Chapter 7 – No Avail

Disclaimer – don't own anything good – but I took the liberty of inventing an island and a species of flower.

Man, how much did "Batman Begins" kick ass! "Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith" was also awesome. All these wonderful blockbusters – so little time! Oh, Harrison Ford rocks! I just re-watched the Indiana Jones movies AND the original Star Wars! – sigh

Note: this chapter has been recently been revised (5 years after the fact(!))

I'd just like to send a special and grateful thank you to any one who decides to read my little story – my love for all things Sherlock Holmes has only grown in the time since I first started writing this story, my only hope is that it is to your satisfaction. Thanks again ;-)

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The next morning was like so many Holmes and I had shared – him rising bright eyed and bushy tailed, while I did my best to ignore him, hoping he'd notice, or care, that I thoroughly disproved of him taking that substance. And as per usual – he didn't.
"Morning Watson" he exclaimed brightly turning around the corner.
I turned to pour some tea. "Yes" he murmured softly, noting my casual silence. "So Watson, I take it that you examined that list" he stated, rather than asked. I gave no reply. "Speaking of which - where is the list?" He asked with a frown.

Probably having developed a sneaking suspicion that asking me would do no good; Holmes decided to rummage around for the list himself. Five minutes later, I was beginning to wonder how he managed to be known as such a great detective. I sighed heavily, dipping my hand under the newspaper on the table and handed it to him. He turned to me and grinned. "Why thank you Watson" he exclaimed, far more cheerily than to be expected.

That cheerful tone. It dawned on me later that morning as we headed towards the first home on our list that Holmes had been playing with me. Of course. How could the great Sherlock Holmes not find a piece of paper in a small kitchen? I glared over at Holmes, who was attempting to hide the smile that had formed on his lips at my belated revelation. My glare softened to the point of laughter. There was a hint of relief in Holmes' laugh that I had rarely noticed before. My, he was growing soft in his old age I thought with a silent chuckle.

We arrived at the home of Simon Buchanan at approximately ten thirty. His home was grand to say the least. Although, I was sure his country house would be just as impressive. When he had married Clare Farnsworth, he had married into one of the wealthiest families in London. I should add, dear readers, he was no more suspect than anyone else on our list – if indeed any of the guests were to be a suspect. He was simply at the top of our listing.

One of his servants answered the door - a middle aged man with a hint of grey creeping into his hairline. We introduced ourselves and stated the reason of our visit. The man nodded. "One moment please."
"Certainly a handsome home" I pointed out to Holmes whilst awaiting the servants return. Holmes, however, seemed to have his mind focused elsewhere.
"This way if you please" the man said crisply, at once reappearing at the door. Holmes and I followed him into the grand Buchanan abode.

A man, presumably Buchanan was turned away from us, reading a novel by the fireplace. The sound of our footsteps alerted him to our presence. As he turned to greet us I noted he appeared to be in his late-thirties, had dark brown hair with a finely trimmed moustache.
"Ah" he started, striding towards us. "Mr Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson I presume?" grasping our hands in a firm handshake. "I'm delighted to make your acquaintances gentlemen, I've read many stories of your daring exploits and crime solving expertise. What thrilling lives you both must lead" he exclaimed. Holmes smiled politely "ah I can assure you that is mainly down to Dr. Watson's literary flair. Otherwise, my calculated exercises in logic and deductive reasoning would not seem quite as exhilarating as they are made out to be."
"Ah, modesty. Oh but where are my manners, please do sit down. Camilla, would you mind fetching these gentlemen some tea?" The maid who had been standing at the doorway curtseyed and spun on her heel in obedience.

Holmes and I sat down on the finely upholstered chairs opposite Mr Buchanan. Holmes leaned back and ran his well-studied eye over their host, then closed them for an instant. "I take it you are a well-traveled man, and have just recently returned from the Kiarmian Islands, have you not?" Holmes asked opening his eyes to catch Buchanan's look of awe. "Why yes, I returned home just last week. My wife positively begged me to arrive back in time to attend Claudette Greenwood's dinner party together. But how ever did you know? And how did you know it was the Kiarmian Islands? It is a little known area" he asked with great curiosity. "The brownness of your skin indicates you have recently visited an area where the climate is hot and the sun shines bright - obviously not in this country! There are a number of exotic pieces and paraphernalia on your mantelpiece." Holmes paused, taking a good sniff of the air in Buchanan's direction. "Also, I can detect the faint aroma of the rare violet Kijara, which is native to that region. I presume you brought a specimen back with you?" Buchanan nodded "My wife is quite fond of gardening."
"Ah, but you yourself are a keen botanist" Holmes prompted with a smile "as evidenced by the slight discolouration of your fingertips from particular botanical chemicals, and the fact you are able to maintain the rare violet Kijara – a highly fragile flower indeed, requiring far more knowledge and skill to grow than that possessed by the common gardener."

Buchanan shook his head with astonishment "That is very impressive Mr. Holmes. Very impressive. Now gentlemen, as I understand it, you are here to talk about Claudette - Mrs Greenwood's recent demise. An absolutely terrible business, wasn't it? That husband of hers too, it's just too hard to believe. I only met him once, but he seemed a nice enough fellow at the time, normal and all. Who ever would have suspected?" Buchanan asked, sipping his tea.
"You seem quite positive it was Dr. Greenwood" I pointed out "Is there no other you can think of who would wish any harm upon her?"
Buchanan shrugged "It sounded rather conclusive in the morning's newspapers. Also, I should mention, I had heard something about a divorce – rather disadvantageous to the doctor. I don't claim to have known Claudette exceedingly well, but she was a well liked woman by all accounts. Except, I dare say, by the man who once loved her, but had been pushed to the brink - pushed to murder."

Twenty minutes later, Holmes and I left the Buchanan abode.

As we headed towards the next home on the list, Holmes had a peculiar expression on his face. "What's wrong Holmes?" I asked with concern. "Wh- ah, nothing Watson. Just pondering and postulating."

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If you're reading this - thanks for still reading my story! Hope that was ok, I've added a bit more to what was originally here, and from now on I'm heading into new chapter territory – 5 years later! (geez louise huh) Please click the magical mystery review button to leave your thoughts! Thank you!