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 The Adventure of Essex Parish |
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| Part Two by by Joe Gombarcik |
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As I attempted to search for the proper words to
console the Alsens, Holmes interrupted in a quick,
unexpected and rather rude fashion, asking our hosts
forgiveness in allowing the two of us to have a few
moments to deliberate in private. The couple, slightly
taken aback, assured us it was nevertheless quite all
right, and Mr. Alsen offered to help his wife in the
kitchen prepare our tea. Once the pair were beyond
hearing, Holmes turned toward me and lowered his
voice.
"Be careful of what you say here, Watson," he said.
My confusion mounted as he added, "I advise caution
until we review the assumed roles of all our players
in this little drama."
To punctuate his statement, he explained, "Mrs.
Alsen is guarding her remarks."
I began to protest in defense of the delicate woman,
until I realized that the great detective usually had
adequate reason for a blunt statement or specific
course of action.
Still, I was thoroughly distraught.
Holmes sensed my eagerness, for I must have seemed
like an anxious schoolgirl with a great list of
questions. He held up a hand before I could interrupt
and paused before offering his observations to me.
"Watson, it is not my way -- as you very well know
-- to speculate on a case without gathering sufficient
information. However, you are now to the point in your
exposure to my methods that some background data may
alleviate some confusions and help you to more
effectively learn my procedures. You once asked for
more insights into the paths of my mental processes.
So I will entertain any or all queries you may have
regarding the case at this time."
I launched immediately into a question with nary a
pause: "Yes, excellent, Holmes! To begin: pray tell,
why have you undertaken this investigation with little
or no evidence?"
"Instinct, my friend. And years of experience. It is
all based on two simple, seemingly innocuous names.
The name of the victim in question is Garry. It is
also a name I am familiar with from a previous case.
The pseudonym, also, is curious and begs an
investigation. The title of 'Creepy' is quite unusual.
While it may have origins in an Americanized euphemism
or a reference to the cloying properties of a
'creeping ivy,' there comes to mind one other
derivation, when we take into account our location."
He moved in closer so we would not be overheard.
"It is not generally known that Mrs. Stapleton, in
confessing her part in the nefarious plot of the
horrid Baskerville case not long ago, mentioned that
she had a name for the brutish creature of which she
knew before Stapleton turned it into a killer. This,
too, she called 'Creepy.' Curious, is it not? Not your
usual name for a canine. But understandable."
He glanced at the kitchen before resuming.
"Coincidence? Perhaps. But it is enough to set me 'on
the scent,'so to speak. There were other indications,
but these will do for now."
"But, Holmes," I interjected, "what possible
connection can there be between a simple parish
assistant and the creature?"
"Again, there is a degree of conjecture at this
point...but allow me ask you: have you ever wondered
whatever became of the caretaker, the old manservant,
that fed and hid the Hound while Stapleton went off
occasionally to town? You see, Watson, this man,
introduced to guests as Anthony, had a last name,
according to the testimony of Mrs. Stapleton, of
'Garry!' Further information about the missing parish
caretaker revealed that the man did not speak much;
however, when he did, his voice was compared to a
'lisp with a touch of an accent,' according to our
Vicar McKye, and was not unlike a foreign accent!
Anthony, too, had a lisping accent. At the time, it
was thought to be Spanish."
I thought of my very own descriptive words in the
chronicle of the case, as Holmes continued:
"So you understand that this remains a formidable
series of coincidences that still peaks my interest."
I nodded in agreement. The detective suddenly looked
grave as he stared out a nearby window. "But, if this
is so, it is obvious that the woman could not know the
parish assistant for as long as she implies. We must
ask, as a result, why the deception?"
"But, Holmes," I jumped, struck by a sudden notion,
"the Baskerville caretaker was described as an older
gentleman, perhaps of Spanish descent. Mister
Garry does not seem to be that old."
Holmes merely looked at me inscrutably. "Indeed," he
said. "Remember, Watson, I believe you yourself have
been taken in by some of my own disguises."
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