I'm going to cheat a little this month and only write part of a post. See, I already wrote the other part in March 2019. It was a piece for a very fine publication, and it happens to deal with a subject that we Sherlockians take very seriously - 'His Last Bow' (LAST). It is the only case in The Canon which is undoubtedly dated correctly in this very month, and it's a darn good yarn to boot. So, let's talk about it.
LAST falls on August 2, 1914, and no one says otherwise. The story is excellent, and it is the last case of all of the original sixty. It's holy ground. It's also where we get easily the saddest line said in The Canon - "Stand with me here upon the terrace, for it may be the last quiet talk that we shall ever have." Yep...gets me every time.
But...
Holmes does say “it may be the last quiet talk,” but I’m troubled by something here: what about the conversation in the car? After all, it is a three-hour trip from the Harwich area to London in a modern car, thus longer then. What did they talk about? We know from numerous examples in The Canon that they would sit in complete silence on trips sometimes, but this isn’t like that at all. (There’s also the matter of the ride to the gabled house, but it was brief.) Holmes tells Von Bork that he will be going with he and Watson to Scotland Yard, and by the text it appears that would be happening in Watson’s Ford.
Now, I accept that the chat on the terrace was more intimate, and the one they would’ve had in the car would be less so because of the hogtied spy in the backseat, but they still would’ve talked. Maybe they caught a plane somewhere nearby and flew to London, but Holmes does say that Watson would be joining up with his old service and that London wouldn’t be out of his way. So, it still looks like it was a long car ride together.
Anyway, I thought I’d try my hand with at least part of what they discussed, but not for the entire trip. Here we go…
“Quite a night,” Holmes said, settling into his seat.
“I agree. But, you pulled it off with precision.”
“Watson, we’ve known each other for more than 30 years. When have I not?”
“Do you really want me to recall some of your less-than-impressive episodes?”
Holmes sat quietly for a moment and then cleared his throat. “So, tell me about this automobile of yours. Business must be good.”
“Why didn’t you ask me this when we were in here earlier?”
“I was too busy getting into character. And I didn’t wish to take you out of your roll. After all, the fate of the world may have depended on us getting our parts absolutely correct. Besides, I explained everything well enough, I believe.”
“Yes, Holmes,” Watson said wryly, “’just follow my lead’ was more than enough explanation.”
“So, what can you tell me about this model?”
“It truly is a marvel, isn’t it? The Americans really seem to have these motorcars down to a science. I find it a perfectly pleasant way of traversing England. Mrs. Watson truly loves it. Do you like it?”
“I wouldn’t use the word ‘like.’ It’s to be applauded.” Holmes turned to check on their passenger. Von Bork stared back at him coldly and spat on the floor.
“You don’t find it noisy or noxious?”
“It is both noisy and noxious,” Holmes said, turning forward again, “but the smell is certainly preferable to that of horse exhaust.”
Watson laughed. “I couldn’t agree more, old friend.”
“It is precisely this type of industrial achievement that makes retirement so wonderful. No one near my cottage has one of these contraptions yet, and hopefully won’t anytime soon. Should someone, however, I suppose I will just have to accept it as another example of progress.”
“I suppose I could rumble around on occasion to remind you of the advances of the world.”
Holmes shot a side glance at Watson. “The newspapers will suffice.”
“Speaking of the papers, you should know I still have a number of your cases left to publish. They may be a bit late and out of sequence, but hopefully no one will ever take the time to worry about such silliness as dates.”
“Do with them what you must. When I tried my hand at them I didn’t find it a pleasurable experience.”
“Oh, I thought they were quite good.”
“Well, they did help pay for more hives, so I’ll take solace in that.”
“It wouldn’t be Christian of me not to offer you a room tonight.”
“Nonsense. I’ve no desire to be an imposition. Claridge’s will suit me fine. Mycroft has arranged a car to take me there.”
“As you wish. How is he, anyway?”
“As well as a man his size can be. After your ill-timed publication about the Bruce-Partington submarine, he had to stay out of the public eye as much as possible. I must say, though, that you did an excellent job hiding the actual dates of the events. Still, he became more of a marked man than a government official usually is simply because of his involvement, not to mention his association with yours truly.”
“I meant no harm.”
“Understood by all. But, you asked. Now, if I may I’d like to rest for a bit. The last two years have culminated, and I am finally able to somewhat relax my mind.” Holmes turned to Von Bork once again. The German just stared silently out the window, no doubt trying to envision a plan to allow himself freed of certain incarceration.
“Have you your revolver, doctor?”
“Always,” Watson said with a smile and nod. “I shall do my best with these roads, old chap.
Sleep well.”
{much time passes}
“Here we are,” said the doctor.
The two men carefully removed the bound prisoner from the car and walked him to the arms of two strapping officers waiting at the entrance. Von Bork leered at Holmes and muttered under his breath.
“I beg your pardon?” Holmes asked, cupping his hand around an ear.
“The Benz is a far superior motorcar to this toy,” the German said through clenched teeth.
Holmes grinned and gave a half-hearted salute. He then turned to Watson and extended his hand.
“Well, thank you for the ride, old man. Do keep in touch from time to time, and my best to Mrs. Watson.”
“It was my pleasure, Holmes. Thank you for including me in tonight’s activities. Good for my old bones. We’ll talk again one day.”
“Perhaps. Tomorrow I’ll be heading home after cashing this most handsome cheque.”
“Where are you doing so?”
“Cox & Company.”
“Ah, yes. An excellent institution. I have an account there myself. Goodnight, Holmes.”
“Goodnight, old friend.”
“The Dangling Prussian!” Watson said, laughing heartily, as he drove away.
I will happily point out that I had this piece published in The Newspapers - An Irregular Journal of Sherlockiana which is the periodical put out by The Sherlockians of Baltimore. It is truly one of the best things to read in our hobby, and I wholeheartedly suggest you get on their mailing list. You can find information about the group here.
I would also like to say that when I use the term Sherlockian it is meant to represent all Holmes devotees - Sherlockians, Watsonians, Doyleans, Johnlock-ers, anyone.
So, there you go. This is one of those little things that's bugged me since the first time I read it. I had to write it just to satisfy my own need, but I think it's pretty good. (It also makes perfect sense to me.) I hope you don't think it unjust to not talk about chronology, but I wanted to (once again) pay homage to the unquestioned LAST case for Our Heroes. Next time we'll tackle chronology once more, and the next time, and the next time, and so on.
It's so good of you to make it all the way down here. I'll see you next month. Please take care of yourself, and as always...thanks for reading.
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