A Case of Identity - Miss Mary Sutherland

Author's note

I heard a radio adaptation of this Sherlock Holmes short story the other night and I absolutely hated the ending. I usually love Sherlock Holmes stories but not this time. I can usually overlook nineteenth century snobbishness and sexism but not this time and I really wanted to change the ending. So here goes.

Holmes returned from the stairs, holding the riding crop and a faint flush on his brown cheeks.

'What will you tell Miss Sutherland?' I asked.

'Nothing,' Holmes replied, laying aside the riding crop and dropping into an armchair.

'Nothing? You cannot be serious,' I protested.

'I am perfectly serious, Watson. You may remember the old Persian saying, "There is danger for him who taketh the tiger cub, and danger also for whoso snatches a delusion from a woman." There is as much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much knowledge of the world.'

'I don't care what Hafiz says or Horace for that matter. This is wrong, Holmes. Miss Sutherland came to you to ask you to solve the mystery of her vanished fiancé. You have solved it. She is your client and you have a duty to her.'

I thought of my own dear Mary and how her life might have been blighted if such a scurvy trick had been played on her. The strength of my feelings made me leap to my feet and stride about the apartment. I turned to face him. 'Besides, she has a right to know what monstrous trick has been played on her by her mother, her own mother! And that villain, her stepfather.'

'I predict that she will not believe me and will cling to her delusions.'

'That would be her choice and you cannot know that for certain,' I answered.

The curl of his lip made me sure that he did think he knew for certain.

'To withhold this information from her is a dereliction of your duty,' I continued. 'You are not fulfilling your professional duty for which you were paid – namely, to investigate the matter to which she set you, provide her with the results and let her decide what to do with them.'

Holmes stared up at me for a long moment before saying, 'I am astounded, Watson. You have bested me in an argument. You are quite right and I shall write to Miss Sutherland immediately and request her to visit me.'

I collapsed into the other armchair, amazed at the outcome.

I was fortunate enough to be present when Miss Sutherland came to call on Holmes. We were enjoying a cup of Mrs Hudson's excellent tea when the doorbell rang and shortly afterwards, Mrs. Hudson ushered her into our presence. Miss Sutherland was wearing the same outfit as she had worn previously, the black jacket with black fringing, the feather boa and the hat with the jaunty red feather.

'Mr. Holmes, you have news?' Miss Sutherland asked as soon as she was over the threshold and Mrs. Hudson had retired.

'Yes, I do. But please take a seat; I think this one is the most comfortable. And will you not have a cup of tea?'

She sat down in the chair indicated by Holmes, refused the tea and gazed eagerly at him.

'Please tell me at once, Mr. Holmes, what has been become of my Hosmer?'

'You must prepare yourself for a very great shock, I am afraid,' Holmes said gravely.

'No, No! Please tell me the worst. Is he dead?'

'In a manner of speaking,' Holmes said.

Miss Sutherland gave a little shriek and turned pale.

'Are you sure you would not like a cup of hot, sweet tea?' Holmes asked.

I did not like him toying with the young woman and said, 'Holmes! If you please.'

'Very well. Miss Sutherland, your fiancé, Hosmer Angel is dead in a manner of speaking because he never existed.'

'What nonsense is this?' she exclaimed.

'Did it never occur to you how strange it was that Hosmer Angel and your stepfather, Mr. Windibank were never to be found in the same place? That Mr. Angel only appeared when your stepfather was conveniently away?'

It obviously had never occurred to her.

'What are you saying?'

'Mr. Hosmer Angel and Mr. James Windibank are one and the same person. '

'But that's not possible!'

'Indeed it is. Your stepfather disguised himself with the aid of a pair of tinted glasses, whiskers and a hoarse voice. Your short sightedness also aided him. Knowing you as well as he does, it was easy to endear himself to you.'

'But my mother told me she had met Hosmer before.'

Holmes sighed. 'That is almost the worst of it. I am afraid your mother colluded with your stepfather against you.'

'This is nonsense!' she cried.

'No, merely a very cunning and cruel trick. You yourself gave me the evidence to prove that they are the same man. The typewritten letters he sent you - did you not think it was odd that he typed his signature?'

A doubting look passed over her broad face. 'I did think it a little odd,' she faltered.

'I wrote to Mr. Windibank at his workplace and received a typewritten reply. Did you know, Miss Sutherland, that typewriters are almost as good as a man's handwriting? No two write exactly alike. So imagine my interest when I realised that the letter from your stepfather had been written on the same typewriter as those from your lover.'

He went across to the table and picked up several letters.

'If you examine them, you will see that there is some little slurring over of the letter e and a defect in the tail of the r. There are fourteen other characteristics but those are the most obvious.'

Miss Sutherland pored over the letters for some time. Then she looked up, her lips quivering, 'there must be some other explanation,' she said, 'there must!'

'There is none,' Holmes informed her.

'Then how did he disappear outside the church?'

'The old trick of stepping in at one door of a four-wheeler and out at the other.'

Miss Sutherland stared first at the letters and then at Holmes and myself.

'No, I cannot believe that Hosmer does not exist and my mother and stepfather could be so cruel!'

She sprang up, threw the letters aside so they fluttered to the carpet and rushed out of the room. We heard her hurrying down the stairs and then the sound of the front door being wrenched open and then slammed shut.

Holmes sat down and reached for his pipe. 'I told you so, Watson.'

I sighed. 'At least, you have fulfilled your duty, Holmes. Another cup of tea?'

It was nearly an hour later than we heard the doorbell ring again. Mrs. Hudson knocked on Holmes' door and opened it. To our surprise, it was Miss Sutherland. She advanced into the room.

'I have come to apologise, Mr. Holmes,' she said.

Holmes waved her apology aside. 'No need. You had received most distressing news.'

'I have thought it over and realised that you have told me the truth, unpalatable as it is. I have decided to no longer make my home with my mother and stepfather; I have lost all trust and confidence in them. They do not deserve my money.'

'I think you are a very brave and sensible young woman. And as I said to you before, a young woman who has a hundred a year and can earn her own living, can afford to travel a little. I would encourage you to spend some time travelling and give yourself time to recover.'

I heartily assented to this. 'I am sure some sea air and a change of scenery would do you the world of good, Miss Sutherland. And please do not allow this unfortunate experience to cause you to think poorly of all men. We are not all scoundrels.'

'I will try not to although it is very hard when I think how my own mother and stepfather have betrayed me.' A little sob escaped her.

'There are still good people in the world,' I assured her.

'Thank you Dr. Watson and thank you, Mr. Holmes.'

She made her farewells and left.

'Do you think she will be all right, Holmes?' I asked.

'Oh, I think so. Her fair personal advantages and her little income will win her many friends and suitors, I am sure. Now, shall I ring for more tea or shall we have something a little stronger?"