Hello, viewers! Long time no see, eh? Anyway, the story. As you've guessed, it's Sherlock Holmes. This story is an adaptation of the Frogwares game "Sherlock Holmes and the Mystery of the Mummy" entitled "The Adventure of the Five Statuettes". Well, it's only sort of based on that game. Okay, really, the only things in common are the names. Our story begins.
()()()
The Adventure of the Five StatuettesIn the early summer of 1899 I encountered a case of absolutely singular interest. Although I have stated of almost every case that I encounter that it is singular, this truly may be the most singular case I have yet encountered.
For the past while, my associate, Sherlock Holmes, had not encountered any case that could be considered interesting at all. I have chosen not to write these down because they are not only quite boring, but show almost no display of his talents of deduction and reasoning, with the possible exception of the case of the heirloom watch, which I have written down.
As Holmes' mind needs interesting work to function, he had gone back to the cocaine, and was injecting his seven per-cent solution of cocaine when a knock came at the door.
When I opened the door, I was surprised to see Holmes' recent cousin-by-marriage, Elizabeth Montcalfe. She was wearing her electric-blue dress, but she seemed especially depressed, judging by the way her head was pointing down.
"Elizabeth!" I cried. "What brings you here at this hour?"
"If you would allow me to come inside, I will explain everything to you and Holmes."
When she came in and sat down, she began explaining why she was here. Holmes was listening intently, hoping that the case would contain something of vague interest.
"Several months ago, my father, Lord Montcalfe, had taken violently ill. The doctor said he had almost no chance of surviving. Just one week before I was married to your cousin, he died in his bed, with me beside him. Before he had taken ill, he was working on a museum built into his mansion, meant for exhibiting the great treasures of the pharaoh Khapaeseth. The world may never see them now.
"Just before he died, he said he had to tell me something of grave importance.
" 'Elizabeth,' he began, 'As you know, I have taken a great many things from the tomb of Khapaeseth. I was not meant to do this thing. He's coming for me.
" 'What do you mean, father?
"He rose from his bed, though just barely. 'The mummy! I've activated the curse, and he's coming for me!
" 'Father, you must lie down!
"Then, he clutched his chest. 'The curse has found me! Elizabeth, you must not enter, the basement, for that is where the treasure is, and where the treasure is, the mummy…' He fell back onto the bed, and I knew he
was dead.
"I'm very sorry," Said I.
"But something was not right, I know it! My father was in perfect health, and couldn't have caught disease during the prime of his life! He was an active man, you see. I just don't see how a healthy man in his prime could have died of disease. And this nonsense about a mummy's curse is especially strange, because my father was a rational, logical man. He would never accept something as ludicrous as some ancient superstition for his troubles.
"Perhaps he was poisoned, and made an improper connection?" I suggested.
"That is possible, Watson; but with the lack of data, it would be foolish to hypothesize anything. Let us go to the mansion and investigate further.
"I shall get my coat.
"And I shall get us a coach," Said Holmes, getting up from his seat.
"What shall I do?" Questioned Elizabeth.
"Stay here," Said Holmes. "I'll return at five o' clock.
We walked down the stairs, and hailed a cab upon leaving.
"Where to?" Asked the driver, who was awash with the pungent scent of alcohol.
"The Montcalfe mansion, if you please.
"That's pretty far away. Is half a guinea fine?
"Fine." Said my companion.
Holmes paid his fare, and the driver drove drunkenly fast towards our destination. About one hour later, we arrived at the Montcalfe residence, a beautiful mansion of such quality I had rarely seen.
"Wait here," Said my companion. "Oh, and by the way, your girlfriend is undoubtedly very sorry for her outburst, and you should probably try to make amends.
As we walked to the front door, I ventured to ask how Holmes determined that man had a falling out. I already knew that he must have observed, but I was too busy thinking of the case to attempt his methods.
"It was simplicity itself, Watson. Firstly, you undoubtedly noticed that he reeked of alcohol. Secondly, I was able to notice him hiding a small photograph of a beautiful woman in his jacket. Thirdly, his face had slight bruising, about twenty four hours old. From this, I was able to deduce that…"
"His flame had gotten angry at him, assaulted him, and he had taken to drinking. All this must have happened last night, for the bruise to still be there.
"Precisely, Watson. Now, let us begin investigating the case at hand.
Holmes rang the large door-bell, sending a deep ringing throughout the whole manor. In moments, a well dressed, albeit somewhat short, butler came to the door.
"Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson, I presume?
"Indeed," Said I.
"Excellent. Elizabeth told me of your probable arrival. Come, sit down.
The butler directed towards three sofas arranged around a small table. Me and my companion took a seat, as the butler had requested.
"Do you have any questions?" Asked he, sitting down on the sofa across from us.
"Yes." Said my companion. "First of all, was Lord Montcalfe exhibiting any strange tendencies before he caught ill?
"Certainly not; Lord Montcalfe was the epitome of mental health.
"Very good. What were some symptoms of his illness?
"Oh, the usual symptoms. High fever, shaking, that sort of thing.
"Interesting. Now, my friend, Dr. Watson, is obviously a doctor. What would you say those symptoms are a sign of?
"The common flu, of course.
"Do you have anymore questions?
"Yes. Has Lord Montcalfe received any letters since his death?
"Three, in fact. I have not opened them, but I did put them in his bedroom, which is upstairs.
"Those are all the questions I have. You may leave.
The butler got up from his seat, and left for somewhere else in the manor. Holmes and I got up as well.
"Watson, that interview all but confirmed my suspicions.
"What suspicions, Holmes?
"That Lord Montcalfe is still alive, of course!
"But how can that be? Elizabeth saw him die!
"Then Lord Montcalfe must be a very good actor, if he was able to convince her so well. Think of it, Watson. The so-called epitome of mental and physical health, suddenly believing in ancient curses and dying of some common flu? Do these points not strike you as suspicious?
"Well, I will admit that such an occurrence does strike me as quite odd, but what is the point, Holmes?
"I don't yet know why somebody of such high class as Lord Montcalfe would fake his own death, and as I said before, I will not hypothesize until I have more data. Come, Watson, we will now investigate the bedroom.
"Excellent!
"Indeed. Now, we must search for the Lord's bedroom.
Holmes and I went up the grand central staircase, and through the main door.
"Well, we are in the upstairs hallway." Said my companion. "Now, we must find the bedroom. Let's see, bath-room, Elizabeth's quarters…Ah! Here it is!" The door in question was at the end of the hall. On the front of the door was the monogram of Montcalfe himself.
"Blast!" Cried Holmes, trying in vain to open the door. "The door has been locked. We must find another way in.
"I shall go ask the butler for the key.
"No need, Watson. I made sure to bring my lock-pick with me.
"You have a lock-pick?
"Indeed." Holmes took out a long, thin metal piece from his coat-pocket, and in seconds, the door was opened.
The room itself, simply put, seemed like it should have been in Africa rather than England. The entire room was covered with tribal scenery, and a lions head adorned the bed.
"This is a very strange room," Said I.
"Indeed, it is, Watson. But we don't have time to admire this garish scenery. We must find those three letters that Lord Montcalfe received!
"Of course. I shall search these cabinets.
"And I the bed.
We began searching, but after almost two hours, we had not one clue as to the letters locations.
"Holmes, there are no letters in this room. I say we just give up.
"The butler must have lied to us.
"But why, Holmes?
"I fear that this conspiracy goes deeper than I had anticipated. We should return to Baker Street so I can edit my hypothesis in light of this new evidence.
"But Holmes, we only just got here!
"And the case has changed completely.
"Oh, very well.
We exited the room, walked down the hallway and stairs, and went for our cab. To our great shock, the cab was not there.
"Holmes! The cab!
"Is everybody taking part in this bizarre conspiracy?" Holmes asked, sarcasm in his voice.
"I suppose we are stuck here for some time. At the very least, you'll be able to continue your investigation of these bizarre events.
"I suppose."
We turned back around and began the walk back to the door, but a strange noise came from the bushes, stopping us in our tracks.
"What was that?" Asked I.
"It did not sound natural, Watson. Be ready.
I held my ground, as did Holmes.
After several minutes of waiting, a hideous mummy burst from the shrubbery, screaming some ancient curse.
"Holmes! The mummy is real!
"Quickly, Watson, inside!
We rushed for the door, and immediately after opening it closed it again. The mummy seemed to have left, but we were both extremely shaken.
"Lord Montcalfe spoke the truth!" Said I. "There is a mummy!"
"What's going on here?" Asked the butler, coming in from a side door.
"It appears we were just attacked by a man dressed as a mummy, and rather poorly disguised, might I add.
"A mummy!" Cried the butler.
"No, it was a man poorly dressed as a mummy.
"How could you tell?" Asked I.
"Simplicity itself, Watson. Egyptian mummies were wrapped very tightly, and had the arms crossed against the chest. This so-called mummy had several bandages falling away from the body; as the bandages are very strong, and no loose ends were left, it was probably a vague attempt to frighten us.
"Of course!" I cried. "I should have realized it. I suppose I was so frightened I ignored what was right in front of me!
"Indeed. I am beginning to think that this mystery goes deeper than the faked death of Lord Montcalfe.
This revelation shocked the butler.
"Lord Montcalfe faked his own death!
"Yes, he did. The only question that remains is: why did he fake is own death? What motivation did he have that would have made that a logical choice of action?
"None!" Cried the butler. "There are no reasons for Lord Montcalfe to make it seem like he had died! He simply went insane!
"Then why were there no letters in the bedroom?
The butler hesitated, and then came to a realization. "Of course! You must excuse me, I have a very poor memory. I thought I had put them in the bedroom, but I had them with me this whole time! Here, have them.
He handed Holmes three letters, each of them on very cheap parchment.
"Hum! A bill, a different bill…Halloa! This letter seems important!
"What does it say?" I asked.
"I will read it to you. 'Dear Mr. Montcalfe: I am still waiting for my shipment. You said it would be here last week. If I do not receive the shipment by Thursday next, you will regret it'. There is no signature, and it is dated from last week.
"The same day that Lord Montcalfe supposedly died." Said I.
"This is preposterous!" Exclaimed the butler. "Lord Montcalfe faking his own death? A living mummy? What's next? A triple murder?
"It's possible." Said Holmes. "Where was it that he told Elizabeth not to go?
"The basement." Said I.
"Then we shall go to the basement." Holmes turned to the butler. "Where is the basement, exactly?"
"I shall lead you to it." Said he.
"Excellent."
The butler began walking towards the same side door he had gone to earlier. He opened it, and said, "Through this door is the basement. Good luck."
Holmes and I promptly walked through the door, revealing to us a dank, miserable hallway. Continuing down it, we eventually came across a wine cellar. Lying in the middle of the room was, strangely enough, a bed and a table.
"Somebody has been here, Holmes!
"Yes; none other than Lord Montcalfe. He must have hidden here to avoid whoever he was sending the shipment to. Aha!" Holmes held up an extremely filthy bandage. "Here is the so-called mummy. Now all that remains is figuring out what exactly Lord Montcalfe was delivering. Come, Watson, help me lift up this bed.
I walked over to the mattress, and grabbed one side of it. Holmes grabbed the other, and we lifted it away. Under the bed, a hole was carved into the floor, and lying in it was a statuette.
"Interesting!" Said Holmes, picking it up. "It is Anubis, ancient Egyptian god of the dead. Watson, have you read the papers recently?
"Certainly.
"Then you have heard the story of the statuette that was stolen from an exhibition of ancient Egyptian artifacts just two days ago?
"Of course! Is this that same statuette?
"It could be. Wait! The wall! There is an outline of a door on it!" Holmes walked to the opposite wall. Looking where he was, I saw the faint outline of a door.
"There is only one way to find out where it leads!" he said, stepping back.
"Holmes, what the devil are you doing!
My question was soon answered. His elbow out, he ran at the wall. The door easily opened with the sheer force.
"Good heavens!" Said I, looking in.
It seemed to be some bizarre laboratory. The air was thick with the smell of laudanum, but there was none to be found in the room.
The room itself was very plain. An empty bookshelf was against one wall, and in the center was a table.
"Look!" Cried Holmes. "On the table are three other statuettes, exactly like the one we have already found!
"Incredible!" Said I.
"Indeed it is." Came a voice from behind us.
"Who's there?" I turned around, and was shocked to find the butler, pointing a gun at us.
"You may be wondering what is happening here. I shall tell you.
"Elizabeth told you how she was there when her father died. What she did not tell you was that I was outside the door, listening to their conversation.
"The instant I heard of an ancient treasure, I knew that I had to get it, curse or not. Thus, I ventured into the basement while Elizabeth was mourning. I discovered this room, and I found that behind the bookcase were five grooves, corresponding to the statuette which you are holding.
"I was able to find four of them hidden throughout the manor without much difficulty, but the final statuette was still missing. Then I realized that the Standard had recently advertised for an exhibition of several ancient Egyptian artifacts. Among them was the final statuette, said to have been donated by Lord Montcalfe himself. I knew this was my chance. I snuck in at night, took the statuette from it's hiding place, and took it back here. Now, if you would be good enough to hand me that statuette, I can finally discover the ancient treasure of Khapaeseth, and become richer than Lord Montcalfe ever was.
"Don't you get it, you fool?" Said Holmes suddenly. "There is no treasure! Lord Montcalfe was lying about this whole thing so Elizabeth would not discover that he was smuggling laudanum to rich buyers! The mummy, the treasure, the curse; it was all a great lie!
"I refuse to believe you!" Cried the butler. "I will show you that there is a treasure, and that Lord Montcalfe is truly dead!
He pushed the bookcase aside, revealing the grooves he had spoken of. Picking up the three other statuettes, he placed them in the grooves.
"Now, Mr. Holmes, place that final statuette in it's groove and tell me that there is no treasure!
Holmes did so, and a slight click came from behind the wall. The wall swung out like a door, and the butler was shocked beyond any rational thought. Inside the room was not treasure, but a variety of beakers and flasks. Sitting in the middle of the room was none other than Lord Montcalfe.
"What!" Cried the butler. "How could this be! The treasure…"
"Does not exist," Montcalfe interjected. "It was all a lie. What you see going on before you is how I had gotten so much money so quickly. It was not through the stock market, as I told you and Elizabeth. I was smuggling laudanum I had created through a method I alone had discovered, and I alone knew about.
"I was going along very nicely, and just one week ago, I had gotten an order from a very high-profile man for a large order of laudanum, for an even larger sum. I had gotten half of it done, when disaster struck. The supplier of my materials burned down, and I didn't have nearly enough materials to complete the rest of the order. When I received the threatening letter, I knew that I would have to go into hiding to avoid disaster. Thus, I faked my own death, and to keep Elizabeth from discovering me, I told her of a fictitious curse. I had prepared a disguise as a mummy to scare people off, but you apparently saw right through it. I got in and out of this room through a secret passage in the garden that only I knew of. Oh, what would Elizabeth think of me!
"We could find out, but unfortunately, our cab-driver left.
"Oh, yes. I frightened him away as well.
"Well, now what?" I asked. "We don't have a cab, so we can't get back to Baker Street to tell Elizabeth what's happened!
"I feel that all we can do is go back up to the foyer and wait there for her to come looking for us.
Thus, we did so. It took some time for Elizabeth to return with a cab, but eventually, she did so.
"Elizabeth!" Greeted Holmes, walking out the door along with me. "You've returned with a cab!"
"Yes. When you didn't return at five o' clock, I got worried, and decided to return to the manor.
"There was no need to worry, Elizabeth. Our cab was simply scared off by the so-called mummy."
Lord Montcalfe walked out the door, eliciting a great shock from Elizabeth.
"Father? How can this be?
"I'll explain it to you," said Holmes. "You see, your father had been engaged in a less-than-wholesome business to give his own mix of laudanum to rich customers. When his supplier burned down, just while he was working on a particularly large batch, he faked his own death, and created a ridiculous story about curses and treasure to keep you from discovering him. However, your butler thought there really was a treasure, and thus stole a statuette from an exhibition, which Lord Montcalfe had donated to ensure that his secret room couldn't be opened by anybody.
"Oh, Elizabeth!" Cried Lord Montcalfe. "What must you think of me, now that you know of my wretched hidden life!
"I do not really know what to think. What I do know is that we should return to Baker Street, and contact the police.
And so it was that Lord Montcalfe's laudanum smuggling business was uncovered and deflated, and a man of great importance was shamed, due to the discovery of his opium addiction.
()()()
Well, there you have it. I know that this would barely be one-fifth of a normal Sherlock Holmes story, but I just wanted to tell a story, and this is it. I still have some Sherlock Holmes stuff planned; mainly a ridiculous, unrealistic crossover, surprise, surprise. Until then, AwkwardVulpix, over and out.