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It was a pale winter's day when my friend Holmes introduced to me a new case, of which I found much interest in. I had been spending a great amount of time in his Kensington apartment for my wife was away for a month travelling with a good friend and so I had time on my hands.
Like most of his cases it appeared to be a mixture of mystery and criminal act and I found my heart quickening as he began to divulge the details to me.
"Watson, I would like to ask your consideration of a new case that has been given to me. It is at first mundane but upon loser inspection proves more than puzzling".
His piercing eyes focused upon me with the same peculiar intensity with which he considers clues for a case. As the violent thunder of a high powered car interrupted the quiet of the room, I nodded my head and so he began with his eyelids lowered, reclined in his armchair.
"A Mr Davenport of the Church Street Bookshop in Marleybone has come upon me asking for assistance regarding a matter of theft and more. He writes that not only have a number of thefts occurred within the last fortnight but also a strange assortment of incidents, the first being a number of books found to have been dislodged and sadly damaged. Upon inspection Mt Davenport found the aisles of his shop to be quite empty. He at once assumed the act to have been a freak event in which the books tumbled to the ground under their own weight.
A day later he had a customer come quite frightened to his counter near the front of the book shop and complain quite vigorously of a shadow that she felt adhered to the recessed back of the book shop. He apologized and before he could offer assistance she had left without a further word. After an inspection he found his electricity to be quite fine and all bulbs in full working order.
Then, not three days later he smelled a quite strong scent of burning. It was one that he was not familiar with but reminded him of the herb garden in a country manor garden.
He called in a building surveyor with immediacy but the professional had not a clue or concern as to the scent, simply suggesting that the shop door had been left open and a street smell had wafted in.
Yet here Mr Daveport was quite firm in his letter here, writing that he never left the shop door open for his air-condition and heating units maintained the appropriate temperature and humidity for his collection of antique books
The fourth incident was five days back and involved a strange banging that seemed to emanate from within the very bookshelves. Mr Daveport left his counter and made his way around the shop but didn't manage to locate the source of the banging. His words in the letter were that it was quite omniscient.
Lastly, this most recent occurrence and most shocking was the theft of several books.
Whilst the book seller stocks a great number of valuable books, costing hundreds of pounds or even more in some cases, the books that were stolen were all of the same theme. They were relating to gardening and were quite modern. The theft cost him close to seventy pounds but the thief evades the Metropolitan Police and Mr Davenport has come to me to ask for help regarding these strange goings-on."
Holmes sat forward then and picked up his pipe, breathing deeply with his eyes closed.
I considered the details of this latest mystery and felt with certainty that it was beyond even Holme's skills. I couldn't possibly see how so many odd incidents could ever assist in locating a criminal who had stolen merely a few books.
Yet Holmes was looking alert once more and his eyes promised confidence.
"Now that I have imparted the strange details of this case to you I would be quite interested in hearing your opinion as to whether the criminal can be found and if so, how."
"I can't possibly say" I replied with feeling. "It seems absurd to consider such a range of incidences and to then locate a common theme."
"Ah but my dear Watson" Holmes exclaimed. "If it wasn't for the range of incidences I wouldn't have a hope in finding the criminal. As it is I think I may have got it."
How can you have, if I cannot see beyond the individual occurrences?" I remarked. Holmes chuckled quietly. "It is quite obvious really Watson. Do pay attention."
He stood up suddenly and began to pace the dimly lit room. If it wasn't for the fire crackling merrily in the hearth I wouldn't have been able to see his face at all.
"The banging sound for example. He thought it to be emanating from the actual bookshelves. Pray what do you say to that?"
"Well, he was obviously mistaken" I replied confidently.
"Indeed. So what would you suggest?" he asked, still striding back and froth across the room with pipe in his clasped hands held behind his back.
"It could have been from nearby. Say the level above perhaps."
Holmes stopped and looked frankly at my, his visage appearing far older in the flickering light.
"You are hot on the trail Watson. I might however challenge your assumption that the upper level is where the sound was coming from but to confirm my theory I must visit."
He strode to the table and flicked through his calendar before stabbing a finger upon a date.
"I am going to visit tomorrow and I would greatly appreciate a companion and level headed viewpoint if you would be so kind as to accompany me?"
I nodded and replied "Of course Holmes. I would never miss one of your cases for the world."
Outside the light was weaker than ever and so I laid out a meagre supper whilst Holmes played his ebony violin.
The following morning, having telephoned ahead, Holmes and I found ourselves heading through London's busy centre towards Church Street Bookshop. The traffic was constant but the taxi-car's interior remained quiet.
Holmes lay slumped back with his eyes closed and so I peered from the window and tried to make sense of what could have befallen Mr Davenport's bookshop.
Soon the familiar sight of Marleybone's white church could be seen and a minute later Holmes roused and stopped the taxi.
After giving a generous donation, we both left the car and stepped onto the pavement, pulling our coats tight around us for the wind was fierce and bitter that day.
"Feel free to enter the bookshop whilst I have a brief look about outside" Holmes said.
I looked up and noticed an aged fabric shade leaning from a Victorian brick terraced building emblazoned with the words 'Church Street Book Shop'. Without further prompting I stole inside and breathed out as warmth washed over me. A small bell tinkled above me and I noticed a small bespectacled many peer up at me from a sales desk to my right.
"Good afternoon. How can I be of help?" he asked.
"Are you Mr Davenport of the Church Street Book Shop good sir?" I asked, knowing the answer but not wanting to give Holmes an introduction without his consent.
The old man replied "I am indeed. Is there something particular I can help you with?" and I noticed a slight squint from behind his round glasses.
A tinkle prevented my reply for Holmes was by my side.
"I am Mr Holmes" he announced to the book seller. "I take it you are Mr Davenport?".
His repeat of my question was taken well by Mr Davenport who merely nodded and said with releif "Well met Mr Holmes. I am most glad you could come. Is there anything I can do that can help your investigation?"
He wrung his hands a little as he spoke and, along with the twitching, I could see that he was quite in anguish over the last week's occurrences.
"A few answers would be most useful if you were not too busy?" Holmes inquired.
The bookseller shook his head "I'm rarely busy these days what with all f the goings on. Word travels, you see. I will try to answer your questions to the best of my knowledge."
Holmes nodded and began his typically sporadic interrogation.
"Let me begin with some questions about your neighbours. Are you on good terms with them?"
Mr Daveport's face twisted as he replied. "Not at all! I barely see them truth be told and when I do I don't want to see them any longer. They are clearly vagabonds of the worst kind" Mr Daveport ejaculated.
"Interesting" Holmes put in.
"Do you have any reasoning behind this judgement of character?"
"Well they are shady types, preferring night to day. I hear them moving around and banging about sometimes next door but recently they've been rather more quiet."
Holmes paused and he seemed to confirm something within his own mind.
"And may I ask whether you have felt overly warm in your shop?"
The bookseller appeared taken aback at this most recent question and nodded vehemently.
"Yes. Yes I have! By golly, how did you know?" he ejaculated.
"I have my ways" Holmes replied before turning to myself.
"Watson, I think we are done here today" He turned back to Mr Daveport.
"Mr Davenport. Expect us to visit tonight at midnight. We shall be bringing pistols and dressing darkly and so you should too."
Then he turned after nodding to the perplexed bookseller and left the shop, leaving the door bell tinkling.
I too bid farewell to the bespectacled man and followed Holmes, wondering what solution Holmes had managed to read from the strange occurrences within the Church Street Book shop.
It was much later that evening that Holmes even spoke to me for he was in a pensive mood and seemed trapped within his own mind. As we were seated in front of a roaring fire back in his apartments, Holmes turned to me and said "You know Watson. I do believe this case is quite obvious now. I would like to know your own opinion on the case however." He turned with a glint in his eye and asked "Pray, Watson, what do you say is the reason behind these mysteries going on in Mr Davenport's shop?"
His pipe whistled slightly as he breathed in.
"Well" I replied, trying to form an answer of some strength.
"I feel that the noise must be from nefarious acts underground, the smell must be from an outdoorsy type and the power cuts from someone meddling with nearby power lines. Combined I would suggest some sort of underground garden."
I laughed as I realized how ridiculous the hypothesis sounded, to my own ears let alone to Holmes's.
To my surprise Holmes actually nodded and said "Quite right Watson. I do believe you are getting better even if you yourself do not!"
He stood up and went to the bookshelf, taking a folder of police reports with him back to his armchair.
Every few minutes he would exclaim but otherwise no more of the evening was taken up with such discussion. Shortly after Holmes's favourite radio transmission began and afterwards we ended the evening with a short nap.
All too soon my alarm was waking me up however and Holmes and I found ourselves inside a taxi cab once more headed to Marleybone.
After the cab stopped we stepped out into the cold winter's air. I enjoyed the sight of mist coming from my own mouth in the light of the street lamp nearby but Holmes strode ahead and bent low to the corner of the bookshop facade. Chained to the lamp were three bicycles, locked together in a mess of metal.
I followed hurriedly after Holmes, not wanting to miss his examination.
Holmes was crouched in front of a white washed vent in the bottom left hand corner of the bookshop. He appeared to be inhaling.
"Holmes" I exclaimed "What are you doing?"
After a few more sniffs he turned to me and asked me to sniff.
"It smells quite of herbs! And what lovely warmth too!" I couldn't believe that such a strange scent was coming from the unassuming vent.
Holmes stood then and motioned for me to follow. From his stride, a swift for miles per hour I would imagine, could tell that he had solved the case.
I followed, yearning to discover his theory.
We entered to the familiar tinkle of the bell above the door and there was Mr Davenport blinking nervously in the bright lights of his shop. He was wearing the same clothing as he had earlier and I supposed that he had stayed in the shop the whole evening.
Holmes stepped forward and gripped the small man's hand.
"I have an answer for you my dear bookseller but I fear that it is not one you would want to hear."
The bookseller looked a little shaken but nodded "Oh that is good news - I just want an answer. My mind has been pushed to the brink worrying about these recent occurrences."
"What we have here Mr Davenport is a case of bad neighbours I'm afraid!" Holmes said to the bookseller.
He then proceeded to describe how he saw the events of the last few weeks.
"The nefarious inhabitants of the house next door have police records I must inform you. Worse however is their recent activity. The vibrations you felt were the excavation process by which they dug underneath your own shop, threatening the very foundations upon which your customers walked. Next they tapped into your electricity, siphoning it off to illuminate and in fact heat their new underground room.
The herbal smell you detected was from the drub Cannabis."
He paused theatrically and then stated to the room "Your three neighbours are drug growers i'm sorry to say and really quite good at it!"
"Of course!" I exclaimed before seeing Mr Davenport's wretched countenance. I felt immediately guilty and attempted to comfort the poor man.
"At least you don't have a pest invasion my good man. Also it's lucky that-" Holmes cut me off with a shrill whistle and I turned to see him standing quite erect with a strong lively look that seemed to animate him quite thoroughly.
"No worries Mr Davenport please. Your neighbours are yours no longer"
I was as entranced as Mr Davenport, who began to ask with fervour what Holmes meant when a sudden flashing light filled the front window and a siren screamed into the night.
"The police are here to claim their latest criminals" Holmes told us and we peered out of the window all together to see men in uniform dragging three handcuffed figures towards the police car.
I marvel even now as I write of this most satisfactory case mainly for Holme's ability to create theatre wherever he wishes.
That night was quite remarkable, filled with a brimming elation from having helped solve a case and also having borne witness to the final unfolding scene.
Mr Davenport was quite overjoyed and his shop does as well now as it ever has done.
I was gladdened that I had actually come quite close to solving the case but when we left Mr Davenport to his shop, after refusing many gifts of books and accepting many more I had a question still upon my mind.
The cab ride proved the ideal opportunity to pose it to Holmes who seemed out of character that night and actively looked about as we we driven through London.
"Holmes. I understand much of the case now and I see that I was in fact quite close. But how, may I ask, did you know that the neighbours were all involved? Could not one or two of them be innocent?"
Holmes paused and appeared to scrutinize the seat in front of him before replying.
"A good question Watson but easily answered. You recall that I examined the property without you on the first visit to the shop?"
I nodded
"Well I discovered three bicycles out the back - the ones that were out the front just earlier and they appeared to be locked together by the same lock. Now tell me how three people who are so close as to lock their bicycles together and thus ride them most likely at the same time cannot be part of such a scheme as drug growing? At the very least they are each either an accessory to the main crime or at worst they are responsible for growing the drugs. And that is why the police arrested all three."
"Good work Holmes. Once more you saw what I couldn't. It was really quite an exciting end to the day."
Holmes nodded appreciatively "It was, wasn't it?"
We both laughed then before Holmes said "You do know Watson that I only see what you see. It's how much understanding you gain from what you see that is important."
I knew that he was right and so I simply replied with a yes and enjoyed the rest of the cab ride home in silence before heading to bed directly.
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