A STUDY IN AMBER
(Book 1 of Holmes andHolmes)
by
P. J. Humphrey
Copyright 8 2015 byPhyllis A. Humphrey
All rights reserved. No part of thispublication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by anymeans, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording,or any information storage and retrieval systems now known orhenceforth invented, without permission in writing from the author,except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages inconnection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine,newspaper, blog, website or broadcast.
Special Smashwords edition
This ebook is part of a series called Holmesand Holmes. This first book is provided free and you are welcome toshare it with others. Additional books in the series, althoughreasonably priced, are not free and restrictions on theirdissemination will apply, as described in the front matter.
Acknowledgments
My heartfelt thanks to Fern Field Brooks,Emmy-winning TV producer and dear friend who, a few years ago,suggested a Sherlock Holmes series. I hope she likes what I didwith her idea.
Also, I cannot tell you how much I appreciatemy grandson Rob Humphrey for creating the covers I wanted for thebooks in this series. But I can give you his contact information incase you are an author in need of a cover – or just anyone in needof a great graphic design. Contact him at [email protected] andsee more of his work at http://www.coroflot.com/rhrobartdesign.
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Other Titles by this Author
Dear Reader
Chapter1
My name is Sheridan Holmes and I’m thegreat-granddaughter of Sherlock Holmes.
You needn’t laugh. I can prove it. Sort of. Imean, I’m not illiterate. I graduated from college. Stanford, noless. So I know people think Sherlock Holmes was a fictionalcharacter created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in the nineteenthcentury. However, it’s no secret that he based Holmes on a realperson, a doctor he knew from medical school. According to ConanDoyle’s stories, Holmes never married or had any children, but inreality he did admire a certain woman, and he was even engagedbriefly. Although he claimed he didn’t understand women and oftenfelt he couldn’t trust them, nevertheless, he remained alwayscourteous and sympathetic.
He could have had an affair with someone,but, if he had, they might have had to hush it up for some reason.Besides, in those days, having a baby out of wedlock was always—asthey used to say in England—a “sticky wicket.” But I digress.
Back to my being related. Clue number one. Myname is almost the same. But whether his name was really SherlockHolmes or not isn’t that important. However, it points to his beingmy great-grandfather. I was adopted, and the name was given to meby my adoptive mother, Fenella Bowen. Yes, the Hollywood actress.She says she was in the throes of a divorce at the time andstarring in yet-another television remake of THE HOUND OF THEBASKERVILLES when the adoption came through. She said it amused herto give me that name.
Of course, my adoptive grandmother, TessaReynolds, who, by the way, lives downstairs in this same restoredSan Francisco Victorian house where I’m writing this, insists thatisn’t true. She says the adoption was a private one, and the namesuggested by the doctor who delivered me. He said the birth motherinsisted he couldn’t reveal how she happened to get pregnant and bywhom. The doctor would know, but he’s dead. How convenient.
Tessa says at one time she did know all thedetails about Holmes’s son and grandson, and, hence, how I came tobe, but—due to her advancing age—she can no longer remember.
Hogwash! Okay, she’s eighty-six and sometimesneeds help carrying in groceries or reaching high shelves, but shekeeps up a schedule that makes beavers look lazy. Her mind is stillas sharp as ever, or else why would she write two romance novelsevery year that actually get published and whose royalty checkspaid for this house as well as the trip to England she gave me formy graduation present a few years ago?
Clue number two. Holmes lived at 221-B BakerStreet in London and this house is on Baker Street in SanFrancisco. Tessa chose the house, over the dozen or so others shecould have picked, because of the address. I’m convinced she wantedme to learn my true heritage, and bought the house as another wayof drawing it to my attention.
Clue Number three: Starting at age five, Ivoluntarily began to read every Sherlock Holmes story, and by agetwelve I could even solve puzzles that stumped many grownups.However, school took up most of my time until recently; and then,while on vacation in London, I visited the museum, formerlyHolmes’s digs at 221-B Baker Street. I made notes of absolutelyeverything in the sitting room—that’s what they call living roomsthere—so I could duplicate it in my apartment here.
In fact, on a September afternoon, I wasdoing that very thing when Mark Watson, the building maintenanceman, knocked on my door. Tessa told me they call him “Doc” Watson,because he can do or fix anything, from helping her move hercomputer desk closer to the window, to making the quirkyelectricity in this old building work. I’d never met him before,but that day, as I struggled with boxes of stuff I’d bought for myapartment, he offered to help me unload.
At Tessa’s description, I’d visualized him asfiftyish or even older, but this man could certainly pass formid-thirties. He was tall and muscular, with thick, wavy dark hairand brown eyes. He wore a beige sweater over a plaid shirt andjeans, and his shoes were heavy work boots. We didn’t shake handsbecause both his arms were in use surrounding a large cardboardbox.
“I’m Watson,” he announced in a pleasant,deep voice. He entered, set the box down on the Victorian sofa inthe room and pulled out one of the objects inside. “Where do youwant Napoleon’s bust?”
“On the fireplace mantle.” I pointed and heput it there.
His right hand now free, I stretched mineforward to take it. “Thank you for coming. I’m Sherry Holmes.”
He smiled, and I noticed he had a greatsmile, even white teeth, and a firm jaw.
“Nice to meet you. Your grandmother, Mrs.Reynolds, said you were moving in. Glad to help.”
He peered into the box again. “You’ve got
