The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures - Mike Ashley [221]
“You have arrived just in time, Watson,” Holmes said as I returned to 221b Baker Street after a stroll one crisp February morning. There was a twinkle in his eye as he added, “I am expecting a visit from that rarest of creatures – a lawyer who is prepared to put his hand in his own pocket, rather than that of one of his clients, to pay for my professional services.”
“Wonders never cease, Holmes!” I said lightly. “The circumstances which bring him here must be remarkable indeed.”
My friend gave a dry chuckle. “They possess certain features which are of interest. It seems that Mr Matthew Dowling took a young man into his firm believing him to be a Dr Jekyll, but now has reason to fear that he may also be in partnership with a Mr Hyde.”
I was delighted to see Holmes in a genial humour. For several months he had been engaged on a series of cases of the utmost consequence and of late his temper had begun to suffer. I regarded this as a warning sign that he might again be putting his health at risk. Some of his investigations had to be conducted in circumstances of the greatest secrecy and it must suffice to say that on one occasion during this period the destiny of a throne depended upon his personal intervention. Other cases excited the attention of the Press and general public throughout the land and I may in due course put them into print. These included the business of the Lincoln seamstress and her extraordinary pets and the conundrum which I have referred to in my notebook as the case of the melancholy wicket-keeper.
The strange features of those puzzles, coupled with the undeniable pleasure Holmes experienced in seeking to succeed, through the rigorous application of logic, where extensive police work had failed, at least meant that he had no need of artificial stimulation. I feared above all that he might resort again to cocaine if boredom threatened. For all that, I was concerned that the nervous energy he had expended would once again take its toll. He was himself aware of the punishing effect on his constitution of the long hours he had been working and in recent weeks a couple of chance remarks had suggested that he was beginning to contemplate retirement. Much as I relished our collaborations, my first concern was his well-being and the eagerness with which I anticipated his response to a fresh challenge was therefore matched by the silent hope that it would not tax him beyond endurance.
“So your new client has a junior partner who leads a double life?” I asked.
“Of sorts. Perhaps you would like to read what the solicitor has to say?”
He tossed me a letter bearing the previous day’s date and a private address in Doughty Street.
Dear Mr Sherlock Holmes, – I am aware of the considerable esteem in which you are held as a consulting detective and my cousin Mr Toblas Wrigley speaks highly of your work in connection with Madame Montalambert’s affidavit. I should therefore like to consult you personally in a matter of the utmost sensitivity. It concerns not a client of my firm, but rather Mr John Abergavenny, whom I invited to become my junior partner a little less than twelve months ago. I took him in, believing that he was a competent, likeable and trustworthy young fellow who would adhere to the same high standards which I have always set for myself. Yet his personality has suddenly undergone a grotesque and inexplicable transformation. He has become an incompetent and a debauchee. He has also threatened to commit suicide. I have taxed him on these matters, but his response has been wholly unacceptable. I have no wish to be unfair to him, but I cannot permit conduct which may damage the firm whose reputation I have laboured these past thirty years to establish, especially as we act for clients in the most sensitive transactions. I am left contemplating the need to dissolve our partnership, but before taking such a drastic step, I should be most grateful for your professional opinion. If it