Paul Gilbert - The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes

Holmes clapped his hands together gleefully. ‘Excellent Watson! Evidently your domestic dramas have sharpened your faculties. However, valid as your observations undoubtedly are, your conclusions are somewhat wide of the mark. For example, if Mr Crosby’s situation was as dire as you presume it to be why does he request an evening consultation? I would have been more persuaded of its urgency had he arrived here before you! Furthermore, I am convinced that the ragged state of his writing materials is due more to his impoverished position than to any lack of thought. See here the black thumbmark on the bottom right-hand corner. Of course none of this means that there is no urgency involved, but there are certainly other factors to be taken into consideration.’

I nodded gravely. ‘Why should he be so insistent on arriving after sunset? It is a most unusual turn of phrase.’

‘For the answer to that we shall have to await the evening,’ Holmes replied.

‘We?’ I queried his assumption.

‘I had hoped that you would be prepared to spend the day in my company. I am certain that Mrs Hudson is well able to double the rations of supper, and perhaps you might aid me in my interview of the nocturnal Randell Crosby. Unless, of course, you have some more pressing matters elsewhere?’

‘Not at all.’ I smiled. ‘I should be delighted!’

‘Ha! That is more like the Watson of old.’ Holmes laughed.

As it turned out, Mrs Hudson was well able to accommodate me for both luncheon and supper and to my great surprise Holmes was only too willing to help me collate the notes of our most recently completed case. Normally he took little interest in my ‘humble scratchings’, however the Adventure of the Aspiring Architect had proved to be such a personal triumph for Holmes and his seldom reported ability of transposing himself into the place of the criminal by way of meditation, that he wished to ensure that the story was laid out correctly.

Although I was subsequently duty bound to embellish the story with sufficient dramatic content to satisfy my public, by the time the supper things had been removed and the sun had gone down, we were both reasonably satisfied with the results of our labour. It had soon become quite dark outside and we now prepared ourselves for the visit of Randell Crosby.

Alas, even upon our first glance at the poor fellow, Holmes’s assessment of Crosby’s impecunious circumstances was confirmed. Holmes, of course, thought nothing of such things, but I was certain that Mrs Hudson, had she been present, would have taken pains to cover her chair before allowing Crosby access to it.

Crosby shuffled slowly into the room, his gait that of a man twenty years his senior, although, as we learned later he was only thirty-five years of age. He was of average height, although his stoop rendered him shorter. He wore an old greatcoat, two sizes too large for him and caked in grime, a dusty bowler, and a long scarf that covered most of his pale unshaven face. When he spoke it was in a surprisingly modulated tone, albeit at a volume so soft that he was barely audible.

‘I must apologize both for my appearance and the lateness of the hour, gentlemen, and yet I am certain that once I have explained my situation you will surely bear me forgiveness.’

Holmes smiled sympathetically towards him and waved him towards a spare seat.

‘Mr Crosby, please explain to me in precise detail the true nature of your predicament and how you consider that I might be of assistance to you,’ Holmes requested quietly.

Clearly uncomfortable in these surroundings and incommoded by his personal circumstances and attire, Crosby repeatedly shifted nervously on the edge of his seat.

‘Calm yourself, Mr Crosby,’ Holmes kindly reassured him. ‘Perhaps a glass of Cognac and a Dutch panatella might go some way towards easing your nerves,’ he suggested, indicating to me that I should supply these aids.

Crosby gratefully received both the drink and cigar. He bowed his head. ‘Both very fine indeed, gentlemen.’

‘Mr Crosby, you have evidently been both raised and educated as a gentleman. Perhaps you might find it easier to begin by explaining how you have come to your present circumstance.’ Holmes proposed.

‘That will prove to be easier than you might think. Whilst it is true that my upbringing was very much as you have suggested, it was also obvious, from a very early age, that it would not always be so.’ Crosby drew upon his cigar and sipped from his glass before continuing.

‘In order that you might not preconceive any judgement upon my family, I should immediately point out that they had experienced much anguish and no little expense in determining both my condition and how best to cope with its consequences.’

Observing my own quizzical glance at the mention of the word ‘condition’ Crosby directed his next words in my direction. ‘Even allowing for your vast knowledge and experience, Dr Watson, I am certain that not even you will have heard of “Solar Urticaria”.’

‘Upon my word, I have not!’ I exclaimed, whilst making my way towards the small remnant of my medical library that still remained in Baker Street.

Crosby called me to a halt. ‘Do not trouble yourself, Doctor, for I can assure you that my own experience has given me a knowledge of the condition that will far exceed anything that your learned volume might provide. As its very name suggests, “Solar Utricaria” is aggravated by exposure to direct sunlight. Even bright daylight might produce an effect on the skin.’

Having sensed Crosby’s hesitation Holmes prompted: ‘And what effect is this, Mr Crosby?’

‘Monstrous large red welts, the size of leeches, immediately form on every unprotected surface of my skin the very instant that it is exposed to natural light. The effect that this apparition had on any observer soon made it obvious to my parents that it would be impossible for me to leave the confines of our home during the hours of daylight.’

‘Good Lord, how awful!’ I exclaimed. ‘Of course, that would explain your unusually pale complexion.’

‘Indeed.’ Crosby gravely acknowledged my comment with a slow nodding of his head, ‘Due to the fact that these welts are slow to disappear, socializing, of every description was impossible. I was even educated at home! My beloved parents employed the very best private tutors who taught me well in every subject. However as I grew older I came to realize that the strain of the burden upon my parents, both emotionally and financially, was proving too great to bear. This despite the fact that they took great pains to conceal it.’ Crosby then paused for a moment to draw gratefully upon his cigar and to sip at his brandy.

‘Their love and compassion knew no bounds. So I then resolved to spare them further heartbreak by taking my leave of the family home. My brother, Nathaniel, was proving a great success at his chosen career of banking and I was certain that he would prove to be a great comfort to them as they mourned my departure.

‘Therefore, at the age of thirty-two, with but a few possessions and a little allowance money that I had managed to save, I found myself in an outside world of which I had very little knowledge and experience. In order to avoid the attentions of those whom my parents might set to finding me, I resolved to travel. I managed to ingratiate myself with the owners of a small travelling carnival that was, fortuitously, heading towards the West Country. I kept my head covered during the day and worked with the keeper at feeding and cleaning out the various creatures that formed part of the show. The owners, Mr and Mrs Josiah Smythe of Blackheath, were most kind to me and gave me board and a small allowance for my efforts. However there were two caravan drivers, with a leaning towards drink, whose curiosity as to my covered head was becoming increasingly difficult to ward off.