Ted Riccardi - Between the Thames and the Tiber

“It was only after Sir Jaswant’s success in London that Pepe’s existence became difficult. When his marriage to Lady Singh approached, he decided that Pepe could no longer live in London, where a special house had been kept for him. I, an old friend of Jaswant’s, was hired solely to take care of Pepe. Sir Jaswant decided that if he purchased a large villa outside of England Pepe might be happy there. And so we find ourselves here, dear Mr. Holmes, near the villa bought for Pepe to live in, our lives brought together by the existence of this strange but human creature. At first, it worked and Pepe stayed, alone and happy, roaming the trees, never even glimpsed by the local people. But one day, I could not find him. I searched everywhere. Three weeks later, Sir Jaswant notified me that Pepe had somehow returned to England.

“It was then that the problems began. Pepe attacked several people in London, fortunately none of whom died. Sir Jaswant, without making himself known, paid handsomely to keep these events secret. But Pepe’s temper, and his cruelty, have grown more unpredictable despite the kindness with which he has been treated. Indeed, his misbehaviour has increased since Sir Jaswant’s marriage to Lady Singh.”

“As Habib talked, Watson, I observed the creature. He was about three and a half feet tall, but perfectly formed to human proportions, except for his hands and feet, which were tiny. He was extremely well muscled, with smooth yellow skin, almost gold in color. He had a full head of dark, dirty hair and a countenance made horrific by a great sullen powerlessness that issued forth from his dark eyes Indeed, I at first found it difficult to meet his gaze until I realised that his eyes hid the mind of a child.

“And that is his weapon of attack?” I asked, pointing to what looked like a fly whisk that lay next to Pepe.

“Yes, he makes them regularly. He uses it to kill small animals for food. The feathers he takes from birds. The sound and the feel of them calm the victim just before the sharp blade-like part of the weapon is used.”

Within the feathers, I found attached a white object, whittled out of bone with an extremely sharp point, so sharp that even a touch of the point penetrated the skin.

“A small dab of poison on the end of this and the victim’s quick death is assured.”

“Yes,” said Habib, “but luckily Pepe has limited access to such things.”

“I left Habib, confident that he would not allow Pepe to escape, at least for the moment. I returned to the hotel in Positano to find our two lady friends anxious about my return. The doctors were guarded about your prognosis, but towards morning you took a turn for the better. They suggested two more days in hospital for rest before you ventured out. I then asked that the ladies leave Positano for Pienza, Lady Maxwell’s residence, where they would be safe. I said nothing about what Habib had told me. They left in the morning, and I promised Lady Maxwell that you and I might call on her someday soon after our return to Rome.

“I then went to the Villa Alessandrini to await the arrival of Sir Jaswant Singh. Habib and Niccolini were already there. I told Niccolini of the events of the night and of your condition. A look of anger passed over his face.

“You have brought a monster to our region,” he said to Habib. “The law will not be easy with you.”

“Please listen to Sir Jaswant before you make your decisions,” said Habib. “Something has gone wrong with our plans.”

Within an hour, a phaeton drew up to the villa, and Sir Jaswant, one of Britain’s most powerful men, alighted. He was a tall man, about fifty, lithe and graceful in his movements. He boasted a dark black beard, and his head had been shaved clean.

“My deep apologies, gentlemen, for the grief that has been caused here. I hope that we can make amends for what has happened.”

He motioned us to the sitting room, where we sat and discussed what was to be done. He argued eloquently for his point of view, and finally convinced Niccolini, who was the most recalcitrant.

“In essence, I affirm,” said the banker, “that if the Italian authorities bring no criminal charge against Pepe, Habib, me or my family, that I will take Pepe to a home for the criminally violent and insane, near the Franco-Swiss border, where he will reside permanently at my expense. He will never enter either England or Italy again. The reason for my tardy arrival is due to the complicated arrangements I was forced to make with the authorities at the borders. At first they refused to allow Pepe’s entry, but now there is no difficulty. In addition, since my wife’s experience has been so painful, I am prepared to deed the Villa Alessandrini to the citizens of Ravello to house an orphanage for the town and surrounding villages. My wife and her sister are only dimly aware of Pepe’s existence and I wish that it remain so. Amendola has indicated to Habib that a sufficient emolument will seal his lips and calm his fears.”

“Sir Jaswant,” said Niccolini, “the attacks on Amendola and Watson are criminal offenses in Italy, and it is difficult for me to overlook them. However, if Watson also agrees, then I will go no further with the matter.”

“I cannot speak for Watson. He is fully conscious now and capable of deciding on his own. You must ask him,” said Holmes.

It was a short time after that the assembled gentlemen visited me at our hotel. After listening to Sir Jaswant’s entreaties, I agreed to the arrangements and directed that during my convalescence Holmes be empowered to speak for me.

The following morning Sir Jaswant and Habib left for Berne with their strange baggage. Holmes and I remained in Ravello for another week and then returned to Rome. He had much to say about the “the small human being,” as he referred to him.

“Pepe is from some distant shore of the Indian Ocean, the Andaman Channel or perhaps even Australia, dear Watson, and while I was willing to accommodate Sir Jaswant in the matter, I am sure that our small human friend appeared in his life long before his sea journey to America. He indeed may appear again. In the end, it may not matter at all, however.”

Shortly thereafter, Holmes left for Pienza, where he remained for several weeks. It was the beginning of a deep relationship with Lady Maxwell that lasted well over a decade, until her tragic death in a riding accident on the road to Montepulciano. Holmes was with her when she died. In so far as one can, he has recovered from this great bereavement and has moved on. One of his consolations has been the lines of Goethe:Aber abseits, wer ist’s?Im Gebusch verliert sichsein Pfad;hinter ihm schlagendie Sträuche zusammen,das Gras steht wieder auf,die Öde verschlingt ihn.

A CASE OF CRIMINAL MADNESS

IT WAS IN THE SPRING OF 1901 THAT SHERLOCK HOLMES received formal notice that he had been elected to the Accademia dei Lincei , one of the oldest and most prestigious of the scientific academies of Europe. He beamed with pride, unable to conceal his pleasure, as he handed the ornate letter of appointment over to me.

“My compliments, old boy, you certainly are deserving of it.”

“Without doubt, Watson,” he said self-mockingly, “and you will note that the letter states that I am one of only three Englishmen to receive the honour since it was bestowed upon Newton himself.”

“The letter says that you are to deliver a lecture at the Accademia within the next three months,” said I, running my fingers over the embossed letters.

“Yes,” he said. “I have already chosen the topic: The Master Criminal.”

Holmes worked furiously on the paper, and delivered it to great acclaim in Rome, in October of that year. In a short time, it became justly famous for its brilliant analysis of the criminal mind. In it, Holmes argued that crime of the common kind is almost entirely the result of the influence of society. The common pickpocket, the petty burgler, the swindler, even the angry murderer, are all part of the intricate social web in which we live. They are simply the prisoners of society and the victims of its many cruelties.