The Case of The Missing Mare

Act I — The Burden

The doctor adjusted his spectacles, looking down at the stubborn patient. "Mr. Holmes" Said the doctor inhaling deeply. "You must take this condition seriously." And turning to Mrs. Hudson he added. "You may take this instructions to the chemist—"

Holmes extended his right hand—waving it quickly—in the direction of the hand written prescription already in Mrs. Hudson's hand while coughing violently, covering his mouth with white linen.

"Let me see the prescr...  please." Said he with difficulty. 

Holmes recoiled. "You wish to dose me with salts? No!"

The doctor sighed, a heavy, defeated sound.

"It is your right not to take them young fellow, but that is the remedies we have today! We could try a light phlebotomy regime—"

"No!" Interrupted Holmes vigorously while catching his breath after a coughing fit.

He looked at the patient, then glanced around the chamber, his eyes landing on the large, wide window.

"Young man, I am afraid today's traditional medicine cannot treat you if you defy its core tenets. If you do want to survive this affliction..." He pointed toward the glass. "Fresh air." And turning to Mrs. Hudson he added—"Keep this chamber well ventilated."

Mrs. Hudson nodded and looking at Holmes she asked—"Any diet requirements?"

"Nothing heavy, mostly fluids; and..." He paused while writing on a piece of paper he had torn from a notebook—"I will leave this note for Dr. Watson with my observations."

The doctor, grabbed his bag and walked to the door of the apartment. Back in the chamber, Sherlock Holmes coughed violently. The doctor opened the door and stopped, and turning to Mrs. Hudson he said in a grave tone. "He needs rest, Mrs. Hudson... he is all yours."

"Mrs. Hudson!" Called Holmes from his chamber with raspy voice while seating on the edge of his bed with the intention of getting up.

"You heard the Doctor, Mr. Holmes!"

"Mrs. Hudson, you must help me get up... " Said Holmes with red cheeks after a coughing fit —"The case I am working on cannot wait an hour. It will be a tragedy!"

"Did you hear the Doctor, Mr. Holmes?" Said Mrs. Hudson pushing him gently into a laydown position.

"I know what pneumonia can do to a man, Mrs. Hudson... all I need is an hour... " And swallowing with difficulty he added, "The case is solved but she will be murdered if not rescued immediately... oh! Please open the window."

Mrs. Hudson felt a familiar feeling, she experienced it before in India while tending to wounded soldiers. Her heart ache again with anguish. "Lay back, Mr. Holmes... I'll open the window. "Oh, Doctor Watson, when will you be back! He needs you!" was the thought crossing her mind as she crossed the room.

"Mr. Holmes, who is she?"

"Maggie..."

"What is happening to Maggie?"

"She was abducted... " Said Holmes as a new barrage of coughing took hold of him. Then, he took a deep breath and continued with effort — "...for a ransom..." 

"Poor woman..."

"She is a horse... a very valuable mare."

"Can the owner fulfil the criminal's demands?"

"They paid once but the criminals demand more. I am afraid the extortion will continue for some time, while market goers purchase her flesh."

"Can you delegate on Lestrade?"

"Lestrade has a role to play to-night... but I could not foresee my incapacity... They will kill her."

"I am so sorry for that poor animal."

"Mrs. Hudson... I need you as an emissary... " Said he, and curving his back while coughing he gestured Mrs. Hudson for the piece of paper the doctor had written his prescription on. He grabbed the piece of paper, to scribble a on the back of the note a few words, folded the paper and handled it to Mrs. Hudson.

"I must apologize for the imposition..." Said Holmes as he is interrupted by his coughing. "I am placing Maggie's life in your hands."

"Mr. Holmes—"

"A helpless creature will be butchered with cruelty in one hour..." Said Holmes with frowned eyes, looking into Mrs. Hudson's gaze.

Mrs. Hudson tighten her lips, closed her eyes for a moment, and looked at Sherlock Holmes.

"Very well, Mr. Holmes... where should I take this note?"

"Number 3... Number 3 Pinchin Lane, Lambeth—"

"That is Sergeant Sherman's shop!"

"You know the man... the dog trainer?"

"Yes, he served in my husband's regiment—"

"You do not have minute to lose... hail a cab and fly!" Interrupted Holmes. "He... knows what to do... do not wait for a response..."

"I depart at once."

"I am in debt to your Mrs. Hudson..." Said Holmes as Mrs. Hudson exited his chamber. She could hear him cough violently.

"...Do not wait for a response, and return at once!" She heard Holmes say as she exited 221B Baker Street.

Act II - The Emissary

It did not take long for Mrs. Hudson to hail a passing hansom cab breaking through the night fog.

"Cabby, half a crown if you fly in less than twenty-minutes to No. 3, Pinchin Lane, Lambeth."

"Yes, madam." Said the cab driver as the single horse cab sprang into action. 

A sense of anguish invaded Mrs. Hudson as the cab moved through the night fog. She rather not think, but the uncertainty of her agency made her wonder what would happen had had refused. The entire incident made he feel the same physiological emotions she felt back in India.

"Martha!"

"Reginald... what is this all commotion?"

"The fort is under immediate evacuation orders!"

"You are giving me no time to prepare, Reginald!"

"Leave everything where it stands... those are just things! No time to lose!"

Her memories flashed in front of her eyes at thunderous speed. But this time it felt different.

"No. 3, Pinchin Lane, Lambeth, madam" Announced the cab driver after arriving at the destination. Mrs. Hudson looked at Col Hudson's pocket watch—"On the dot!"

"Wait for me good man... " Said Mrs. Hudson as she stepped out of the cab into the fog.

"Ay!"

Up ahead, the silhouette of Sergeant Sherman's shop, dimly lit, started to take shape in the London night.

"Holmes, right on time..." Sergeant Sherman's voice could be heard behind a small acetylene lamp. Then he exclaimed—"Mrs. Hudson! What are you doing here? I was expecting—"

"He is unable to come." Interjected Mrs. Hudson—"He sends this message." Said Mrs. Hudson handing the note to Sherman. 

Sherman brings the note closer to his lamp.  "I do not understand..." He looked up meeting Mrs. Hudson's gaze.

"Mercury salts! What in the devils—"

"On the other side, man!" Mrs. Hudson snapped gesturing impatiently with her hand.

"Oh, this changes things a bit!"

"What must you do?" Asked Mrs. Hudson.

"I need to get Donner, close the shop, and head down to the docks." Sherman said as they walked inside the shop.

"Donner! Come here boy!" Said Sergeant Sherman, and young German-hound. "You better go home how Mrs. Hudson."

"Where in the docks?"

"It is nearby... 33 Fore Street... it is a warehouse..."

"Leave at once Sergeant Sherman, I'll stay behind and close your shop."

"That is not necess... thank you, Mrs. Hudson!" Said Sherman and left with urgency with Donner on a leash. 

Act III - The Rescue

At the docks Sergeant Sherman arrived in the cover of the fog to meet with Detective Lestrade.

"You arrive on time." Said Lestrade in a low voice. "Where is Holmes?"

"Incapacitated... it is just us."

"You brought a dog! Is he going to give us away?"

"No, he is a trained catcher... Holmes' idea..." Whispered Sergeant Sherman. Donner had his eyes fixed on the warehouse—"He is ready." Added the Sergeant while looking at Donner eyes, ready to pounce. 

"A police dog! I have never seen such a thing!" Detective Lestrade protested.  "They are not getting away this time... we assault... in exactly..." And looking at his pocket watch—"Three minutes. Did you bring your side arm?"

"Ay."

"We wait... eyes peeled!"

Inspector Lestrade kept his eyes on his watch. "...and, Now!"

Almost immediately, a barrage of shots, unmistakingly, was heard on the opposite shore of the river.

"Wait!" Said Sergeant Sherman. As he spoke, a window of the warehouse opened revealing the shadow of a man illuminated by a dim light.

"Get him!" Commanded Sergeant Sherman, and Donner sprang at maximum speed towards the window. Almost immediately the man screamed in horror at the sight of a growling beast charging him. Donner jumped inside the warehouse followed by a moment of silence.

"Wait!" Insisted Sergeant Sherman raising his left arm to signal patience to Inspector Lestrade, anxiously to spring into action, holding his whistle in his mouth with his right hand.

A commotion came from within the warehouse. Men were shouting in pain, while others shouted in horror. The door opened abruptly, ramming violently the both sides of the warehouse outer wall, and three men rushed outside.

Inspector Lestrade blew his whistle, as hard as his lungs could.

"Arrest these men!" Shouted Lestrade as four constables grabbed onto the escaping men, starting a violent struggle. After a few moments, constables managed to subdue the escaping men.

"Smith! I know you!" Said Lestrade as he stood in front of a man. "I have been on your heels for a while!"

"Atkins!" Shouted Smith angrily—"Atkins! Aint you gonna do something? This was your idea little bastard!"

For a moment all men froze as inspector Lestrade and constables holding onto the remaining prisoners looked into constable Atkin's direction.

"Atkins?" Said inspector Lestrade in astonishment.

Constable Atkins reacted by pulling his revolver. 

At that moment one of the constables threw himself in Atkins' direction, managing to grab his armed hand in an attempt to disarm him. s the two men struggle for the revolver, Atkins pulled the trigger.

BANG!

In the middle of the commotion, Smith broke loose from the grip of his arresting constable, pulling a blade from his jacket, aiming for Inspector Lestrade neck.

BANG!

A shot erupted from the darkness of the street, followed by a cry of pain from Smith dropping the blade.

"That shot came from the east of the warehouse!" Said one of the constables.

"Arrest that man!" Ordered Inspector Lestrade pointing towards the shooter. Two armed constables rushed in that direction while other constables immobilized the injured attacking man. 

"My goodness!" Shouted Sergeant Sherman. "You were lucky inspector! They almost got you twice!"

"Cuff him!" Ordered Lestrade looking at Atkins. "You could hang for this!"

Atkins looked at him with defiance and said nothing. 

"I hope you rot in hell, Atkins!" Shouted Smith holding his bleeding hand.

"Take them away!" Ordered Lestrade.

Meanwhile, Donner had exited the warehouse and was standing in the middle of the street looking confused, looking east and west of the warehouse.

"Here boy, what's the matter with you?" Said Sergeant Sherman.

"The mare!" Exclaimed inspector Lestrade pointing towards the warehouse. "On me!" said Lestrade as he lead a group of constables into the warehouse, gun drawn.

"Is she dead?" Asked Lestrade.

"Found her!" A constable shouted from the back of the warehouse. "She is unsettled but she is fine!"

"Search the premises... every corner! I want no surprises!" Ordered Lestrade. "Take inventory of everything you see... Sergeant Johnson—I want everything cataloged!"

"Yes, Sir!"

"We found nothing, Sir." Said the constables in search of the shooter returning to the warehouse."

"How can a single man vanish! Back you go, and keep looking!"

"It must've been their lookout sir..." said Sergeant Johnson. "You were lucky he missed."

Act IV - The Applause

"Good morning, Mrs. Hudson! Marvelous news!"

"Good morning, Inspector Lestrade..." And looking in Sergeant Sherman's direction, she added, "You brought company. Good morning, Mr. Sherman."

"Ma'am."

"Is Mr. Holmes available?" asked Lestrade.

"He is up now, but still convalescent. Do not get him too excited, or he will have a coughing fit... he needs rest!"

"Would you be so kind to bring us—"

"Tea is ready!" interrupted Mrs. Hudson. "I will bring some biscuits fresh out of the oven!"

"You are my angel, Mrs. Hudson!" replied Inspector Lestrade with a wide bright smile.

"Pleasure!"

"Mr. Holmes! It was a complete success! Your distraction on the opposite shore worked marvels! The mare was rescued unharmed, and the culprits apprehended... or worse... on the way I picked up Sergeant Sherman... I hope you do not mind, his service was most valuable."

"Not at all..." said Holmes as he coughed.

"How are you feeling, Holmes? I must say we managed last night without you very well!" said Lestrade in a gloating mood.

"Gentlemen, excuse me. Here is tea, cream, sugar and fresh biscuits for the three of you," said Mrs. Hudson when she entered Holmes' chamber with a tray.

"Hear, hear!" Lestrade responded with enthusiasm.

"I read about last night's events in the Illustrated Police News, and also in The Daily Telegraph," said Sherlock Holmes as Mrs. Hudson placed a bed tray in front of him and set a cup of tea upon it with a touch of cream and sugar.

"Are you up to a biscuit, Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes, please, Mrs. Hudson, you are very kind."

"Enjoy your tea," said Mrs. Hudson as she left the chamber. Silence followed.

"You are very lucky, Mr. Holmes. With that care, you will mend in no time at all."

"You are correct, Inspector Lestrade, but among us, you are the luckiest of them all." And picking up The Daily Telegraph he added. "Sergeant Sherman... would you be so kind to read the encircled sections of The Daily?" Said Holmes in between coughs.

"Scotland Yard Disarticulates Dangerous Gang... Great excitement is manifested to-day by the rescue in good health of Maggie, a valuable mare owned by Lord Harringby of Berkshire... and it goes on with the sub-header... Inspector Lestrade Heroically Escapes Certain Death, and... further on it reads... two attempts on Inspector Lestrade's life failed. The first one foiled by the valiant intervention of Sergeant Johnson endeavors, followed by a short range shot fired by an unknown accomplice who missed by one eight of an inch. At the time of printing this story Scotland Yard continues to investigate the matter, and alerts all subjects to remain vigilant while this dangerous, and ruthless criminal continues to evade capture."  

The chamber fell into deep silence, to allow the daily melodies of Baker Street to pour through the open window.

"It was close for you Lestrade..." Said Sherlock Holmes.

"I saw it with me own eyes, Mr. Holmes," added Sergeant Sherman.

"Well... I might get a commendation... "

"There is more... a member of the constabulary has been compromised, Inspector, and turned to treacherous ends.... this is a delicate matter, and I do not have a definite proof."

"You mean constable Atkins? He was arrested last night!"

"Alas!" Exclaimed Holmes with enthusiasm.

"How could you know?" Asked Sergeant Sherman.

"It proves my hypothesis!"  Holmes face light with joy. "This fact was omitted from the press... I presume you did not decide that, but your superiors to avoid embarrassment."

Inspector Lestrade looked at Sherlock Holmes in silence, lower his head to gaze at the floor and let a deep sigh out.

"You did a marvelous job Lestrade, and you are here to tell the story." Said Holmes from his bed.

Lestrade raised his head to meet Holmes eyes and smiled gently.

"Thank you Holmes... I must go now." And looking in Sergeant Sherman's direction he added—"I can give you a lift to your shop... if you are done here that is..."

"The Sergeant will stay behind... we have other matters to discuss, thank you for bringing him my way."

"Gentlemen." Said inspector Lestrade putting on his hat and leaving the chamber.

"About last night..." said Sherlock Holmes looking into Sherman's eyes.

Act V - The Deduction

The next morning, Sherlock Holmes stood in front of the wide-open window of his apartment. The fresh air soothed his lungs. His face remained unchanged, bathed by the early sun's rays, forcing him to squint his eyes as his gaze remained fixed in the distance. He stood there without moving a muscle. Moments later, his eyes fixed on a messenger boy standing on the opposite side of the street, looking in both directions, waiting for delivery carriages and cabs to pass before crossing the cobblestones. As the boy crossed the street in the direction of 221B Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes turned on his heels, took his pipe out of his coat, placed it in his mouth, and held it there, stroking it gently with his thumb, as his attention now shifted to the door of his apartment.

"You may come in, Mrs. Hudson," said Holmes, answering the soft knock on the door so typical of the landlady.

"Mr. Holmes, a telegram... but you are not smoking in your condition, are you?"

"No, Mrs. Hudson, it is merely a habit of mine... I use it as a point of focus." Holmes paused, his gaze resting upon her. As the seconds stretched, Mrs. Hudson extended her hand, holding the envelope.

"Your telegram, Mr. Holmes."

"You may place it on the parlour table," said Holmes, gesturing toward the furniture with his pipe. "And, may I borrow a moment of your time, please?"

"Certainly" Said she, placing the telegram on the table.

"Seat down please, make yourself comfortable... that is Dr. Watson's favorite furniture! I had to agree with him not to touch it as a pre-condition for sharing this lodgings with him!"

They both laughed.

Holmes moved to a twin armed chair, and sat across from Mrs. Hudson. He cross his legs and rested one of his arms on the comfortable armrest while looking at her.

"I cannot thank you enough for putting you in the awkward position, of forcibly accepting to deliver a message to Sergeant Sherman in such critical moment."

'You said it yourself, Mr. Holmes... it had to be done."

"Indeed! That message, Mrs. Hudson, helped save the mare. However..."

Mrs. Hudson frowned immediately, and crossed her fingers, looking at Sherlock Holmes with unquestionable intensity. Holmes noticed, and pretends not to look at her hands, limiting himself to look at her eyes.

"The morning after the rescue, I saw you reading the papers before you delivered them into my chamber—"

"You can't blame my anxiety," interrupted Mrs. Hudson.

"Hardly!" Exclaimed Holmes. "Did you had an opportunity to read the note I sent Sergeant Sherman?"

"No." Replied Mrs. Hudson sliding in her chair trying to find a comfortable position. Holmes noticed without reacting.

"Mrs. Hudson... there are details that are not clear yet in my mind."

"I do not blame you. The idea that an armed and dangerous accomplice remains at large, as the press suggests, is concerning."

"After you delivered the note to Sergeant Sherman, you inquire about the location of the warehouse, where supposedly, the mare was kept sequestered—"

"Mere curiosity, Mr. Holmes, after all I had delivered your instructions to the good Sergeant."

"Then you volunteered to close the shop."

Mrs. Hudson gave a slow nod, her gaze dropping to the carpet beneath the parlour table. After a moment, she lifted her head and met Holmes’s eyes.

"Time was at the essence. My intention was to assist Mr. Sherman to get to the business of the night."

"Thank you for clarifying this fact. It is important."

"I don't quite follow you reasoning Mr. Holmes. What does the fact that I helped close the shop has to do with the entire incident?" Said Mrs. Hudson, calmly, but with a slight edge of aggravation.

"Everything!" Exclaimed Sherlock Holmes. "Forgive me Mrs. Hudson, you have been extremely patient through this line of inquiry." Sherlock Holmes sat up straight in his armchair, placing both feet in front of him.

"What was not published in the press is what happened before Inspector Lestrade was attacked by Smith. Sergeant Sherman mentioned that Donner exited the warehouse and behaved strangely. Donner is a German-hound, Mrs. Hudson. He was not confused. He detected something familiar coming from two different directions... "

Mrs. Hudson took a deep breath and exhale taking more time than the moment deserved. As she was opening her mouth to speak, Mr. Holmes raised his right hand and interrupted her.

"Please, Mrs. Hudson. Indulge m. Read the telegram... aloud. It is the final piece of the puzzle."

Mrs. Hudson regained her composure, opened the envelop containing the message and read it.

"On the night of your inquiry, a lady passenger was picked up in the vicinity of 221B Baker Street. The fare ended at Number 3 Pinchin Lane, Lambeth. The cab was dismissed, and no passenger was returned to 221B Baker Street."

Mrs. Hudson placed the telegram on her lap, and remained silent for a moment. Sherlock Holmes reclined in his chair, and raised his right hand to hold his chin while looking at Mrs. Hudson.

"I was the mystery shooter."

"I know, Mrs. Hudson."

"How?"

"Before you closed the shop to follow in Sergeant Sherman's steps, you took something with you—"

"I grabbed a jacket, it was freezing..."

"Donner betrayed you."

"What if I had missed Mr. Holmes... " Said Mrs. Hudson turning emotional. "I would have killed Lestrade."

"But you didn't." Said Holmes looking at her. After a moment of silence he added. "You did not shoot the hand with the blade, you shot at where the hand was going to be... that is not marksmanship, that is soldiery, Mrs. Hudson. Inspector Lestrade would have been killed by the blade."

Mrs. Hudson closed her eyes and set her emotions free, and cried. She heard Reginald's words replay in her mind.

"There will be a moment when you will need to pull the trigger. My dear, I cannot tell you when that is; you will know when; then pull it."

"You are a living evidence that Colonel Hudson was a remarkable officer... I deeply apologize again for placing you in that dark street."

"I did it on my own will."

"But I made you feel that way. And to honor your remarkable contribution to the solution of this case, here is half of my fee for this case." Said Holmes placing an envelop on the tea table.

"No! I would like no recognition... no financial gain from this incident. I did what I thought was right. You did not push me at all!" Protested gently Mrs. Hudson.

"Then that settles it. I have already sent my share anonymously to the Imperial Veterans Association, and since you decline yours, Mrs. Hudson, that too shall find its way there... by the hand of someone about to cross that threshold."

Act VI - The Restoration

As Sherlock Holmes finished his sentence, the door to the apartment flushed opened.

"Holmes! I read the mare's case in the train! I am dying to learn the details!" Said Dr. Watson as he entered, travel bags in hands.

"It is all in The Daily my dear Watson... it is all in The Daily!" And looking at Mrs. Hudson, with a satisfied smile, he added — "How about that occasional tea, settled in our contract, Mrs. Hudson?"

Mrs. Hudson sprang up with a smile from her chair. 

"Coming right up! Welcome home, Doctor!"

Postscript 

Writing these two stories, "Welcome Home", and "The Case of The Missing Mare", has provided me with an immense sense of satisfaction.

When I was a child, I read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's stories translated into Spanish, back in my home country, Cuba. I read those stories again and again, and would fall asleep dreaming of what it would be like to be one of those characters.

When I left the island behind, I read the same stories in English. Those written words changed the way I spoke—I was learning English from those characters. I sounded like a mixture of Victorian English and English as a second language.

People could not figure out where that accent came from.

Now, through my own stories, I try to reinsert myself into theirs. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle feels familiar to me—like an old friend whom I have not seen in a very long time, yet who has been waiting here all along.