I
Holmes was bored. Bored to death. And not without reason, as there hadn't been any alluring cases for him to try his deduction methods on, for the greater part of a month. And what concerned me the most, was not the fact that he should eventually try to stimulate his brain artificially, but the fact that he had had no basic exercise for almost a week. Every day he would wake up around twelve, eat a frugal meal and lay on the main room's settee until he went to bed again at night. Not even his fiddle he would play any more.
And so the day came when his health became considerably deteriorated by the lack of limb motion, joint rotation and muscle stretch. As for his mental state, there was no need for medical diagnosis.
"What's the use, Watson?" he would ask whenever I suggested going for a stroll, even if as short as keeping to Baker Street.
"But Homes," I replied once, "you just cannot go on like this. Anytime you might be summoned to a case and you will need all of your stamina, but your body isn't going to act on your command."
"How little you know me, my friend," he answered. "The way my body works is a peculiar one, or at least, peculiar according to medical standards. For me it's all about the brain; if it needs the rest of the body, it will start it… just like that!" he added as he snapped his fingers. "Unfortunately it doesn't work the other way around."
"Well that is just sad."
"What?"
"That you should gloat about your mind power, as I see you worse and worse every day."
"I'm telling you, Watson," he said; "the day an interesting case arouses, you'll see me in unrestrained activity, as you've seen me in better days."
"Oh, you would love to have a case right now, wouldn't you?" said I, the draft of a great idea dawning in my mind.
"Why, yes! A case as dark as not being even positive about what crime has been committed. Give me that, and I promise you a daily stroll whenever times like these should be repeated."
If I was undecided, Holmes's last words convinced me to put my idea to work; I said 'goodnight' to my friend and went to my bedroom. I wrote a letter and got into bed, but I found it difficult to fall asleep due to the excitement of wondering what the result would be. Basically, my idea consisted on writing a letter to Henry Desailles – an acquaintance of mine I had just renewed – explaining to him my friend's situation, and asking him to present a case for Holmes in the shape of a telegram, so that he left the house for an hour or so. Henry was a writer of such cunning mystery plots, that he had become a big name in England. In my letter I asked him to wire an urgent message to Holmes, in the same fashion as he had read in the chronicles I had written. I went as far as to suggest that he should use some of the ideas he considered to be 'too crazy' for a novel's plot. Finally, there was the obvious need that no real names should be mentioned.
With these thoughts in my mind, I started to fall slowly asleep. Of course, I didn't expect Holmes to experience an outstanding change with my plan, for he was sure to be disappointed after he found out that his help was not actually needed. But as a doctor, I had reached the conclusion that the activity this phoney case would force him to undertake was worth the try. Perhaps Holmes was right when he explained how his teased brain had the power to make him recover his physical health; but it was even more evident that when his mind had no action, his body got ill to the point of becoming almost vegetable. Hopefully, Henry's telegram would represent a puzzle itself, as many times Holmes had been following cases, in which he didn't take any part, with the greatest enthusiasm.