owe you is beyond evaluation.'
Holmes and I returned to Baker Street in the evening. Holmes started ascending the stairs, but I went to have a few words with Mrs Hudson. When I joined Holmes upstairs, I found him sitting in his chair with an air of dejection and despondency about him. He was looking at the syringe on the mantelpiece.
'An interesting case,Watson. I wonder whether the world will ever come to its senses. This Balkan crisis nearly plunged the whole world into misery; I trust no such crisis will arise again in our lifetime.'
'I trust not, Holmes,' I said, as Mrs Hudson entered with a tray, which she placed on the table and left. Holmes sniffed the air and said: 'Hello, what's this, Watson?'
'Turkish coffee, Holmes. One of Orman Pasha's attendants gave it to me as we were leaving Royston Manor. He said that the Pasha asked him to say that it was a better stimulant than many others.'
Holmes smiled to himself as he sipped the coffee. 'Excellent, Watson,' he said.
The Enigma of the Warwickshire Vortex – F. Gwynplaine MacIntyre
Strange Disappearance of Local Businessman
A peculiar and unexplained incident is reported from Leamington. On the Wednesday morning, two bankers of this community made a visit to Number 13a, Tavistock-street, the residence of Mr James Phillimore, age 33, who desired to accompany these gentlemen to their place of business for the purpose of discussing a financial transaction.
Stepping into the street, Mr Phillimore glanced momentarily upwards, and – although the weather has been fair this past fortnight – he remarked to his companions: 'It looks like rain. Let me get my umbrella.' Whereupon he stepped back into his own house, closing the front door but leaving it unlocked, whilst his colleagues remained on the doorstep.
A moment later, the two gentlemen over heard Mr Phillimore shouting from within:
The floorboards in the centre of the foyer were
An umbrella-stand stood unmolested in a corner of the vestibule, well away from the circle. The ferrule of Mr Phillimore's umbrella, with several inches of the shaft, was found on the floor at the outer edge of the circular enigma. The missing portion of the umbrella – which presumably had accompanied Mr Phillimore into the circular zone – had been neatly
Both of the witnesses to this astonishing occurrence are prominent bankers of Leamington Spa, whose veracity and sobriety are above reproach.
The house has now been thoroughly searched by the local police, and there is no evidence of sink-holes nor of any hidden chambers. At this reporting, no trace of Mr Phillimore has been found.
Extract from
for Thursday, 26 August 1875
My friend Sherlock Holmes had recounted the Phillimore case to me in only the briefest terms, for he was disinclined to discuss his rare failures. I knew only that the incident had occurred very early in his detective career, shortly after the
On the afternoon of 18 April 1906, I was examining a patient in my London surgery when word arrived that a great earthquake had lain waste to the mighty city of San Francisco. By nightfall the grim toll was confirmed: several hundreds were injured or dead, and many thousands were homeless. For the next thirty hours, the transatlantic cable relayed further news: the coal-gas lines beneath the San Francisco streets had ruptured in the earthquake, in consequence of which the entire city was now engulfed by fires that raged unchecked. In the safety of my Harley Street surgery, I resolved myself to make a modest contribution to any public subscriptions which might be set up in London to aid the San Franciscan victims.
Scarcely a fortnight later, a telegram bearing a familiar return address in the Sussex Downs was delivered to my rooms. The message consisted of only three words: 'Come at once' and the signature 'Holmes'. No further text was necessary.
I made haste to Victoria station and purchased a first-class return for the down train to Brighton. After an unusually long wait for my train's arrival, the railway journey passed quickly enough. At the Brighton cab-rank, a coachman conveyed me to the gateposts of my destination.
The house of Mr Sherlock Holmes was outwardly like any bachelor's domicile, but the gardens surrounding it provoked astonishment. The house was flanked and garrisoned on all sides by long thin wooden cabinets which – upon closer inspection – were in fact
'Delighted you came, Watson.' He passed forth his cigar-case, and I accepted a black
'I had not known that bees could be persuaded to live in wooden cabinets,' I said.
Holmes selected a Havana
'You were aware of the delay, then?' I asked him.
'Not at all,' said Sherlock Holmes. 'As soon as you entered my house, I observed that your train was delayed.'
I smiled indulgently. 'You must have memorized