The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures

was he who put his son up to the fracas that took place early in the term. When Mountcey and his friends were caught examining the chapel painting the authorities connected this with the earlier misdemeanours, a suspicion that was reinforced when

the picture went missing. Of course, Mountcey could not be proved to be implicated in the theft, so he was quite safe.'

Spooner was frowning with concentration. 'But, then, whose incunabulum stole the Radcliffe?'

'I am persuaded that it was Giddings himself who removed the book from the library. Mountcey gave me his word that he knew nothing of it. Such a reputed and infirm scholar as Dr Giddings was, of course, above suspicion, so it was the easiest thing in the world for him to leave with the precious artefact under the rug in his bath chair, having left the duplicate.'

'Then the book and the painting are safe in Dr Giddings's house?'

'The book – yes. I am sure Dr Giddings would not harm it, nor intend to deprive the library of it for long. The painting, I suspect, is another matter.' Holmes opened a portmanteau he had brought with him. He extracted a parcel roughly wrapped in newspaper and proceeded to unravel it.

Spooner leant forward to examine a blackened fragment of what had once been gilded wood and gesso and to which a fragment of charred canvas still adhered.

'The night before last,' Holmes explained, 'I paid a clandestine visit to Dr Giddings's garden. I found this on a bonfire in a corner of the grounds. The embers were still warm. Unless I am mistaken, that is all that remains of the fake Rembrandt – and just as well, perhaps.'

'Whatever made you think of looking there?'

'When I called on Dr Giddings the previous day, he was obviously concerned about my interest in the Rembrandt. He tried to convince me that its theft was a student prank and he brought my visit to a sudden halt with what seemed to me rather a theatrical fit of coughing. I believe that was to prevent me looking inside the room where the painting was currently housed. I reasoned that he would want to be rid of the evidence very quickly after such a fright and there seemed to be only one easy way to do that.'

Spooner removed his spectacles and polished them thoughtfully. 'Mr Holmes,' he said, 'you are a remarkable young man. I predict that you will go far. May I ask you to put what you have just told me in writing? My colleagues will, I know, want to study it most carefully.'

'I had anticipated that request,' replied my friend, handing over a sealed envelope.

'How wise, Mr Solomon, how wise. The college is indebted to you. You will undoubtedly be hearing more from us. For the moment all I can do is personally grace my platitude on record.' He shook Holmes warmly by the hand and escorted him to the door.

Sherlock Holmes reflected during the next few days on the immense pleasure and satisfaction this little enquiry

had occasioned him. He had, at that time, no inkling that his vocation lay in the field of criminal detection but, as he later confessed to me, the bothersome business of the Dutch Nativity, was undoubtedly the case that opened up new possibilities to him.

All that lay in the future. One more immediate result manifested itself a few days later. Holmes received an unexpected

invitation to dine with the Master of Grenville. He arrived at the

lodge at the appointed time expecting to find himself one of a large party. To his surprise the only other guest was the Warden

of New College. As soon as the three men had embarked on

their meal the master introduced the subject of Holmes's recent investigations. The fellows of New College were very grateful

to him for clearing the matter up but were anxious that none of the information he had gathered should go any further. Under the circumstances he felt sure that Holmes would appreciate that absolute secrecy must be a condition of his remaining in Oxford.

Holmes assured the dons that he would not contemplate breaking any confidences. What, he enquired would be

happening to those involved in the series of outrages culminating in the theft of the painting? The warden replied, 'Any action we might take could only embarrass several important people. Under the circumstances we think it best to draw a veil over all that has happened.'

Holmes was stunned. 'Forgive me, sir, if I mistake your meaning, but it seems to me that you are saying that truth weighs very lightly in the balance against personal reputation.'

'That is a rather stark way of expressing it,' the master suggested.

'But apparently accurate. Theft, forgery and deceit must go unpunished, even unremarked, because we must not make life awkward for members of the establishment.That is a philosophy I am surprised to hear advocated by men of learning and honest enquiry. I fear, gentlemen, that it is one to which I could never subscribe.'

The subject was quickly changed but at the conclusion of the meal Sherlock Holmes returned to his chambers and immediately wrote a letter announcing his resignation from the college.

The Affray at the Kildare Street Club – Peter Tremayne

My narratives of the adventures of Mr Sherlock Holmes, the well-known consulting detective, have always attempted a modicum of discreetness. There is so much of both a personal and professional nature that Holmes confided in me which I have not passed on to posterity – much, I confess, at Holmes's personal request. Indeed, among Holmes's personal papers I had noticed several aide memoirs which would have expanded my sketches of his cases several times over. It is not often appreciated that while I indulged in my literary diversions, Holmes himself was possessed of a writing talent as demonstrated by over a score of works ranging from his Practical Handbook of Bee Culture to The Book of Life: the science of observation and deduction. But Holmes, to my knowledge, had made it a rule never to write about any of his specific cases.

It was therefore with some surprise that, one day during the spring of 1894, after the adventure I narrated as 'The Empty House', I received from Holmes a small sheaf of handwritten papers with the exhortation that I read them in order that I might understand more fully Holmes's involvement with the man responsible for the death of the son of Lord Maynooth. Holmes, of course, did not want these details to be revealed to the public. I did acquire permission from him at a later date to the effect that they could be published after his death. In the meantime I have appended this brief foreword to be placed with the papers and handed both to my bankers and executors with the instruction that they may only be released one hundred years from this date.

It may, then, also be revealed a matter that I have always been sensitive about, in view of the prejudices of our age.

Sherlock Holmes was one of the Holmes family of Galway, Ireland, and, like his brother Mycroft, was a graduate of Trinity College, Dublin, where his closest companion had been the poet Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde, who even now, as I write, languishes in Reading Gaol. This is the principal reason why I have been reticent about acknowledging Holmes's background for it would serve no useful purpose if one fell foul of the bigotry and intolerance that arises out of such a revelation. Many good men and true, but with such backgrounds, have found themselves being shunned by their professions or found their businesses have been destroyed overnight.

This revelation will probably come as no surprise to those discerning readers who have followed Holmes's adventures. There have been clues enough of Holmes's origins. Holmes's greatest adversary, James Moriarty, was of a similar background. Most people will know that the Moriarty family are from Kerry, the very name being an Anglicization of the Irish name O Muircheartaigh meaning, interestingly enough, 'expert navigator'. Moriarty once held a chair of mathematics in Queen's University in Belfast. It was in Ireland that the enmity between Holmes and Moriarty first started. But that is a story which does not concern us.

If there were not clues enough, there was also Holmes's fascination with the Celtic languages, of which he was something of an expert. In my narrative 'The Devil's Foot' I mentioned Holmes's study on Chaldean Roots in the Ancient Cornish Language. I did not mention that this work won high praise from such