The Case of the Pendulum Trio

By Abby Leib

Winter was always a questionable time for my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. To my recollection, the lower the thermometer fell, the more melancholy he became. The winter of 1887 was no exception. There was a bitter chill in the air and our landlady had taken to playing hostess to Wiggins and his fellows as they searched for a temporary respite from the cold. In weather such as this, cases often were few, the frozen streets deterrent enough for the criminal, which left Holmes ill at ease.

But, as it often appeared, fortune smiled upon us, breaking this dour trend and supplying that which was missing. It was the morning of December third. Luck, happenstance and a glowing referral brought new work to our door and we were off to visit with an emissary to the Lord Aidensam at Northumberland. Soon after we boarded a train bound for Vicarian Ways, his grace's manor on the moors. The moors can be best described as faceless, neither tree, nor hill served to break the surrounding grey landscape; save perhaps the now wilted garden at the rear of the property.

It was here that the season was spent, remaining until after the first of the year, when the case was completed. There are few times I can recall I have been more pleased to lay eyes on London than after spending such time as I have on the moors. The city appeared to be unchanged with the passing of the new year.

At first it seemed that there would be some time in which to recount the case for my records, however no sooner had Holmes and I taken our normal places in the study than the door was pushed open, with some force, I might add.

"Doctor, Mister Holmes, thank goodness," she seemed to calm realizing that we had been the only ones present…or was it something more? "…and you never replied to the message I had sent, so I had to assume somethin' had gone wrong or worse."

I have to say that I was quite puzzled by this turn of events, what could possibly have happened. Holmes' behavior warranted his reputation. Although collected as ever, he was glancing at the volumes on his shelf. He seemed concerned…though what had him this state clearly was not the outburst of our landlady. But, I could only surmise that his texts had been rearranged whilst we were away.

"I'm afraid, Mrs. Hudson, that we received no such message," he set his reading back upon the bookshelf. "But whatever the problem was, I'm certain you did a splendid job in handling it." Holmes was in rare form today, his spirits lifted from the successful completion of the case, quite a change from the time of our departure.

"But tha's just the thing, Mister Holmes, it isn't somethin' that was taken care of… it was…well…"

"Perhaps I can give a better explanation, Mrs. Hudson; it isn't as though this were expected."

Unexpected would have been a bit of an understatement, but it did not seem to even phase Holmes, who stood and simply glanced at her, rather uninterested in her arrival.

Had it not been for the pendant adorning her necklace I fear I never would have recognized her. The features of a person, although triggering a sense of familiarity, often fail assist in the placement of the face, so perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the pendant itself simply was evidence to my identification. No longer did a child stand before us, but rather a young woman. The most shocking part was not that she had grown so, but that she was here.

She stood of equal height to that of Mrs. Hudson, (5'6 in ft and inches look up meters!)., her hair pulled back and neatly pinned, and radiating a certain confidence that, being combine with a sort of aloof mysterious quality, had the ability to pique the interest.

Andrea had always been a very bright child, always. Even in the days before we'd known her as…well…before we had known her to be Andrea. The way she had come to us was very strange, and in truth it was a bit of a…. To tell the truth it had been a bit of a battle. The circumstances centered in the winter several years prior. She was only a child then, three years, no older, at least that was what Wiggins reported. I was roused in the middle of the night by Mrs. Hudson, who said there was an urgent request for me at the door. It was three in the morning and standing at the door of 221B were Wiggins and the other Irregulars. Wiggins held a small boy in his arms. Needless to say they were rushed to the study immediately. Holmes was somehow roused by the commotion downstairs, and as it would happen he spent the night sitting in his chair.

Andrea, or Andre as he…er…she was introduced to us, was ill and had been in such pain that the others, who had taken care of her (who they thought to be a him) since they had found her wandering in the streets. She was the youngest and, upon closer examination I came upon an interesting realization. Of course this was news to the lads.

After consultation with Mrs. Hudson we both realized that in no way would the newly re-dubbed Andrea could be allowed to remain with the other irregulars. We were met with resistance from the lads, but after explanation from our dear landlady, and promises that they could visit whenever they wished, it was agreed upon. Andrea wanted to remain with the lads, but Wiggins, whom she appeared to look up to, set her straight.

The only true opposition was from Holmes himself, who worried that she would harm his experiments. There were concerns from Mrs. Hudson as to the possibility that the girl would harm herself with on the various chemicals that were around the study. However, after some discussion and…perhaps a few... choice words it was settled. Andrea was given the room across from my desk in the study. It had been used before for rather haphazard storage, but with assistance from the Irregulars and Mrs. Hudson's help putting together a room for a young lady, we succeeded.

Glancing to the side and seeing that Mrs. Hudson no longer looked as if she were about to fall faint, it was clear that this was the problem or issue which she had been referring to.

I must admit that I felt guilty. Had we not been away it would have been different. At the very least, perhaps Holmes would have… it was only then that I noticed he'd taken to his chemistry table… I turned back around to find that my goddaughter was…by…Holmes' chemistry table?

After a moment I turned to Mrs. Hudson and asked if there were some way I could be of assistance. With a sort of a knowing look, our landlady shook her head.

"You'll not be wantin' ta miss whatever i' is they'r doin', now will ye, Doctor? No I had the feeling not. Don't you worry yourself about it. I've got everything ready up. Got a dog's eye, pinky and perky, bangers and mash with Uncle Fred and Johnny Rudder on the side. Nothin' t' be worrin' about now." And with that she nodded good bye and walked away.

It must have been an off day. Either way I had no idea what she'd just said…or perhaps Wiggins and the other Irregulars had rubbed off on her whilst Holmes and I were working for his grace. Or perhaps…

"Or perhaps the world is simply well coming to an end Watson," Holmes interjected suddenly, startling me slightly.

It was odd, because no one had appeared to move. In all truth, no one has moved an inch. Holmes was leaning over his desk; Andrea standing behind him. Holmes looked as if he wasn't ignoring her, but on the other hand she had said nothing to him. Just looked over his shoulder at whatever he was gazing at…

Come to think of it, Holmes hadn't even moved his mouth when he'd spoken a moment ago…and neither of them was moving now.

The word frozen ran across my mind. I was nearly certain at this point that I was dreaming, but lightheadedness was not associated with dreaming. I felt like I was fading slightly. And seeing… three of my friends..

"The moors did it."

'Was that-' It was unfortunate, but the thought would be unfinished, as the next moment everything went dark.