piece of romantic adventure to the untrained reader, to me they obstruct what would otherwise be an exercise in the pure, logical science of criminology.’
Not for the first time during our long association Holmes seemed to take some misplaced pleasure in heaping scorn on to my humble, though rather elegant literary accomplishments.
‘I am sure that I have always given due regard to your deductive and scientific achievements throughout each narrative of our adventures, while at the same time making each tale more palatable to the wider public by employing the crafts and skills of a romantic author. I do not consider that your criticism is worthy and I am sure that your reputation has been greatly enhanced as a result of my work,’ was my indignant response.
‘Of what use is any reputation that I may have acquired if the merits of logical thought and analysis are buried beneath an avalanche of meaningless verbosity? However, I do not mean to detract from your skills with a pen and perhaps some of your less flowery chronicles may have had a beneficial effect on criminal detection on a broader base. Now pray continue, but please employ economy in your narration!’ Holmes implored as a conclusion to his lamentable attempt of an apology.
Still feeling somewhat aggrieved, I sipped my cognac and continued reading, though now more hesitantly as I conscientiously edited the less relevant details.
‘As you will undoubtedly recall, the most singular case of James Phillimore’s disappearance was first brought to our attention by his brother, Montague, whose lamentable demise was reported in yesterday’s newspapers. Mrs Hudson was visiting her sister at the time, therefore Billy brought up his card and subsequently presented him to us, just after breakfast on a particularly wet morning.’ I should point out that Billy was the butcher’s son and a most presentable young lad who took over some of Mrs Hudson’s duties during her infrequent absences.
‘Montague Phillimore had been well prepared for the inclement weather and it took us several minutes to disentangle him from his sodden outer garments before handing these to Billy so that they might dry off by the parlour fire downstairs. Phillimore had been most grateful for the tea that Billy poured for him and sank down wearily into our visitor’s chair by the fire.
‘He was clearly in a state of great agitation and perplexity and this was made evident by the way he constantly wrung his hands together. Phillimore was a man in his fifties, of medium height and build and dressed like a solicitor or financier. He could evidently have been successful at either of these professions, had he so chosen, for his clothes were of the finest quality and despite their recent drenching, retained a sharply pressed crease. His prematurely white hair was frizzled and sparse.
‘I have transcribed our conversation with him should you wish to hear it.’ I suggested.
‘By all means, Watson, this is far better than your earlier ramblings!’
‘“Gentlemen!” Phillimore suddenly began. “Let me simply cut to the chase. My brother, James, has disappeared under the most bizarre set of circumstance one can think of!”
‘Holmes, the expression of excitement on your face, upon hearing Phillimore’s pronouncements, was in as marked a contrast to your earlier one of lethargy as can be imagined. You leant towards him as a pointer dog might towards his quarry and, despite our client’s obvious discomfort you could not suppress a smile of anticipation and excitement from playing upon your lips.’
‘Precis please, Watson, precis,’ Holmes urged with an exaggerated gesture of exasperation. ‘The interview itself is far more important than my reaction to it.’
‘Very well then, I shall continue with the transcription.
‘“Mr Phillimore,” you addressed him, “with all due respect, I should point out that I seldom involve my practice in a missing person’s investigation. However, if you inform me of the exact events and circumstances that led you to my door, on so inclement a morning, I can assure you that I shall devote my full attention to your concern.”
‘Phillimore bowed his head in appreciation of your offer and then added: “Mr Holmes, this is not simply a missing person’s investigation, for my brother has disappeared in the literal sense of the word. However, I am ahead of myself. Let me first explain something of the nature of my relationship with James. My brother and I inherited a less than successful investment brokerage from our late father. Despite having careers of our own at the bar, we both resolved to turn our father’s company around and we established a partnership, the terms of which were agreeable to us both. We are not twins, indeed James is six years younger than myself; however, there is a family resemblance between us that borders on the uncanny. Gentlemen, imagine myself with a somewhat fuller head of hair and you have my brother!
‘“Any resemblance between us, it must be pointed out, begins and ends with the physical. That we are both confirmed old bachelors is, perhaps, the only aspect of our characters or lifestyles that we share. Whilst I tend to be quiet and reserved, James is outspoken and effervescent. I have taken a small house in one of the quieter suburbs, so my brother’s home is but a few minutes from the centre of town. As I am at my most content in sitting before my fire with a glass of old port and a good book, James’s lifestyle embraces the theatre, fashionable restaurants and the attendance at every kind of social event to which he is regularly invited.
‘“Inevitably these differences between us led to mutual reservations and misgivings regarding the initiation of our intended partnership. However, I must point out that these very differences in our natures have proved to contribute towards the success of our company. James’s social skills have led to the building of a huge portfolio of well-connected and affluent clients willing to entrust their investments to our hands. Whereas my own more grounded and steadfast financial skills ensure that their trust is not misplaced and that our client’s accounts are well managed; as a consequence Phillimore and Phillimore is a name that resounds throughout the financial world.
‘“Now, gentlemen, to the events of last Tuesday morning …” At this juncture, Holmes, you interrupted our client to enquire as to why Phillimore had allowed a week to pass before bringing this case before you.
‘“It may seem as if I have allowed the grass to grow under my feet, but I assure you that I informed the police at the moment the mystery revealed itself. However, their enquiries revealed nothing and, to tell you the truth, I do not think that they attached too much credence to my account of the events I shall now outline to you. Inspector Bradstreet seemed to think that the nature of my brother’s disappearance would appeal to your own singular taste in crime and implied that the regular force viewed James’s fate with an air of indifference, hence my journey to Baker Street this morning.”
‘“I am not at all surprised at the ineptitude of the regular force,” you replied. “However, Bradstreet normally displays above average diligence and intelligence, so I shall bow to his recommendation and beg you to proceed.”
‘“The facts, then, are these, gentlemen. Last Tuesday morning, in our capacity as principle directors of Phillimore and Phillimore, my brother and I were required to attend the annual general meeting of our company. Since James is not the most punctual of men, it was decided that it should fall to me to procure a cab and collect my brother in plenty of time, at approximately nine o’clock, a.m. You might recall that the weather was decidedly bad; the early-morning mist combined with a fine drizzle to form a most dreary outlook and upon arriving outside my brother’s home a full ten minutes before the appointed time, as is my wont, I viewed the impending wait with some apprehension.
‘“Because of the inclement conditions I dispatched the driver to ring for my brother at ten past the hour, only for him to return with a message from James’s valet to the effect that he would be ready to join me in but a few minutes. I received the news with a certain resigned indignation, and sat there drumming my fingers, repeatedly glancing at my watch as the minutes ticked away. When he did eventually emerge he stood reflectively under his porch before announcing the last words I would ever hear him utter: ‘I must go back in to retrieve my umbrella!’ he called through the grey swirling haze, before disappearing back into the house.
‘“My mood was darkened by increased frustration and when James failed to reappear after a further five minutes had passed, I decided to dispense with the services of the driver and to seek out my brother for myself. I rang on the bell pull impatiently and repeatedly and after two or three minutes Jarvis, James’s valet, finally opened the door to me. He greeted me with a strange questioning glance, as if unaware of my reason for standing there.
“‘Yes sir?’ he queried.
“‘Jarvis, please be so kind as to give my brother this message. Let his umbrella be hanged! He must join me in the cab this instant or we will surely be late for our own meeting!”
“‘Now I should point out that, although Jarvis had not been in my brother’s employ for very long, he had proved himself to be a most loyal, efficient and level-headed kind of fellow and a most able manservant. Therefore
