Sherlock Holmes: Before Baker Street by David Marcum (warren buffett book recommendations TXT) 📕

problem at hand, and then pocket my fee. By the time of this tale, the force had become more and more dependent upon me, and they kept bringing me more and more ridiculous cases. I was becoming angry at the laziness of the Yarders, and my ire was making me arrogant.”

“You don’t say,” I commented, thinking that Holmes’s arrogance still had not left him.

“Yes,” Holmes continued, “and Lestrade was the worst of the lot. He had brought me a case that appeared so obvious that even a nine-year-old schoolboy could have figured it out.

“The case involved an apparent kidnapping of the Lady Marianne, daughter of Lord Mapleton. The police had arrested the coachman who had driven his ladyship to the city for an afternoon of shopping and returned with an empty carriage. He claimed that his mistress had entered an apothecary’s shop to purchase supplies to restock her toilet chest, and never returned. The driver insisted that he waited for over an hour for his ladyship, and when she didn’t come back, he entered the shop to make sure she was still all right.”

“Nothing unusual about a woman taking her time shopping,” I chuckled.

“The driver had the same thought as you,” Holmes responded with an amused expression on his face. “However, this was an apothecary and not a clothing shop. The coachman thought it seemed a bit unusual to take that long for toilet supplies, so he entered the shop and asked about the Lady. The apothecary told him that Lady Marianne had purchased supplies and, he believed, had left through the rear exit of the store. The coachman returned to his carriage and waited an additional two hours before returning home, hoping that his ladyship had returned to her residence through other means of transport.

“Upon his return to the estate, the driver learned that a ransom note had been discovered in the entryway. Police had already been summoned, and they arrested the driver soon after his arrival.”

“I say,” I interjected, “did they interview the apothecary to see if he corroborated the driver’s story? Seems the simplest thing to do.”

“It was,” Holmes agreed, “And they did. The apothecary gave his statement to the police and it matched the coachman’s story.”

“However . . . .” I said, almost in the form of a question, for I knew there was a catch to Holmes’s statement.

“However, instead of releasing the coachman and widening their search, what did the nincompoops do? Why, they went and arrested the apothecary as an accomplice!”

I shook my head, and we both took a moment to curse the incompetence of the force at the time.

“So there was Lestrade, in my room in Montague Street, sitting upon a cushioned parlor chair, enjoying a smoke, and telling me this horrific story as if he and the Yard had acted responsibly. After Lestrade concluded his summary of events, he handed me the envelope containing the ransom note.

“‘We believe, Mr. Holmes,’ he started, ‘that Mr. Able, the coachman, put the note in the entryway before he left. He knew, based on the schedule of the servants, that no one would find the note til he had absconded with the heiress.’

“I took the envelope, sniffed it over, then carefully removed the letter from inside. It read that the heiress had been taken and the cost to have her returned was £100,000. They were to tell no one or the lady would be killed in some gruesome fashion. Further instructions would be forthcoming.

“‘Who contacted you?’ I asked after finishing the letter.

“‘The Lord himself, Mr. Holmes. Clever man saw that the best way to have his daughter returned was to disobey the order and contact the police.’

“‘And did you get a handwriting sample from the coachman and the apothecary?’ I asked.

“The ferret-faced inspector grinned with pride. ‘That we did, Mr. Holmes, that we did. Neither was a perfect match, though Mr. Able’s was close. I think he was trying to disguise his handwriting.’

“‘Do you have the note and the sample of Able’s penmanship with you?’

“‘I do.’ He handed them to me, and what I saw was quite indicative.

“‘Also,’ Lestrade added, ‘since the arrest of the two men, there has been no follow-up note with further instructions.’

“I must have sneered at the inspector or made an unpleasant face, for he stammered after, ‘Th-that’s why I contacted you, Mr. Holmes. Both the coachman and the apothecary cling to their stories of innocence, and we have no knowledge thus far of the whereabouts of the Lady Marianne. I felt you might be able to assist us in this matter.’

“‘Were any other members of the house away when the Lady Marianne was abducted?’

“‘Why, yes,’ Lestrade continued. He was almost jolly in his response, seeing that I was now following what he perceived was his own line of reasoning. ‘Three other members of the house were absent. We gave them a thorough interview, but all had alibis and witnesses to corroborate their whereabouts during the time the crime must have taken place.’

“I nodded but asked to know their identities.

“‘There was Mrs. Hodges, the cook, who was visiting the baker, getting some rolls for the evening meal. Then there was Mr. Smythe, the footman, and Mr. Bartlett, the valet, who were enjoying some leisure time. They like to take afternoon walks together when they can and were spotted by many witnesses throughout the town.’

“‘Who is the current coachman?’ I inquired.

“‘Mr. Smythe is filling the role until a more suitable candidate is hired.’

“‘And,’ I pressed. ‘Has anyone recently been dismissed from staff or denied employment?’

“‘Ho ho,’ Lestrade tittered jovially. ‘I see where you are going with this, Mr. Holmes. There was one, a Mr. Thorpe, a butler who was dismissed after being drunk and making a scene at a dinner party.’

“‘Ah, I see,’ I told Lestrade. ‘And you know his whereabouts during