Still the same table at Simpsons.

************************************

Holmes: I have indeed, Watson. The solution ...

[Mary and Watson catch their breath]

Holmes: The Solution to this puzzle is Rotherhilde!

[A faint rumble of thunder - as of something or someone heavy approaching - is heard from the distance]
[Mary and Watson exchange confused looks.]

Holmes: Mrs Watson, I presume you still recall the time you were employed in the capacity of governess in the household of Mrs Cecil Forrester?

[Mary, her face blanching, casts an apprehensive glance towards her husband.]

Mary: I was young and I needed the money...

Holmes: During those days there was a valet working for Mr Forrester by the name of James Heywood Watsup, am I correct?

[Mary nods her head faintly, blanching even more.]

Watson: James? His name is James?

Holmes: Quite so, Watson. But there is even more to him. He is also known under the charming epithet of "The Valet of Fear", not only because neither scullery nor kitchen maid was safe from his amorous persecution. In fact he is the disreputable cousin of our esteemed Napoleon of Crime, Moriarty himself and part of his evil network!

[Mary white as linen, gasps for air like a trout in the milk, speech fails her.]

Holmes: A notorious rake, he led you, the innocent and inexperienced girl, astray. But he knew you would never condescend to an illicit love affair, so he made you his bride - and left you after the wedding night.

Mary (breaking down, sobbing in between words, casting imploring glances at Watson):
Oh Ja... John! It's all true! Can you forgive me? Oh please, say you do! I should have told you that I was married, but your offer was the only way to be happy at last... you and only you were my true husband... and when I did not hear of him for such a long time, I thought Watsup must have perished... and now I am a married twice...

[Mary is sobbing even harder.]

Watson (patting Mary's hand, making reasurring noises):
Tut, tut... do not distress yourself my dear... I understand. I am glad that so big a mist has finally lifted from your troubled past. But this scoundrel...

[Getting out his pistol and brandishing it.]

I will see you righted, if I have to swing for it.
And, by the Lord! I’ll be as good as my word.

Holmes (coldly):
Watson, enough of this. Drop that pistol! Your fair Mary is indeed your lawfully wedded wife and not a bigamist at all.

Mary and Watson gasp:
But how? Why?

Holmes: As I said, the solution to all this is Rotherhilde. Note Watson: Rotherhilde not Rotherhithe. When I said, that the mysterious letter Mary received was posted from Rotherhilde, I did not mean a place, but a woman.

[Again the rumble of thunder is heard, sounding nearer this time]
[A faint light of remembrance starts to dawn in Mary's eyes.]

Mary: Rotherhilde... but... but that was the name of the hefty German parlourmaid at Mrs. Forrester's. She left her position in service to go back to Germany and start a career as an opera singer!

Holmes: Indeed she was. And she was even more than that. Hilde Rother, or Rotherhilde as she is generally known, was the wife of Watsup long before he lured you to the altar!

[Music swelling up from the orchestra pit. It is Richard Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyrie".]

[Enter Rotherhilde flanked by her sisters Brünnhilde and Gerhilde.
All three wear a stern expression, long flowing robes that ill-conceal the charms of their very ample stature.]

Rotherhilde (with resonant, strong voice and a thick Germanic accent):
Yess, it iss oll trrue, Missis Wotsin. Ze scoundrel Watsup hass betrait us boz! Well...

Watson: Yes, what is it?

Rotherhilde (shoots him a sharp glance; continues, somewhat consternated):
Vell... vonce he lofed me ant ve became huzbant ant vife in seekrit vile ve vere vorking wiz ze Forresters. But he vaz a philandrer and heartbrokken I vent back to my old home country. I neffer knew he marrit you! I only hurt zat affter some time he vent avay to ze Vest Indies...

Male Voice offstage: I cannot understand a word this woman says! Is there an interpreter present here?

Rotherhilde (disdainfully): Pah! Spoilsport!
Well then, when I received the information, that my scandalous husband had reappeared on the scene, I returned to England without further delay. I was able to ascertain his whereabouts and win his trust. He made all his plans known to me and even made the promise to share Mary's money with me, in exchange for my cooperation. I pretended to go along with his evil schemes and posted the letter Mr Mustard brought to me. But then I remembered what my dear friend and colleague Irene had told me about the famous consulting detective of Baker Street, so I went straight to Mr. Holmes and acquainted him with the facts of the case.

Holmes (assuming a wistful look at the mention of Miss Adler's name):
Ah yes, Ire...

(catching himself, clearing his throat)

..member that, Miss Hilde. And in combination with the information I received from the Baker Street Irregulars, who conversed with Watsup on the warf, I was able to complete the picture. And thus - after Watsup abducted Mary and brought her aboard the steamship "Moriarty" to convey her to a secret hiding-place ...

Watson (interrupting him):
But why on earth should he do this? He did not love her, did he?

Holmes:
Certainly not... it was the lure of lucre, not love. But he could be very charming, if he chose. I am sure he thought that he could make Mary believe that he was her rightful husband and slowly reconcile her to the idea. Remember, he still thought she was a rich woman due to the Agra Treasure. His plan was to get his hands on her fortune.. and then, no doubt, to disappear again.

Watson (coloring with anger:)
Abominable scoundrel! And disappear he shall if there is still one ounce of strenght in me!

Holmes (imperturbed):
When Watsup brought Mary on board the Moriarty, there was a charming little surprise waiting for him. His loving wife Rotherhilde was already there, expecting him. Using his first amazement to her advantage, she broke, with her strong hands, one of the planks of the boat and hit Watsup over the head. In fact, it was this very piece of wood I have already shown to you.

[Rotherhilde is flexing her strong arm muscles. The men in the audience cast wary glances into her direction.]

Holmes: My good Watson, you were still unconscious from the blow over the head you had received and I had to make sure you were conveyed to Charing Cross Hospital. So it was a while until I arrived on board the Moriarty. But Rotherhilde had already made a good job of it. Watsup was bound and gagged like a present ready to be handed over to Lestrade. And Miss Rotherhilde stood on deck bellowing orders to the crew of the Moriarty.

Mary (singing under her breath): For she's got a jolly good bellow...

Watson: Waiter! A bottle of Rhine wine, and be quick about it, man! Let's all raise our glass to Rotherhilde!

Holmes (rising from his seat and raising his glass):
Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this compatriot of Von Bork...

Mary, Watson and the Hilde sisters in unison:
Cut out the poetry, Holmes!

[Curtain falls. Silence falls.]

Male voice offstage:
I want my money back!

FINIS