(Being a previously unpublished extract from the reminiscences of John H
Watson MD)
It was April 27th, 1891. Holmes and I sat in the bar of the hotel in
Belgium, sipping our Brandies and talking about our recent flight from
Professor Moriarty as we awaited the telegram which would tell us that
Scotland Yard had succeeded in rounding up the last members of the
Professor's gang.
"Once this case is finally over," remarked Holmes, " and I have crowned
my career by the capture or extinction of the most dangerous and capable
criminal in Europe, then I shall retire from detective work. There
shall be little joy for me in continuing this career much longer."
"But Holmes," I protested, "just because this has been the biggest
challenge of your career so far, does not mean that you shan't go on to
face even greater challenges in the future."
"Good old Watson," he chuckled. "You are right, and yet ennui was not
what I feared. My biggest challenge would be keeping pace with the
future itself."
"I do not understand."
"We live in changing times, my dear Watson, and the consulting detective
must change with them. What use is there in being able to identify a
clerk by his shirt cuffs if, in a few years time all clerical work is
not handwritten but typed? Or if cuffs are made in such a way that they
do not wear out so easily?"
"But even so Holmes --" I began.
"No, my mind is made up. For some time now, I have been intending to
look into the problems furnished by nature rather than those more
superficial ones for which our artificial state of society has created.
Only the continuing presence of Professor Moriarty has prevented me from
doing so."
"Excuse moi, mon ami, but are they truly as artificial as you claim?"
The new speaker was a young Belgian, a small man with a large moustache.
He approached our table and Holmes gestured towards an empty chair. The
newcomer accepted this invitation and he sat down. He introduced
himself, and added:
"I have recently joined the Belgian police force because I hope to
become a detective. What interests me about such work is not your dull,
scientific tasks of analysing shirt-cuffs or tobacco ash. Mais non,
c'est la psychologie. Using the little grey cells of my mind to enter
the mind of someone else - the criminal."
"Pray, continue." Holmes smiled to himself, no doubt reflecting on his
recent battle of wits against Moriarty.
"For this," the little Belgian added, twirling his moustache, "it is the
imagination that should be important, not the science, and imagination
is something which will never become out of date."
Holmes paused for a moment then replied, "You have a capital point,
there. Moriarty is a mathematician; he understands numbers, equations,
and theorems. He lacks the imagination to understand people and that is
why he shall be defeated tonight."
Holmes and our new friend continued to discuss various aspects of
detection and psychology until we were interrupted by the pageboy
bringing a telegram. Holmes tore it open, and then with a bitter curse
hurled it into the grate.
"I might have known it!" he groaned. "He has escaped!"
"Moriarty?" I asked.
"They have secured the whole gang with the exception of him. He has
given them the slip. Of course, I had assumed that he would have
returned to London and attempt to block the police operation. I was
wrong. So much for psychology! Perhaps I should stick to facts in
future, after all."
It would be tempting to leave the story there, yet this encounter had a
curious epilogue. As the reader may already know, after Holmes had
defeated the evil Professor at the Reichenbach Falls he made his way
secretly to Tibet. Once there he spent much of his time studying
meditation in a monastery, learning more about himself so he might know
more about others. It would seem to have succeeded, since I had never
known my friend to be in better form, both mental and physical, than in
the year following his return.
_____
Holmes & Watson created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Hercule Poirot created by Agatha Christie
Any original content is mine.
Watson MD)
It was April 27th, 1891. Holmes and I sat in the bar of the hotel in
Belgium, sipping our Brandies and talking about our recent flight from
Professor Moriarty as we awaited the telegram which would tell us that
Scotland Yard had succeeded in rounding up the last members of the
Professor's gang.
"Once this case is finally over," remarked Holmes, " and I have crowned
my career by the capture or extinction of the most dangerous and capable
criminal in Europe, then I shall retire from detective work. There
shall be little joy for me in continuing this career much longer."
"But Holmes," I protested, "just because this has been the biggest
challenge of your career so far, does not mean that you shan't go on to
face even greater challenges in the future."
"Good old Watson," he chuckled. "You are right, and yet ennui was not
what I feared. My biggest challenge would be keeping pace with the
future itself."
"I do not understand."
"We live in changing times, my dear Watson, and the consulting detective
must change with them. What use is there in being able to identify a
clerk by his shirt cuffs if, in a few years time all clerical work is
not handwritten but typed? Or if cuffs are made in such a way that they
do not wear out so easily?"
"But even so Holmes --" I began.
"No, my mind is made up. For some time now, I have been intending to
look into the problems furnished by nature rather than those more
superficial ones for which our artificial state of society has created.
Only the continuing presence of Professor Moriarty has prevented me from
doing so."
"Excuse moi, mon ami, but are they truly as artificial as you claim?"
The new speaker was a young Belgian, a small man with a large moustache.
He approached our table and Holmes gestured towards an empty chair. The
newcomer accepted this invitation and he sat down. He introduced
himself, and added:
"I have recently joined the Belgian police force because I hope to
become a detective. What interests me about such work is not your dull,
scientific tasks of analysing shirt-cuffs or tobacco ash. Mais non,
c'est la psychologie. Using the little grey cells of my mind to enter
the mind of someone else - the criminal."
"Pray, continue." Holmes smiled to himself, no doubt reflecting on his
recent battle of wits against Moriarty.
"For this," the little Belgian added, twirling his moustache, "it is the
imagination that should be important, not the science, and imagination
is something which will never become out of date."
Holmes paused for a moment then replied, "You have a capital point,
there. Moriarty is a mathematician; he understands numbers, equations,
and theorems. He lacks the imagination to understand people and that is
why he shall be defeated tonight."
Holmes and our new friend continued to discuss various aspects of
detection and psychology until we were interrupted by the pageboy
bringing a telegram. Holmes tore it open, and then with a bitter curse
hurled it into the grate.
"I might have known it!" he groaned. "He has escaped!"
"Moriarty?" I asked.
"They have secured the whole gang with the exception of him. He has
given them the slip. Of course, I had assumed that he would have
returned to London and attempt to block the police operation. I was
wrong. So much for psychology! Perhaps I should stick to facts in
future, after all."
It would be tempting to leave the story there, yet this encounter had a
curious epilogue. As the reader may already know, after Holmes had
defeated the evil Professor at the Reichenbach Falls he made his way
secretly to Tibet. Once there he spent much of his time studying
meditation in a monastery, learning more about himself so he might know
more about others. It would seem to have succeeded, since I had never
known my friend to be in better form, both mental and physical, than in
the year following his return.
_____
Holmes & Watson created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Hercule Poirot created by Agatha Christie
Any original content is mine.