Sherlock Holmes and the Case of Virgil Silverbridge

It was a cold winter morning on the 10th of January 1885 when I arrived at 221B Baker Street. Holmes was already up and sitting in front of the fire when I entered from the windy and frost covered street. I knew from his sitting with his pipe firmly planted in his mouth that an intriguing case was already underway. The pile of rumpled newspapers and the empty teapot on the table were signs that he had been awake for quite some time, which was unusual as he is a normally late riser. Clearly, whatever was going on was complex and would take time for his brilliant mind to unravel.

"There you are, Watson, how timely of you to arrive. I was awaiting your arrival," he said waking from his trance.

"I'm glad to feel appreciated, Holmes. May I ask what has awakened you from your sleep for such a long time?"

"My good Doctor, your skills of observation are improving. I'm glad you have noticed that I've been at the go for quite some time now. Just after you left last night I received a telegram from a William Silverbridge. It is most distressing and has been consuming my energies this past night. I haven't slept at all last night, but I don't fear that it will affect me, at least for the meantime. I pray Watson, read the telegram and tell me what you think."

Holmes was right, as it was very distressing. It read:

Dear Mr. Holmes, London is well versed in your crime solving powers and at the moment I am in need of your skills. My son Virgil has been kidnapped over a week ago. I have been in contact with Scotland Yard and Inspector Lestrade is on the case, but he has failed to do anything. I am afraid that my position in the scientific community is the reason for the abduction of my son. Please come to my home on King's Road as soon as you can. I will be expecting you.

-William Silverbridge

It didn't take long for the message to sink in and I at once knew that Holmes' nocturnal efforts had been in research of our new employer. I didn't know much of Silverbridge, but I had heard his name mentioned before in talk of the sciences.

"Holmes, am I correct in assuming that you have spent the night researching our host?"

"You are quite right, Watson. I take it you don't know much about Silverbridge and I admit I didn't know all that much about him until this past night. It seems that over the years his scientific discoveries have moved him from a fairly humble scientist to a wealthy man in charge of some of the nation's best kept scientific secrets. I have the feeling that one of these quietly kept secrets may be the cause for his son's abduction. Generally in a case like this only a few know of the secrets so it could be one member of a select group who is responsible. Or, on the other hand, a series of leaks could mean that any one member of a vast majority is our man. At this point I am probably as clueless as you my dear Watson, but I intend to figure this case out."

"Well, what do you know so far in terms of our man's background?" I queried.

"William Silverbridge attended Oxford University where he studied chemistry and physics. He was the top of his class and after graduation the government hired him. Many of his formulas are still stop secret, but Silverbridge has won a selection of awards for the ones which have been published. His work is rumored to be dealing with various explosives, but his published works are on subjects such as anti-corrosives and acid-base neutralizers. I am sure that something with his government work is the key to the investigation. However, this secrecy means that our job will be all the much harder because Silverbridge isn't at liberty to release secrets of Her Majesty's Government."

"You know Holmes, this will all be too much for me. I have a hard enough time keeping up with you when we don't have to deal with covert operations."

At this point Holmes was already up from his chair and he was near the door putting on his trusty deerstalker and warm woolen cloak.

"Come along Watson, the game's afoot," he said as he threw the door open.

Upon reaching the frozen street we had only to walk half a block through the light snow until we found a hansom cab, which whisked us away to Silverbridge's abode on King's Road. Holmes was correct; Silverbridge had risen through the ranks through the government because his home was a magnificent one. It wasn't a mansion out in the countryside, but for London it was very impressive. The whole building at baker Street paled in comparison.

While I was admiring Silverbridge's domicile, Holmes had knocked on the door bringing up the servant of the house.

"May I help you?" he inquired.

"Yes, my name is Sherlock Holmes and this is my assistant Dr. John Watson. I received a telegram from Mr. Silverbridge last night asking for our help." Holmes replied.

"Ah yes, my master is expecting you. My name is Thomas Pratt, please come right on in Mister Holmes and Dr. Watson. Warm yourselves up in front of the fire while I notify Mr. Silverbridge of your arrival."

Pratt disappeared behind the door to the adjoining room, but he was only gone for a moment.

"Mr. Silverbridge will see you in his office. Right in here, if you will gentlemen," he declared.

The next room was the personal office of Mr. Silverbridge. It was quite different from the meticulously prepared entrance hallway. The office itself was standard for a scientist. There was a small laboratory set on one desk in the corner in addition to a large main desk for Silverbridge to carry out multiple functions. One wall was taken up by a huge fireplace and mantle, which was doing a fairly excellent job of heating the room at the moment. On top of the mantle were photos of the family, mostly of a young boy, presumably Virgil Silverbridge. However, these were the only normal aspects to the private study's decor. The rest of the room had Virgil's toys strewn about. There was a fort made from a sheet and two chairs as well as various other toys such as a ball and a train set. Clearly Mr. Silverbridge was very well attached to his child.

Upon our entering Mr. Silverbridge had arisen from his chair from behind his massive oak desk.

"Hello gentlemen, I am William Silverbridge. I am so very pleased that you came to assist me," he said with a sad look to his eyes.

"I am very honored to meet such a scientist of your skill," replied Holmes, "and I am sorry to have to do so on such a sad occasion. I hope you do not mind that I brought my assistant Dr. John Watson with me?"

"Not at all Mr. Holmes, I am pleased to have any extra assistance at a time such as this."

"I am well aware that some of your work tends to be secretive in nature, so I know it will be hard for you, but I need you to reveal every little detail that you can to me about your current project, anything that you think the kidnapping of your child would be worth, and, of course, Virgil himself."

"Very well Mr. Holmes. Virgil is my only child. He is seven years of age and he attends St. Bartholomew's school. Virgil's mother died when he was two years of age, so Virgil and I have always been very close. Normally I spend as much time with him as possible, but my work has been weighing more heavily on me as I am in the critical stage of refining my latest project. I am grateful to your understanding of the need for secrecy on my projects for the government. However, I can reveal a few brief overviews of the project to you. I have derived a formula, which is extremely powerful in nature in terms of explosives. If all goes well it will revolutionize warfare as we know it. The owner will reap millions of pounds from its development. I don't care much for the latter part, for as you can see I'm comfortably well off as it is."

"Do you know anyone who would want this formula for any reasons, or is there anyone you know who would like to take revenge upon you?"

"I don't immediately see anyone who would want to take the formula form my project group as we are all fairly well off and are loyal to the queen."

"I see. May I have the names of the men in your project, or who would know about this formula of yours?"

"The team itself is made up of myself, Lord Lawton, Dr. James Dewer, and Charles Neville. We all came up with the idea, but the main formula was all mine in the making and testing. The other men were merely co-creators of this project. We all came up with what we needed to create, so we took different directions to approach the correct solution and I was the one who found it. The only other man in the area who would know what we were up to was a man named Jesse Needham who lives in the slums. He was hired to clean up the laboratory and to stock the furnace, things such as that."

"Do you know where I can reach of these men? I'd like to talk to them individually."

"Yes, I will write down their addresses for you in a moment."

"Excellent. Now, is there anything you can tell me about the abduction of your son?"

"Virgil was on the way to his school. Pratt dropped him off like he usually does, but shortly after we received a telegram from the school asking of Virgil's whereabouts. The school said that no one had seen him anywhere that day. Pratt assured me that he dropped him off and saw him enter the confines of the school grounds. I have no doubt that Pratt was involved as he has been mourning the loss of Virgil with me. Pratt offered his resignation for letting this happen, and like me; he has been moping around the house staring at pictures of Virgil and his toys."

"I, like you, do not believe Pratt is involved. I will, however, find who did this and turn them to justice."

"Thank you Mr. Holmes. I will pay you whatever it takes, I just want Virgil back."

"That is very welcome Mr. Silverbridge, but I feel that I will only need repayment for whatever I must expend to find Virgil and bring him back safely."

Holmes then got up and shook Mr. Silverbridge's hand. Mr. Silverbridge wrote out the addresses of the men whom he had worked with and Sherlock and I caught another cab to the first name on the list, Lord Lawton. It only took fifteen minutes to arrive at his house, which was of equal size to that of Silverbridge's, but it looked in slight disrepair.

Upon knocking on the door we were greeted by yet another servant, this one by the name of Jenkins. We had trouble convincing him to let us into Lawton's house, as we were not expected. Finally he let us in to the foyer while he went to look for his master and ask if we might meet with him. Holmes took the opportunity of being left alone in the foyer to explore the modest furnishings. There was a simple couch and table with a photo album on it, a door behind which Jenkins had scurried away, and a staircase to the upper part of the abode. Sherlock picked up the photo album and tried to exam it, but he found that it was locked. His next goal was to set up the stairs to peek at the other parts of the house. Halfway up the stairs creaked loudly and Jenkins reappeared from behind the door.

"What are you doing? Come down from there at once," exclaimed Jenkins.

"Very well," responded my companion. "I was just investigating the area. Did you tell your master who we are and why we wanted to see him?"

"Yes I did, but he does not wish to speak with you."

"Very well, then I will have to ask you a few questions," replied Holmes. "What is beyond these stairs?"

"I do not have to answer to you sir. My only duties are to see that you do not disturb my maser or his home."

"Then would you like me to barge into your master's study and tell him that you have been prying into his private life?"

"Whatever are you on about sir?"

"Clearly you get a little bored when your master is not around. It seems like you love to pry into his private affairs, and I do mean pry. You have recently been trying to open his photo album with a hatpin. However, you didn't accomplish your goal did you?"

"Why are you making these false accusations?"

"What else explains the pin induced cuts and puncture wounds on the fingers of your right hand? You tried to jimmy it with your left hand while holding the book with your right. As I can see from the wear on your right sleeve and the chalk stain on the fingers of your left hand you play a good deal of billiards, and you are right handed. Thus you are clumsy with your left hand and instead of opening the photo album you only succeeded in cutting your right hand."

The look on Jenkins' face was of utter amazement as he realized he was no match for England's greatest detective.

"Those lead to the upper floors of the home, but we do not go there anymore. Sadly they are falling into disrepair as Lord Lawton has been neglecting to pay for the extra help required to maintain that portion," replied Jenkins in an air of resentment. "Now will you please leave?"

"Yes Jenkins, I think we will. We won't continue to waste our time here."

With that we were out the door and in another cab speeding towards the home of our next man, Charles Neville. However, he was not at home so we had to continue to the private laboratory of James Dewer. No one was there to greet us and after knocking and waiting a few minutes we decided to try to door, which was open. We entered into a chilly room smelling like one of Holmes experiments gone wrong. Behind a lab table was a man deeply immersed in his work.

"Excuse me sir, are you James Dewer?" inquired Holmes.

"Yes I am. May I ask to whom am I speaking?" replied Dewer.

"I am Sherlock Holmes, and this is my assistant Dr. John Watson. I am currently under the employment of Mr. Silverbridge. Are you aware of the kidnapping of his son?"

"Oh my, little Virgil? I haven't been talking to Silverbridge for a while. I've been here working on my latest experiment for the past couple of weeks. I don't sleep much, I only wish to get my work done."

"Mr. Silverbridge told me that he had finished his formula and that a little after Virgil was abducted a week ago. Do you know anyone who would want to take Virgil and ransom him for something from Mr. Silverbridge?"

"I have no clue. I don't get out much. I do know that we used to have a chap down at the main office named Jesse Needham. He wasn't too well off and he was fired a while ago for not doing his job properly."

"Who fired him, was it Silverbridge himself or one of your other co-workers?"

"I believe it was Silverbridge. I remember Jesse was in a terrible mood that day. He left shouting that he would find a better place to work. That was the last I heard of him. I suggest you look for him, he's probably crafty enough to have taken Virgil for revenge."

"Thank you kindly for your time Mr. Dewer."

"That's Professor Dewer, and you're welcome. Good luck finding Virgil."

With that final statement we found ourselves in a small area on the West End of London on the Thames River. The address given to us by Silverbridge was that of an old shack that looked nothing more than a few walls to keep the rain out and the wind at bay. A small wind burning stove was pumping out little puffs of smoke into the harsh snowy air. We knocked on the door to a sharp reply of "Whadda ya want?"

"May I talk to Mr. Jesse Needham please?" asked Holmes.

"Who's lookin' for 'im?" was the angry response.

"A man who wants to keep the police at bay."

"Ah don't deal with the coppers, so bug off!" was the only response we could get. Sherlock decided that this wasn't going to work se we returned to 221B for some warming up and a change of plans.

"Watson, did you notice the little spy hole that our friend Needham had?"

"What do you mean Holmes?"

"He had a little tiny crack in his door through which he could clearly see us. He must be hiding something if he doesn't want us there and if he thinks we are with the police."

"Holmes, your powers of observation never cease to amaze me."

"It takes practice Watson, and a trained eye. I'm afraid we'll have to use another means to get into his home, and that's disguise. Come into my bedroom Watson, I have just the clothes for us to pass as natives of Mr. Needham's neighborhood."

Twenty minutes later we were dressed as dock workers and were back on our way to the West End. Forty minutes later we arrived at our destination and Sherlock once again knocked on Needham's door.

"Who're you lads, and why are ya here?"

"A couple of lads suggested we come here to find good places ta work, said you would know some richer people we could get jobs form and steal from for a little extra."

"Yeah, I do know a few blokes you could steal something from, come on in for a drink."

I was surprised by the squalor some people were living in. The room was filled with various broken pieces of furniture that looked like they were stolen from trash piles around the city. Needham was clothed in odds and ends of clothes that were either too small or too large. How he managed to get a job for Silverbridge and his partners was beyond me.

"Now how about that drink and job mates," said Needham.

"How about we ask you a few questions instead Mr. Needham? Like why you were fired by Mr. Silverbridge for starters?"

"You're those coppers ah saw earlier aren't ye?"

"We're not cops. I'm Sherlock Holmes and this is Doctor John Watson, perhaps you have heard of us? But who we are is really beside the point. We can, however, get the police here very quickly and easily and I'm sure they'd love to know why you have a pocket watch that says "Lord Lawton" on the front of it on your bedside table."

"Alright, ah'll talk a little."

"Did Mr. Silverbridge fire you?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Why?"

"Because ah wasn't doing me job, ah was leavin' the place a mess and ah wasn't stocking the fire with the right materials. Ah was stealing the right wood for me furnace here and ah was brining scrap wood from around town to the lab."

"Somehow I think there was something else behind it. I'll give you £1 if you can tell me what Lord Lawton told you to do and why."

"How'd ya know Lord Lawton was involved with me?"

"I already told you I saw his watch. I know Lord Lawton is having a few financial troubles right now. He most surly would have fired you first or called the police on you if you had indeed stolen his watch. What did he say to you in return for giving it to you?"

"He told me ta get fired by Silverbridge for messin' the place up, ya know? I was ta make a right mess of things and ta threaten and storm out on Silverbridge. I think Lawton has had somethin' against 'im."

"Thank you Mr. Needham. Here is an extra £1 for your troubles. Please don't make me come here again under similar circumstances and stay away from Lord Lawton."

With that Holmes had us run back to 221B for a quick change back to our normal clothes and then it was off to Scotland Yard. We entered the building quickly and ran right to Inspector Lestrade's desk.

"Holmes, what are you doing here?" asked Lestrade.

"Getting you out of trouble once again Lestrade. Mr. Silverbridge contacted me and I have solved the disappearance of his son, but you must act fairly quickly."

"Who did it and better yet how'd you figure it out? I've been going out of my mind for the past week over his case."

"Lord Lawton is responsible. He was running out of money and it seemed that all Silverbridge could do was to acquire more. He needed to get Silverbridge distracted enough so that Silverbridge would give him the formula to work with. The idea was that Silverbridge would give Lawton the formula because Lawton was the only one who had the time to finish it. Dewer was working nonstop on something of his own and Neville was out of the country for some time. The plan was to get Silverbridge to turn his focus completely on regaining his son. Lawton even had Jesse Needham fired by Silverbridge so that it would look like he had something to do with Virgil's disappearance. Lestrade, if you go to Lord Lawton's home I'm sure you'll find Virgil in one of the upper stories held in a room by Jenkins of Lawton himself."

"Amazing Holmes," I said, "I took you one day to solve what it took Lestrade to get nowhere in a week. How do you do it?"

"Elementary my dear Watson, elementary."

The End