis. Hollis has been away attending his daughter's wedding in Warwickshire and he has ordered that nothing should interrupt him. He returns in an hour or so and will be briefed then."
"These men who are not up to speed with the circumstances, may I presume that they were not informed of the Simpkins murder due to it's being perceived as routine?"
"They would have heard of it Mr. Holmes, but not been informed about the details of the scene as that was not deemed to be important at the time, although I don't see what that has to do with anything."
Holmes stood up sharply, "thank you Lestrade. I shall contact you before the day is out and I think we shall resolve this matter very quickly."
"Mr Holmes!" Lestrade cried as he jumped to his feet, "this is either devilry or very bad humour. You can't mean you have solved it?"
Holmes snatched up the piece of paper off the desk again and narrowed his eyes at it, then he looked up at Lestrade brightly.
"Oh yes. A most unusual problem, quite unique. I believe Watson shall, if he chooses to write this one up, have a treat for his readers," Holmes enthused as Lestrade and I stared at him open mouthed.
Eventually, receiving no further elucidation, Lestrade began to shuffle out of the door. "I shall await your word then Mr. Holmes? Before the day is out?"
I could not help but be amused by the taunting disbelief that Lestrade allowed to creep into his words even when his hopes rested so heavily upon my friend's talents.
"Have you really solved it already Holmes?" I asked incredulously when Lestrade had departed.
"As good as," Holmes replied as he walked back over to the chalk board, "tonight Peter Hollis shall lead us to the killer and resolve this case."
I reached for our copy of the Bible and started looking up references as Holmes scribbled away on the board.
"If the quote is from Deuteronomy one would expect at least some of the numbers to refer to that chapter. The fourth book of Moses is commonly called Numbers and it immediately precedes Deuteronomy, I wonder if that has any bearing?" I remarked as I flipped through the pages, "Deuteronomy is concerned with the Ten Commandments, and the number ten appears often enough in that selection."
I proceeded to try and match numbers to words and make some sense of the puzzle until I looked up from my unsuccessful task to see Holmes fixing me with one of his despairing expressions.
"As you readily observe Watson, the numbers from the message do not correspond to the Bible, this tells us that the Bible has no relation to the message. I ask you to put the mark of the cross and the Biblical quotation out of your mind."
"But those factors seem to be the very crux of the matter Holmes!"
"They are a strong indication, but not of the solution to this code, for a code is what it is."
"But the quotation!" I persisted.
"Lestrade tells us that he can trace no connection between the victims. He may not be inspired, Watson, but he is thorough. It occurs to me that the points about this case which suggest a connection have set the official forces so strongly on a track that offers up no hope of success that they could very well have been placed there for precisely that purpose."
"Placed there by two men of different heights?"
"Placed there by one man, in two different states of mind."
On seeing my perplexed expression Holmes walked to his chalk board and transcribed the numbers on one side, he then reached up and wrote the Biblical quotation above them.
"Cursed be he that removeth his neighbour's landmark."
31.10 40.10 36
31.24 10.2 38.10 16.10 24.32 26.10
39.16 18.38 46.18 24.24 14.30 30.28
42.28 40.18 24.50 30.42 8.10
45.2 36.10 16.30 42.38 10
13.18 24.8 37.40 36.10 10.40
26.18 8.28 18.14 16.40
40.30 26.30 36.36 30.46
"It is natural to write at eye level," said Holmes, "if this man wrote a coded message onto the wall in the first instance he may have then looked at the scene and realised his communication too exposed. So he writes the quote above, puts marks in between the numbers to suggest references to the Bible and finishes it all off with a crucifix on the forehead of the victim.
In the second instance he already knows he will write quote and code together."
Holmes side stepped and first tapped out the quote followed by the series of numbers in his precise hand and then stepped back from the board.
"Lestrade recalls a difference of about five inches, mine is closer to three due to writing on the smooth surface of the board as opposed to the rough tablet of brick in which this killer left his mark."
In his usual manner Holmes had effortlessly cast light into the darkness.
"Brilliant!" I exclaimed.
"Elementary," he countered, "but still just the beginning. We now have the code before us."
"As I remember Holmes, I have already published an account of your tackling code in "The Adventure of the Dancing Men"."
"In that case the code was intended to pass for a childish scrawl when viewed by any uninitiated person who might have come across it. The code our murderer uses here requires this elaborate subterfuge to protect it, inferring that the meaning can be easily discerned by those who might look for it. There are twenty two different numbers here, they range from two to fifty. If we approach methodically all should be reduced to it's proper place.
Due to the length of the piece we may assume that a fair spread of the alphabet is represented. A system of two possible numbers for each letter depending on it being lower or upper case naturally suggests itself, with a total of fifty-two numbers involved in all. Alternatively a system of numbers chosen between one and fifty at random may have been used. A clever twist to prevent the clumsiest attempts to read it but still childishly simple, not intended to be used in this sinister manner, it was used here as a last resort."
"Why do you suppose that this message implicates or is aimed at Hollis?"
"Watson, put yourself in the mind of a murderer exacting a terrible revenge upon a group of people."
"You do have some grisly requests, Holmes."
"You wish to warn certain individuals that you are coming for them. Would you do so by writing a message on the wall of a crime scene in the hope that they will just happen to pass before police arrive and so see it?"
I shook my head.
"The code was aimed at someone who the murderer thought would see it for certain. Since the most likely reason for not reacting to a message of this type would be ignorance of it and since the message continues to appear we can assume that the message has not come to the attention of the intended recipient. We then discover that the full list of persons usually informed of such events have for various reasons not been told."
"Hence your question to Lestrade?"
"Bravo Watson!"
"But Holmes, how do you know that it is Hollis the murderer aims these communications at?"
"The first and foremost principle of code is, as you know, that the letter E is most common in any pattern of text in most cases. This is a fairly long message, the rule should almost certainly hold true. As you noticed, but failed to interpret correctly, ten is the most common number, I therefore took that to be E in lower case.
I could see from a cursory glance that the first section of letters could well be the name of the person it was addressed to. Out of the people we know to be in the dark over this matter the name 'Peter' fits the first line, with these letters I continued to search for meaning."
Holmes began to rub out numbers on the board and add letters as he explained his reasoning.
P.e t.e.r
P.24 e.2 38.e 16.e 24.32 26.e
39.16 18.38 46.18 24.24 14.30 30.28
42.28 t.18 24.50 30.42 8.30
45.2 r.e 16.30 42.38 e
13.18 24.8 37.t r.e e.t
m.18 8.28 18.14 16.t
t.30 26.30 r.r 30.46
"I quickly perceived that thirty-seven represented an upper case S and that the last line looked auspiciously like the word "tomorrow". It is here we must take care for the childish trap laid out for us, thirty-seven represents a capital S as it stands for "Street" and that the P in "Peter" is a capital. Then we slot in the letters appertaining to "tomorrow"."
Holmes dextrously exchanged numbers for letters and then stood back from the board.
P.e t.e.r
P.24 e.2 38.e 16.e 24.32 m.e
39.16 18.38 w.18 24.24 14.o o.28
42.28 t.18 24.50 o.42 8.o
45.2 r.e 16.o 42.38 e
13.18 24.8 S.t r.e e.t
m.18 8.28 18.14 16.t
t.o m.o r.r o.w
We both stared at the emerging message until a thought occurred to me.
"If it is a message aimed at someone in the official force, then surely it would be either an appeal or a piece of blackmail. So it would be something along the lines of "send payment", or "help me"," I suggested.
"Please help me!" Holmes cried as he pounced on the board again, "excellent Watson! Thirty-eight represents lower case s, that is indicative to a pattern. Thirty-two is lower case p, by Jove Watson! We have the key! The lower case is taken by the number preceding the capital! Forty-two must be U, making "Warehouse". Then we have an I to make "this" which leaves us in no doubt that the second to last line is the word "midnight", the time of the assignation. Fifty must be Y."
After some hurried scribbling Holmes triumphantly slammed in a G in place of the number thirteen.
"His use of capitals is a little uneven," Holmes commented, "most likely he was aiming to complicate his code." Holmes stood back from the message once more.
P.e t.e.r
P.l e.a s.e h.e l.p m.e
T.h i.s w.i l.l g.o o.n
u.n t.i l.y o.u d.o
W.a r.e h.o u.s e
G.i l.d S.t r.e e.t
m.i d.n i.g h.t
t.o m.o r.r o.w
"The message gives the killer's whereabouts to the man who can read them, that implies trust."
"Or blackmail," I ventured.
"Do you think blackmail fits the tone of this communication Watson?"
I had to admit that it did not.
"Of course this message refers to tonight, and this time I think Peter Hollis will accept the invitation."
"Holmes, why would this murderer kill on the last night of the full moon in the case of Simpkins and then the first night of the full moon a month later? It seems most odd unless it is mere coincidence."
"Oh that is simple enough. I must step out briefly Watson, while I am gone I suggest you ready your revolver, we have a dangerous night ahead of us."
As we set out that night our breath furrowed upwards in the chilly air as a fog settled. The rain had paused but residual damp gleamed on the dark pavements under every pool of light as we passed the lamps, winter's approach was in motion.
"Just look at it Watson,' Holmes said, 'London is indeed a dangerous wilderness if ever there was one. What shall we find in its shadows tonight?"
"Well according to the majority of London and the sensational press we are up against a werewolf, a man who will turn into a ferocious beast in the presence of that," I replied as I swung my cane towards the moon. It was just less than full and loomed sinister and bright through the fog.
"Dear me Watson, not taking a turn for the supernatural are you?"
"Not me," I said.
"I do hope you haven't melted down Mrs. Hudson's best silver to make bullets?"
"No, standard issue Boxer cartridges," I replied with a laugh.
We took a cab to rendezvous with Lestrade who had dutifully answered his summons from Holmes and was pacing around with two stout police officers when we met him. My companion was, as ever, reticent to answer questions when we were on the chase and despite my faith in him I could not help but feel uneasy at being in the centre of Brixton on a night when such a horror lurked in the darkness.
"People have been told not to wander out after dark," said Lestrade, "but there are always some who will. Now Mr. Holmes, I must know what you intend for us to do. Are we to simply wait here until this murderer wanders past us?"
"We must be quiet Lestrade and cautiously make our way to the location mentioned in the coded message."
"Coded message?"
"Indeed, Lestrade. There we will wait until the appointed time when Mr. Peter Hollis is to rendezvous with the murderer."
Lestrade made an enormous fuss about the Chief of Police being implicated in anything untoward but I could see that he was worried about what the outcome of the night would be. Gild Street turned out to be part of a square with the warehouse to one side. There was calm and silence all around when we arrived, a silence too intense to indicate that all was well.
Holmes positioned us around the square in the deep doorways of the storage buildings, seeing as he did that the fog and lack of light afforded us more than adequate protection from sight.
"Whatever happens Lestrade, make no move until I do," Holmes instructed.
Having secured the Inspector's begrudging agreement there was nothing else for us to do but wait. The minutes of the night seemed to be hours in themselves. The harsh chill crept into my bones as I strained my eyes into the fog. Every now and again the bright disc of the moon could clearly be seen through the cloudy night sky and I would make ready for any sound in the aching stillness.
All of a sudden a series of sharp steps sounded through the night and a man strode into the centre of the square. He made no efforts to conceal himself and did not seem to have a weapon at the ready but his breath could be seen to come rapidly in the night air and he was clearly anxious.
It was then that a low moan arose from out of the darkness. Hollis whipped around but still made no move to arm himself, slowly a dark shape loomed out of the shadows. Whatever the night's resolution was to be it now came fast upon us, I rested my hand on the butt of my revolver and carefully drew in a deep breath. At that moment there came a cry from the opposite direction, I realised in dismay that it was the lopsided singing of drunken revellers and that they seemed to be heading towards the square. The shrouded and mysterious figure shot back into the darkness.
Holmes looked with desperate exasperation in the direction of the singing and then back to the scene, Hollis whispered something into the shadows that sounded like an entreaty and then turned to face his unwelcome intruders as they came upon the square.
The group consisted of four men and when they spotted Hollis it was clear that their intentions towards him were hostile, Hollis produced a gun and held it up.
"Chief of Police! You will do well to be on your way," he shouted.
For a moment it looked as though the men would comply however at that moment there came a series of terrible snarling noises from the dark alleyway behind Hollis. All on the scene, exposed and hidden, froze and stared transfixed with stupefied horror as from out of the shadows the figure reappeared and staggered into the light.
We found ourselves looking upon a man of terrible proportions, he had a wide uneven head which was so overcome with a tumorous growth on the right that it lolled grotesquely to the side with the weight of it. The left side of his face was curiously unmarred, had it not been I would have had a hard time to declare him human. The noise he made however, was anything but human, he waved his long ungainly limbs over his head in a corybantic rage and gave out long frenzied screams. He let out a final howl before he bounded forward with the ferocity of a lion.
In a moment he was on top of one of the drunken men, having knocked two to the ground in the wake of his pounce. A shot rang out and in an instant Holmes was forward on the scene keeping all to their places while Lestrade's men pulled the monstrous man off his victim who was shouting loudly with the pain of what turned out to be several broken ribs.
A brief enough examination of the deformed man proved him to be dead, killed by a bullet from the gun of Peter Hollis who stood looking at the crumpled form on the floor as though his whole world had crashed down around him.
"The religious allusions at the scene were indeed the crux of the business, but far from presenting insurmountable complications they made the only real guiding light," Holmes explained when we were back at Baker Street.
"I hypothesised that as my guide had lit a false passageway for me, if I took the opposite route, by simple psychology I should be going in a promising direction.
Establishing the identity of the murderer was not difficult, there were no escaped lunatics or criminals reported who would fit the details of the case. Where else could a man who possessed beyond human strength be hiding? Where would he not stand out except the side shows? This is the time of year when country fairground performers are forced by the weather to seek lodging and show places in the cities. Hence his attack towards the end of the lunar cycle in the case of Simpkins, who he killed on the night of his arrival in London, and then he killed again with the renewal of the full moon."
"But why attack on the full moon?" I asked.
"A popular act during the summer country fairs was "The Werewolf". A gentleman who presents only one side of himself to the audience and charms them with literary quotations. Then upon the stage a representation of the moon appears and he transforms, turning his body to the opposite side and revealing his deformity to the audience and roaring at them. This act was Fredrick Hollis. At some stage he tragically began to believe that this transformation was real, his act was placed behind bars and the performances became less frequent, though none the less popular.
The first murder passed by as Lestrade told us, hardly speculated upon due to the nature of the victim. The second however was a different matter, the whole of London was talking about a werewolf who had killed on the full moon, it was clear to Fredrick's manager that this was no coincidence. The manager, a Mr. Gregory Moore, barred the doors against Fredrick's return. I had that from his own lips this afternoon and I have no doubt that he shall repeat it readily enough for the benefit of the official forces."
"It has been a dark and terrible thing from start to finish. What a life that poor man had and how tragic that others should have to end with him."
"It was his deformities that kept him both included and excluded from the society he longed to be part of," Holmes said, as he scooped up his violin, "it is perhaps a fault of human kind that we excite in the dark and terrible and so encourage it."
"What will come of it all?" I asked Holmes.
"A charge against Gregory Moore is certain, it is perhaps better for Fredrick Hollis that he will not face the aftermath himself. He was a clever man and if we are to go by his act in it's original form, a very charming and personable one. The thought of all the things he could have done where it not for the body which contained him drove him mad."
"A remarkable man, by all accounts," I said quietly.
Holmes cast aside his violin, seeming to have lost the urge to play, "what a remarkable man he could have been, but stagnation is a terrible thing."'
Holmes' eye came to rest upon his morocco case on the shelf before briefly meeting mine and then he turned to look out of the window, down into the street where early morning was bringing about the first signs of day to day activity and routine. While my friend was occupied with his thoughts I took to the papers and began his search for him, the only effective medicine I could administer and the only way to stave off his need for the alternative.