FORGOTTEN REMINDERS

by

The Sign of Four

 

 

 

Summer 1899

 

 

“Watson, not another word, else I shall certainly need your professional services.”  My insides felt as if I had gone three rounds with a heavyweight and my eyes were watering like the great Reichenbach Falls.  Watson seemed in a similar condition, nearly doubled over in his chair, our combined laughter enticing a dog from the back mews to bark against the noise.

 

“Sorry, Holmes,” my companion said somberly as he attempted to regain his dignity.  But as is often the case in these situations, it took just one look in my direction and we were both once again overtaken by a laughing frenzy.

 

As many readers of The Strand magazine are aware, John Watson is a master storyteller.  His narratives often reduced us both to little more than schoolboys caught whispering after the lights-out bell had rung.  Contrary to what he would have the world believe, I was Watson’s most ardent admirer, providing his reminiscences were not concerning my own life or cases.  His tales of medical school and the army never failed to enliven an evening, which threatened to turn insufferably dull.  And when, as tonight, he chose to recount a whimsical event such as the meeting he had chanced upon earlier between Inspector Lestrade, a belligerent parrot and a lady of the street—he was in top form.

 

“Holmes, if only you had been there,” Watson concluded.  “I really can not do the tableau proper justice.”

 

“I think it a good thing that I was not.  You know I have a hard time keeping my composure in such comical circumstances.  I would have found myself in Lestrade’s bad graces for weeks.”

 

“As if you would care.”

 

“True,” I acknowledged, “but it is easier this way.  In any event, nothing short of The Second Coming will entice Lestrade to cross our threshold for the next fortnight.  Well done, doctor.”

 

Closing my eyes, I relaxed into my chair.  My hand automatically reached for my pipe, which I easily coaxed back to life.

 

The sun had waged war on London and its inhabitants for the past week.  Any who could have fled the city for the outskirts, where there was rumor of a breeze; or to the coast, where the water at least gave an illusion of relief.  Those of us left in town gave our fellows a wide berth as tempers were short and frustrations ran high.  After a cold dinner, Watson and I had removed collars and jackets, but there was no escape from the heat.

 

I turned my thoughts to the sounds rising from the thoroughfare below.  Baker Street had a life all of its own, and as attuned as I was to it, I scarcely had need of a clock.  The ebb and flow of carriages, hansom cabs and carts jostling for passage against the stream of shoppers, families and commuters kept time as accurately as any church-steeple.  The dog had ceased its barking and I could easily hear the moderate street traffic.  The shops opposite were beginning to bring in their wares from the street stalls, and on Portman Square, I could just distinguish Romney Roy making his rounds with his organ-grinder machine.  Here inside 221, Mrs. Hudson had taken off the kettle for her evening pot of tea and would be joined shortly by a neighbor to swap gossip and discuss the day’s events.

 

Content to sit and let my thoughts flow where they may, my attention soon returned to my friend.  Watson had retired to his desk where he was, as the occasional chuckle testified, happily transferring this most recent anecdote to paper.  His desk as if in direct opposition to my own was a bastion of orderliness and precision.  Perhaps it was a legacy from his time spent in the military, with each pencil properly positioned, every medical text dusted and indexed.  My own poor chemistry bench was littered with half a dozen half-finished experiments and stacks of clippings that some day I would be forced to filter through and file.  Watson must have noticed my surveillance for he turned to look at me, questioningly.

 

“I was just contemplating the amazing flexibility of mankind that allows ones of such seemingly diverse natures as ourselves to manage to live together in relative harmony.”

 

“Our rooms draw to your mind a sociological study?”

 

“It was our respective desks actually, that brought about the thought.  I am afraid that an observer comparing the two would regard my representative with less charity than your own.”

 

“Well, I am sure Mrs. Hudson, at least, would agree with that statement.”

 

“And yet, Watson, she would be wrong; for I have my desk—indeed all my papers—collected in just as practical if a bit more unorthodox manner as your own.”

 

Watson’s eyes widened a bit at the seeming audacity of my proclamation, his laughter barely contained.

 

“You doubt me, my friend?” I questioned, feigning shock.

 

“No, not at all, Holmes.  I have no doubt that you believe that you do indeed have that collection of...” for once, words seem to fail my literary friend and he simply gestured at the room itself, “whatever organized.”

 

“But you do not,” I charged.

 

“I know not.  Too often, I have seen you come flying into this very room and throw stacks of papers across the floor in an excessive display trying to locate the one scrap you seek.”

 

Watson may have had a point, but I was unwilling to yield to him just yet.  To be hot and bored would be asking too much of me this evening; I desired a distraction.  “What you mistook for excessiveness was in fact merely the fastest method of finding what I needed.  Neatness must often give way to urgency.”

 

“Indeed,” Watson replied, quickly turning back to his writing desk in a futile attempt to hide his growing smile from me.

 

“Do I detect a note of cynicism, my good doctor?”

 

“You are the detective, Holmes.”

 

“Very well, I shall prove it to you.”

 

“Really that isn’t necessary.”

 

“No, Watson, I insist.” My mind sought out a test.  “Name any three items in my possession and I shall present them to you within five minutes.”

 

Watson mulled over my proposition.  “My, you are bored tonight, aren’t you?  Very well.  Are you extending this demonstration beyond our sitting room?”

 

“To our entire set of rooms, yes.”

 

“This will be entertaining.  I have you this time, Holmes.  It is my contention that not only do you not know where most of your acquisitions are, but that you have also forgotten why you bothered to keep them.”

 

“You shall see how quickly I dash that little theory of yours to bits, my friend.  Now, what shall be the prize for the completion of this little demonstration?”

 

“Dinner at the restaurant of the winner’s choice on Saturday evening.”

 

“Agreed.”  This fitted my plans well.  I had been considering a visit to the Covent Garden Opera and this would provide me with a companion.

 

Watson rose from his chair eagerly.  His eyes were bright as he scanned the room.  It was interested to see which of my possessions he found most puzzling.  He made a grand show of slowly walking about the room as if viewing it for the very first time.  Once or twice, he stopped and almost picked up an item but chose instead to move on.  It was a fascinating process trying to decipher the thoughts going through his mind as he inspected my belongings. 

 

He finally took up the Good Old Index and opened it at random.  He glanced down the notations of the page and his face brightened.  He read aloud from the page, “Anton Finnamer, forger.  Born Lower Brixton.  Petty crime in youth.  Fond of museums and art galleries.  Chalk artist, specializing in landscapes.  Usually found Green Park—North Gate.  Handwriting expert, see Dunmore Extortion file.”  He closed the Index and returned it to its place.  “Very well, Holmes, you have five minutes to find the Dunmore Extortion File.  I have never heard you mention either it or this Finnamer fellow, and I am most curious.”

 

“A common enough case.”  To Watson’s obvious dismay, I made no motion to rise but remained in my chair as I spoke.  “Finnamer was the only interesting aspect of the affair and then only in the fact that his involvement was in this instance quite innocent.  Still, it cost him six months in goal.  Justice can be a most enigmatic lady.” 

 

I rose confidently and slowly walked over to my desk where I opened the bottom drawer.  From this, I retrieved an oversize folder containing various forgeries and works of art that I had come across over the years.  From this folder I further retrieved two small scraps of paper; one was little more than the bottom fragment of a long forgotten letter revealing only the signature of the writer, the other an extortion letter to one of the better families in London promising scandal if a ransom was not paid. 

 

To the untrained eye, like Watson, no doubt, the two signatures were identical; but to the trained observer and the individual who owned the signature the forgery was evident.  I passed the pages to Watson, and made a great show of replugging my pipe as I awaited his second choice.

 

Watson took the papers cordially, the thrill of the contest beginning to show.  I knew the second item would not be so easy.

 

“I think perhaps a more practical illustration of my point, Holmes, would be if I were to pick an item and then had you explain its significance.”

 

I must admit I was a bit taken aback by this new proposal, but I had supreme confidence in my abilities and quickly agreed to the change in arrangements.  “Whatever you desire, Watson.”

 

“Our entire rooms, you say?”

 

“Yes,” I reiterated.

 

“Would that include the vestibule?” Watson said, barely able to contain his enthusiasm.

 

“Yes,” I answered, curious as to his reference.

 

He was out of our room and down the stair faster than I would have given him credit for in the heat.  He returned in just as quick a time with an umbrella in his hand.  He passed the precious cargo along to me and sat upon the edge of his chair, eager to hear my explanation.

 

To Watson’s credit, I must admit that I had forgotten exactly where I had put this particular piece of evidence.  It was not a case that I was proud of, but it was a case that had stayed at the boundaries of my mind until the guilty party had been finally brought to justice, not for the crime that this umbrella represented but for a similar and just as deadly deed.

 

It was a common enough umbrella, black with twelve ribs and a smooth curved wooden handle.  Businessmen carried its like every day in weather fair or foul.  However, this particular umbrella did have a unique point of interest.  In a large, dramatic gesture, I popped open the umbrella and showed Watson the reason it had sat ignored and forgotten in our front hall.  A small hole the size of a shilling near the top of one of the panels gave evidence that the umbrella would be of little use in any rainstorm.  A closer look at the now exposed shank revealed dark stains upon the wood, stains that I knew to be blood.

 

“Surely that is a bullet hole, Holmes.”

 

“Very good, Watson.  Yes, indeed, a bullet hole.”  I handed the opened umbrella to him for his inspection.

 

“And how did this come to be in our umbrella stand?”  His face turned very serious for a moment.  “This was not your umbrella?”

 

“No, it was not,” I said.  “It belonged to Mr. Grant Stewart of Lauder.”

 

“The name means nothing to me,” said Watson.

 

“No, I’m not surprised.  I only mentioned the case once; but I daresay that the name of Colonel Sebastian Moran does.”

 

“The scoundrel.”

 

“Temper, Watson, temper.  This is an example of his handiwork; though I was never able to prove it, I have no question in my own mind that it was he.  He had been having an affair with Mrs. Grant Stewart and when Mr. Stewart learnt of it, Moran decided to handle him as he had handled all of his other difficulties.  There was one slight miscalculation, however.”

 

I had Watson’s full attention now just as he had held mine earlier.  “It was the lady he slew that rainy, overcast afternoon and not her husband.  A deadly misstep, as the couple turned unexpectedly, exposed Mrs. Stewart to the bullet meant for her husband.”

 

“And you could not prove it?”

 

“No.  Moran was acting as an independent agent.  There was no client to trace, no motive that could be verified.  Moran was able to establish an alibi and I was unable to dispute it.”

 

“You did eventually bring him to justice, Holmes; you must take heart in that.”

 

“Eventually, yes.  But not before he had killed young Adair and who knows how many other unfortunates who got in his way.  I should have been able to stop him, Watson.”  I felt a mood swing begin, a melancholy fog threatened to overshadow the evening’s camaraderie and friendly intercourse, I shivered in spite of the heat.

 

Watson must have sensed it as well for his voice and manner changed dramatically.  “Not even you can work miracles, Holmes.  Why do you keep it?  Surely it can serve no purpose after all this time.”

 

“It is a reminder that not all my cases are successes.  A man surrounded by trophies alone can easily be swayed to believe that he is invincible, and he becomes much like Moran himself.  By being unable to envision his own defeat; he makes that defeat inevitable by his increasingly pretentious behavior.”

 

Watson closed the umbrella and placed it in a dark corner.  His movements were deliberate and he worked as hard to change the mood of the room as he changed the matter under discussion.  “So, you have successfully identified or found my first two choices, but I still have one last chance.  I know there are items here that you do not even know exist.  I simply have to find them.”

 

“If you come across the shag I picked up from Schwartz on Tuesday, I’d be much obliged.  I can’t for the life of me remember where I put it.”

 

“Perhaps in this heat, Mrs. Hudson mistook it for a rotting rodent and threw it in the dustbin.  I think I should like to expand the area of my search.  May I?” he asked indicating my bedroom.

 

“Be my guest, Doctor.”  I watched Watson in my room, and knew his cause was lost.  He stretched himself as tall as he could to see atop my armoire.  He paused to adjust a tiny rope on the mast of the ship he had built for me.  “But do please be so kind as to ignore all items of clothing,” I called out to him.  “They would not be worth your effort.”

 

“Even this lovely boa you have sequestered here?” he countered.

 

“Especially all items of disguise,” I answered.  “However, you are welcome to borrow it, since you fancy it so much.”

 

“Not my color, I’m afraid, Holmes.  Although, I do not really see you in this shade of violet either; but it would go rather nicely with Mrs. Hudson’s new grey walking suit.  Is that why you keep it hidden away in here?”

 

“Mrs. Hudson has a grey walking suit,” I said amazed.  “Watson, you do notice everything.  Perhaps I should have kept my room off limits.”

 

“Too late now, my friend, in fact I think I’ve managed to find item number three, if I can get it out from this corner without unleashing a cloud of dust.”

 

“Watson, I rather take offense at the way you say ‘dust’.  I will have you know that dust is a very useful aide in the detection business.”

 

“No doubt someday you will write a treatise on the subject,” Watson said as he emerged from my room carrying a valise, which was admittedly not only covered in dust, but could more accurately be described as encrusted in dirt.  It was impossible from my vantage point even to determine if the bag was of leather or cloth.  Watson had won the bet, though I would not admit to it quite so easily.

 

“Let me lay some papers down before you re-admit into the world this fossil which you have found.”  I quickly grabbed the evening paper and laid it across the table.  Watson gingerly placed the bag upon the covering.  Silently, we both stared at it.

 

Finally, Watson spoke, barely hiding his optimism, “Well, Holmes, what is it?”

 

All my deductive powers were at full operation, but I was not ready to answer that particular question as yet.  Why did I not recognize this bag, I wondered?  “Where did you find this, Watson?  Some secret compartment in my own rooms of which I know nothing?’

 

“It was at the head of your bed, jammed in the corner between the wall and the head-board.”

 

“Ah, that would explain it then.”

 

“Explain what?”

 

“The crusting of the dirt on the case.  If it was pressed between the wall and the bed, it was often exposed to the elements through the open window.  This accounts for the dust turning to caked dirt over the years.”

 

“Years?”

 

“Oh yes, my friend.  I would say that this valise has not moved in eight, no a little more perhaps, yes, just over eight years.”

 

“1891? You are joking.  Now, that is not fair.  How can you possibly verify such a conclusion?”

 

“I am quite serious.  If we had the tools and the patience, we could do a miniature archaeological dig.  However, I think that merely opening it will serve us just as well.”

 

“Not so fast, Holmes.”  I looked up at Watson in some surprise.  The last thing in the world that I expected to come out of the evening’s diversion was a mystery.  I was eager to get on with it and solve the puzzle of the case.

 

“Are you conceding that you do not remember why you have kept this bag hidden at the head of your bed for eight years?”

 

“Not exactly.”

 

“Then what are you saying?”

 

“I am saying that I have not forgotten this case was there, because I did not put it there.  Furthermore, I have never seen it before in my life.”

 

“How can you be so sure?  Eight years is a long time.”

 

“Nevertheless, I am certain of it.”

 

“Well then, how came it into your room?  I doubt if Mrs. Hudson put it there.  It is obvious that she is barely allowed to keep the floor swept.”

 

“Agreed.  So what we have here is a valise abandoned by person or persons unknown for reasons unknown, as our friend, the good Inspector Lestrade would say.”  I reached to open the clasp, but Watson stayed my hand.

 

“No, no.  That would be too easy.  You were able to deduce quite a bit from the hat that fellow with the Christmas goose dropped . . . .”

 

“Mr. Baker.” I reminded him.

 

“Surely you can do as much with this.  Perhaps after further study you will recall the history of this bag.  Simply opening it; that would be parallel to cheating, don’t you think?”

 

“Very well.”  I was eager to end the debate and get on with the investigation.  I quickly retrieved my lens from the chemistry bench as well as a small brush and miniature pick.  Using the brush, I began wiping away at the handle and clasps.  Watson took advantage of the break in conversation to pour us both another brandy.  I took mine gratefully.

 

“Thank you, my friend.  I have hopes that I may uncover a monogram on the casing here near the handle and I have also cleared off an area displaying the pattern of the cloth.  It is still quite soiled but you can make out a floral design on this side, I believe it to be a woman’s bag, by the cut of it.  Don’t you agree?”

 

Watson had been paying close attention to my progress and this statement sparked an enthusiastic response.  “A woman’s valise?  Hidden at the head of your bed,” he paused here for dramatic effect, “by accident or left on purpose?  Are you now going to tell me that her husband has ceased to love her?  The game is up, old man, who was she?”

 

“Watson, I have already told you I know nothing of this bag’s origins.  You have made your point.  I concede, the day is yours.”

 

“Thank you, Holmes, and as a gentleman, I shall of course believe you when you say you know nothing of the bag itself, but pray, tell me of this lady who unbeknown to you leaves luggage aside your bed.”

 

Watson seemed so pleased with his victory and the idea that I might have some secret romantic liaison that I rather hated to disappoint him.  Therefore, instead of answering his request, I chose to ignore it and returned my attention to the valise.  Its presence in my room concerned me more than I wanted Watson to realize.  It concerned me very much.

 

“I know that look, Holmes.”

 

I glanced at Watson, attempting to wipe all expression from my features—‘look,’ indeed.  The initials waiting to be uncovered under my brush and pick would have to wait for Watson to finish his rebuke.

 

“That innocent what-me-and-a-woman-look.  You’re no different than the rest of us, you know.”

 

“I’ve never claimed that I was.  I merely stated the fact that I did not, I do not wish for my life to be complicated by the distraction of a lady at my side.  You know how I live, Watson.  Would it be fair to subject any woman to this?”  I gestured about the room.  “I barely pass your non-judgmental criteria for a roommate; I would certainly fail to meet the standards set by any woman.”

 

“You are changing the subject, Holmes,” Watson said.

 

“No, I’m afraid that you had already done that, Doctor.  Now, if I may continue, this bag holds more attraction for me at the moment than any woman possibly could.”

 

I ignored Watson’s harrumph, as he returned to his writing desk, dismissing not only me but my little mystery as well.  Unperturbed, I focused my attention upon uncovering the monogram.  The work went quickly and without further interruption.  The initials that I revealed did give me pause, and I stared over at my friend in total and complete confusion.  The initials MW could only mean Mary Watson.

 

Pushing myself away from the bag, I gathered my thoughts.  What was Mrs. Watson’s bag doing abandoned in my room?  No, not abandoned, but hidden if Watson’s appraisal of its resting place was accurate.  1891, I had said; he and Mary were living at the time in their house on Queen Anne Street.  In April, Watson had accompanied me to the continent.  Mary had been away on a long visit, Watson had said; surely, she would have taken her luggage with her.  How very odd, I thought.  I could not in good conscience continue my investigation without Watson’s consent, and yet, I could not help but wonder if this discovery of the doctor’s might not have been best-left unknown and ignored behind the headboard.

 

“Watson, would you come over here, if you please?”

 

“What is it, Holmes?  Is something wrong?”

 

He was at my side in a moment, his concerned eyes examining me, I merely gestured at the uncovered initials, turning his attention away from myself.

 

“Oh, my God.”  He reached for the valise, in surprise.  “It’s Mary’s!”  In a second, he had picked up the brush and began whisking away the remaining dirt in a most unscientific manner.  “This is extraordinary.  However, did it come to be here?”

 

“I had rather hoped, my friend, that you could answer that.”

 

Watson was beside himself.  “You realize, of course, Holmes,” he said, “that if I do find any personal items of Mary’s in here, I shall be honor bound to call you out.”

 

“I would expect no less,” I responded, matching his tone.

 

“The floral print is barely discernible under all this dirt.  She had a set of three matching cases—they were a wedding present from Mrs. Forrester.  I have the other two in storage with some of her clothes.  I had forgotten this one was missing.  At the time...” his voice died off as a terrible sadness overtook him.

 

I marveled at his ability to feel so strongly.  Turning away to allow him some privacy, I moved to the sideboard, where I picked up the brandy decanter and refilled our glasses.  Watson acknowledged my offering, but made no effort to drink the liquid.  My own was gone almost as soon as I poured it.

 

“Holmes, can you tell me nothing?  What is it doing here?”

 

“I am sorry, my friend.  I have no facts upon which to make a hypothesis.”

 

“I am not sure, that I want to open it.”  He touched the bag tentatively, his sense of loss tangible.

Leaving him alone, I stepped out to the landing, “Mrs. Hudson!” I called down.

“Yes?” drifted up her answer.

 

“May we have some tea?”

 

“Certainly, Mr. Holmes.”

 

Turning back towards the sitting room, I found I could not enter.  Watson remained at my chemistry table, the valise still unopened.  Having no desire to intrude upon so private a moment, I opened the hall door to my room, now curious to examine the resting place of this troublesome bag.  As a mise-en-scène, my private apartment was disappointing. It was an ordinary room as far as size and design.  That it belonged to a bachelor was evidenced by the single bed and decided lack of female accouterments, boa excluded of course.  The walls were crammed with photographs of people whose somber countenances gave evidence to their membership of the criminal class, denoting the resident’s obsession with crime.  Handcuffs, burglary tools, and weapons furthered the validity of this deduction.

 

Although the mantelpiece was littered with pipes and tobacco pouches, my hand reached for a cigarette.  The dusty syringes lying there indicated a more troubling, albeit overcome addiction, while the stacks of papers and newspapers spoke of a man with widespread interests and a collector’s obsession with possession.  That he was a successful individual was evident in the careless way that various expensive objects were strewn about the room with little or no care for their worth; a jeweled snuffbox was at present being used as a paperweight.  There was little in the room to make it inviting or cheerful, and I suddenly found the room depressing.  I turned my attention to the headboard of the bed.

 

As there was not much space behind the bed, I was forced to pull it further away from the wall for my inspection.  Fortunately, among the items in my room was a bull’s eye lantern.  Thus equipped, I was able to see the exposed area clearly.  I found as I expected -- dust, cobwebs, dirt and a small collection of twigs blown into the room on the evenings when my open window had allowed nature to trespass.  There was nothing to tell me why Mary Watson had left her valise behind my bed some time during the summer of ‘91, the summer I disappeared.  I picked up the hearth broom from my seldom-used fireplace, and swept the area clean.  As I brushed the collected dirt pile onto the shovel for disbursement, an odd-looking clump of dirt caught my attention and upon closer inspection revealed itself to be a button.  This I kept along with several small coins, and threw the remainder of the mixture into the hearth.

 

After pouring a bit of water into my washbasin, I set about cleaning my prize.  It proved to be an unexpected find.  As buttons go, it was an average enough example—the small stem had retained a short piece of dark thread, and there was a design upon the face.  After further cleaning, it showed itself to be a regimental crest of some kind.  It appeared to have been reattached to a garment at some time for there were needle scratches on the underside and stem.  There was no way to determine how long it had rested under my bed.  I doubted very much that it had come from any garment Mrs. Watson might have been wearing.  Could it be from an old uniform of Watson’s?  I would need my lens before I could be sure of the crest.

 

Still unsatisfied, I returned to my headboard with a more exact search in mind.  As expected, I was able to found a small splinter in the wood of the bed, which could easily catch a loose thread or button.  This was most satisfying as it gave weight to the theory that the button and the valise were somehow connected.  I took heart in my belief that chances were high the button would indeed be Watson’s and my misgivings just the product of an over-active imagination of a hot, bored detective.

 

Mrs. Hudson passed my room, but I made no comment; I was not the one in need of tea.  She continued on to the siting room.  “Ah, Dr. Watson, I’ve brought you up some tea.”

 

“How very kind of you, Mrs. Hudson.  Here let me help you, it’s much too hot a night for you to be carrying things up and down the stairs.”

 

“Thank you, Doctor.”

 

“Holmes,” Watson called out, “stop hiding in your room and join me for some tea.”

 

I pocketed the trinket and returned to the sitting room.  ‘Hiding’ indeed, there was no arguing the fact that Watson had a fertile imagination.

 

In my absence, the room had grown dim, but I hesitated to turn up the gas.  I compromised by lighting a small oil lamp kept on the side table.  Watson had moved from the chemistry bench to the dining table where he now handed me a cup of tea.  I laid it down without tasting it, my cigarette providing all the sustenance that I needed at the moment.  Mrs. Hudson gave me a frown and prepared to leave the room when a thought occurred to me.

 

“Mrs. Hudson?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Holmes,” she said eyeing my untouched cup, “would you care for something else?”

“No, the tea is quite perfect; but I am curious, do you recognize that valise upon my table?”

 

She turned to look at the bag, and it was obvious that it did not bring about immediate recognition.

 

“It is Mrs. Watson’s,” I added.

 

“Oh my Lord,” Mrs. Hudson exclaimed, rushing over to the case.  She picked it up and brought it toward the doctor and the light.  “Yes, indeed.  So it is.”

 

“You recognize it then?” Watson said puzzled.  “How?”

 

“She brought it with her...that day, Doctor.”

 

“Oh, I see,” Watson said knowingly, while inexplicably, Mrs. Hudson sat down at the table looking as if she might begin to sob momentarily.

 

I was lost.  “Which day?” I asked impatiently.

 

Mrs. Hudson looked to Watson as if asking permission to speak, and only when he nodded encouragement, did she explain.  “The day that she died, poor thing.  She stopped by to have a drop of tea, and brought along the bag to take away a few things of the doctor’s that he kept for those times when he still helped out on a case.”  She reached over to Watson, grasping his hand in an offer of comfort.  “I was so happy to have Mrs. Watson’s help, and she seemed much stronger, a little cough was all.”

 

“Yes, I thought so, too, but I should have known better,” Watson said, his regret palpable.  “I should have come myself; I should never have let her undertake such a strenuous journey.”

 

“Now don’t go blaming yourself, doctor.  It was her time, that’s all.”

 

“If I hadn’t been so pre-occupied, I might have noticed how weak she truly was.”

 

“She was in fine spirits when I left to pop over to Langham’s for a fresh raspberry tart—I was hardly gone ten minutes.  When I returned I thought I heard her moving about and called upstairs, then I went to put the water on.  After a few minutes, it seemed odd that she hadn’t joined me, so I came upstairs to make sure she was all right, but she was gone.  I must have been mistaken about the noise, for I would have heard her leave.  It must surely have come upon her suddenly for she did not even leave a note.”

 

If there was one thing that our landlady was in good possession of, it was her ears.  If she heard something then there must have been something to hear, and if it wasn’t Mrs. Watson, then what or who?  My hand fingered the button in my pocket and I drew heavily upon my cigarette.

 

“Mary was dead before the cab reached my surgery.  It was the strangest thing,” Watson continued, an urgency to his voice as if in explaining what had happened he might finally come to understand it.  “She was so bright and cheerful that morning.  It was a lovely day, sunny and warm.  I had not been much company since my return from the continent and I thought a change would do Mary good.  We both knew her time was limited, and yet, we thought there would be a few more months, a year—I had hoped.  I should have known better.”

 

“You’re never prepared for such a loss, Doctor.  My Walter’s been gone how many years and there are still mornings I wake surprised not to find him next to me.”

 

They sat in mutual understanding silence while I sat quietly and appeared sympathetic, secretly pondering this information.  Watson would hardly let his wife leave her deathbed to come to tea, regardless of the weather.  He was annoyingly over-protective of people he felt responsibility towards.  It was highly unlikely that he had misjudged his wife’s condition.  I lit another cigarette, and wondered, why was Mary packing Watson’s things, why had her health deteriorated so suddenly, and why was the valise still here?  It was not at all heavy; I doubted if there was much in fact contained within it.  Obviously, there was some vital intelligence that I lacked, but these were Watson’s private agonies and I was reticent to intrude.

 

Fittingly, it was Watson who continued the questioning.  “Mrs. Hudson, I found this valise tonight, stored behind Mr. Holmes’ head-board.  Do you have any idea how it came to be there?”

 

“No, Doctor,” she said, and after a short pause continued, “My, that is odd.  I thought Mrs. Watson had taken it with her; it was gone when I returned from Langham’s.  It’s true that the room was in a state, what with the workmen’s odds and ends still about, but I would have noticed if she had left the bag behind.”