Prompt: A test of Holmes's abilities, from Hades Lord of the Dead
While some cases arrived at our door in a storm of chaos and activity, far more appeared with such little fanfare that their existence was almost as much a mystery as the case itself. Such it was with a package that arrived, addressed to my friend Sherlock Holmes, on one spring day in 1887.
Holmes had been dreadfully bored recently, with a lack of what he termed interesting cases, which perhaps accounted for why he all but pounced upon me when I returned from my rounds carrying the package. "Watson, put that down at once!" Holmes cried, taking the package and removing it to the table, where we both watched it at a distance as it sat innocently. Feeling rather stupid, I turned to Holmes.
"We shall never know what it is if we do not open it," I said.
"Watson, you know well that I have enemies and it is hardly unlikely that one of them may have sought to harm me through the post," Holmes said seriously.
"Well, whether we open it or dispose of it, we shall have to go near it eventually," I said.
"An excellent point," Holmes conceded. "Very well. I shall open it, however. Stand back."
This struck me as overly dramatic, yet I obeyed Holmes's injunction while he gingerly unwrapped the brown paper and untied the string to reveal a perfectly ordinary hat, perhaps of better make than I could easily have afforded, but in no way out of the ordinary. "Well?" I said. "All this fuss over a hat?"
Holmes, however, had that gleam in his eye which preceded a case and began to walk around the hat, studying it closely. Lifting it up, he found a typewritten note fixed to the inner band.
SEE WHAT YOU MAKE OF THIS. RETURN YOUR CONCLUSIONS TO 14 NORTHUMBERLAND STREET BY TELEGRAM
"How very strange," I said. "Who should wish you to deduce a hat for no reason?" For that was surely what the mystery person behind this arrival wanted.
"I do not know," Holmes said. "But the best way to find out is to do as the note says, and by playing along, the mystery will reveal itself. Now, Watson, you see this hat is well-made and fashionable, purchased in the last year as this style was new this past autumn."
I barely followed fashion myself, seeking only to look respectable enough to maintain a professional air for my patients. That Holmes, so disparaging of most societal whims, was aware of current hat styles at all was something of a surprise.
"You see also a trace of cream at the band, of a type used for styling hair, and by my reckoning," here he brought the hat to his nose and sniffed, "an expensive brand, Watson. This is not a hat for a middle-aged professional man, but a young man about town. Wealthy, I should say."
"What makes you say that?" I asked.
"There is no hat-securer," Holmes pointed out. "Either our mystery gentleman does not bother about losing an expensive hat to the wind or else he has little need to go out in any kind of weather. This hat, Watson, belongs to a young aristocrat. A fastidious one, I should say, for it shows signs of being regularly cleaned and has no wear or traces of hair on it. A man who cares for his clothes and lives a life of leisure. Billy!"
Our pages appeared in the doorway as Holmes wrote these conclusions on a piece of paper. He handed the boy some coins with the instructions to telegram them to the mysterious address. "We shall now wait, Watson, for this little mystery to develop further."
It was not until the next day, when a long, thin package arrived, that the mystery continued. "Surely that is a walking stick," Holmes said, surveying the packaging. "A plan paper used in the wrapping, and simple butcher's string. I ought to have surveyed the packaging more closely yesterday." He unwrapped the paper, revealing, as he had expected, a walking stick which he examined closely.
The stick was, contrary to the hat, well-worn, made of a plain, brown wood, with a curved handle. Few men of my acquaintance would have carried such a plan instrument, and Holmes's eyes glinted with interest. "This, Watson, belongs to a gentleman for whom it is not a mere ornament. You feel the weight of it?" He handed it to me, and it was indeed far heavier than is usual for a walking stick. "The man who carries this undoubtedly has need of it to steady himself, so a severe limp is not unlikely. Likewise, it seems as if frugality was the overriding concern, for such a simply carved stick was not likely to cost much. I surmise as well that our mystery gentleman is elderly and has fallen on even harder times since acquiring it."
"What makes you say that?" I asked.
"You see these scorch marks? They are from using this stick as a fireplace poker. Fresh, which means the owner is still lighting fires though it is far into spring, something a young man would be unlikely to do. Furthermore, using a walking stick in such a way indicates that the fellow does not have a fireplace poker."
"Ingenious," I murmured. Holmes did not answer, instead writing down his conclusions to be sent to the mysterious address.
This repeated itself each day, with a lady's shoe, a pocket watch, a page from a ledger, and a cigarette case sent to us. I had long since decided this was a game on the part of some admirer of Holmes's and ceased to be interested, though Holmes continued to deduce each new arrival with a nearly manic energy that led me to worry for him. I had seen him consumed by cases previously, and on the rare occasions he failed to solve them, the result was a black mood which could last for weeks.
Finally, after a week and a half of unique items sent to our rooms for deductions, the final arrival was a simple note, written this time in elegant script that Holmes spent hours analyzing with little to show for it.
Thank you for playing along with this test of your abilities.
Be sure you shall hear from me again.
M.
"Who is M.?" I asked.
"I do not know, Watson," Holmes said, and now, strangely, seemed to have lost all interest after declaring the note written by an educated man on paper unique to those used by students and academics. "No doubt we shall find out soon enough. A test! It is lucky that no true cases arrived during this charade, for I could not afford to be so distracted ordinarily."
It occurred to me that this may have been exactly what the mysterious sender wished; as Holmes said, he had made enemies. But at the time, I was merely glad when the mystery subsided with no black moods on Holmes's part and no further correspondence from what may have proven to be an assailant.