Chapter 1

I have been at pains in my earlier accounts of the exploits of my erstwhile friend and companion, Mr Sherlock Holmes, to describe him as the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, to emphasise the coolness and analytical abilities of his intellect above all other faculties. In this regard I have been remiss for Holmes was a man capable of great passion. In my defence I will only say that this was a position insisted on by Holmes himself as a condition of allowing me to document his adventures. He was adamant that no hint of what he firmly believed could possibly be construed as a weakness should ever become public knowledge, his argument being that his reputation for invincibility was one of the main weapons in his arsenal. It is certainly true that, in more than a few of his cases, the fact that the criminal knew that the infallible Mr Sherlock Holmes had taken an interest, contributed to their successful conclusion.

I notice, upon re-reading my narratives, that I have not always been as faithful to my vow as I had intended for, as anyone who has read my reports carefully will doubtless have divined, I have on occasions given more of a hint to Holmes' true nature than I had intended. On more than one occasion I find I have more than alluded to the excitement he felt when pursuing a particularly awkward puzzle and the enthusiastic zeal with which he went about uncovering a mystery once his curiosity had been piqued.

I am also aware that I have omitted any mention of female companionship and have portrayed Holmes as more or less celibate. While it is certainly true that he regarded the female sex in the general case as weak and ineffectual, prone to allowing their propensity for the softer passions overcome their innate good sense, he was not above making use of this fact when the occasion suited him. Of course he could never form a permanent attachment, with the possible exception of Irene Adler whom he encountered in the Scandal in Bohemia, in part because his trained reasoning would tear the veils from all the little deceipts and devices that are so necessary in a successful marriage and in part because he feared that any emotional dependence would cloud his highly trained faculties and introduce doubt and uncertainty where conviction and confidence were paramount. For the one thing I can say for certain about Sherlock Holmes is that he never let his passions rule his intellect.

So it was that we were seated in our lodgings one afternoon in late spring and glad of the fire that had been laid, for the day had been unseasonably cool, when we heard the ringing of the front door bell followed, after a short interval, by a knock on the door.

"There is a young woman to see you," the landlady announced. "She is most insistent." The disapproving sniff at the end of the sentence spoke volumes.

"Send her in, then. Send her in." Holmes waved a languid arm from the armchair in which he was slouched.

The person in question must have overheard Holmes' invitation for, no sooner had the landlady turned back to the door, than she was over the threshold.

"Oh, Mr 'olmes, you've got to 'elp me," she cried, rushing into the room then stopping suddenly, wringing her hands and looking wildly about her as if had suddenly become aware of her surroundings.

"Calm yourself," said Holmes, sitting up abruptly. "Doctor, if you would be so goodÖ" he indicated I should yield my seat by the fire, which I did with an ill grace for it was clear that the visitor was a common working girl, possibly a servant.

The girl, for she could be no more than fifteen or sixteen years old, perched nervously on the edge of the vacated chair, all the fire having left her, while I pulled a dining chair round for myself somewhat miffed at my rude eviction.

Holmes leant forward, smiling gently. "Now tell us why you so urgently require the services of Sherlock Holmes."

The girl clasped her hands together nervously. "It's the master, sir. 'E 'asn't been 'imself recently and I'm ever so worried about 'im but I didn't know what to do or 'oo to turn to then I remembered reading about you in the newspapers so 'ere I am," she said in a great rush.

Holmes leaned forward and said, with that kindly courtesy that came so naturally to him, "Perhaps I can best help if you were to begin at the beginning and tell us your name and the nature of your relationship with the gentleman about whom you are so concerned."

This brought the girl up short. She took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. "I do beg your pardon, sir. I am so distraught that I'm not thinking straight. My name is Sarah Carter and I am the housemaid in the establishment of Mr Laurence Woolmer of Bromley. I've been in Mr Woolmer's employ for a year. Lately, there's been a change in him and I'm worried that something bad is happening."

Holmes leaned back and steepled his fingers. "Something bad you say. Is he ill?"

The girl flushed slightly. "Not as such, sir. At least not as you might call out a doctor for. But he isn't himself, if you know what I mean."

"Not at present," Holmes said, smiling gently, "I will need to know more about your relationship with your employer if I am to help you. You may speak freely before my companion, Dr Watson, and I."

She coloured, rather prettily I thought, then continued in a more subdued voice, "I applied for the position at Mr Woolmer's just over a year ago. Mr Woomer is an older gentleman and he intimated that I was to be more than just a housemaid. That he required, er, companionship, him being a widower and all." Here she stopped, too embarrassed to continue.

"I understand," Holmes said gravely. "Continue, please."

"He seemed a nice enough gentleman and the wages was good and I needed the job, what with my mother so poorly and all, so I agreed."

"Miss Carter, if I am to assist you, you must be more forthcoming."

"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir. It's justÖ it's not the sort of thing one discusses with gentlemen."

"I can assure you that the doctor and I have seen and heard many worse things than you will relate. Did Mr Woolmer mistreat you?"

"Oh, no, sir." She was most indignant.

"He did not beat you, or starve you or imprison you or force you to do anything against your will?"

"No, sir. Never. Mr Woolmer has always been a perfect gentleman."

"Then you may rest assured that whatever you may say will not cause offence. I cannot help you unless you are entirely frank. Pray describe your relationship with your employer and leave nothing out."

She took a deep breath to calm her agitation and I could not help but notice that her bosom filled her cheap white blouse quite handsomely.

"Yes, sir. Well, then, as I said I am a housemaid. My normal duties finish after dinner at nine o'clock when I clear the table and set it for breakfast. At eleven o'clock, I would make my way to Mr Woolmer's room and we would go to bed. I was very scared at first, sir, Mr Woolmer being my first but he was always such a gentleman, so gentle and kind, and he always made sure I enjoyed it as much as he did." She looked coyly up at Holmes from lowered eyes. "After a while, sir, I confess I came to quite look forward to my visits. We continued like this, sir, until about a month ago, when it all stopped."

"Stopped?"

"Yes, sir. The visits. They stopped."

"You say Mr Woolmer is an older gentleman. Could it not be simply nature taking its toll?"

"Oh no, sir. Mr Woolmer was a very vigorous gentleman. Very fit, sir, especially considering his age."

"Does he have any medical conditions?"

"Well, he does take something for his stomach, sir, every night, regular as clockwork. But, other than that, no."

"You went to him at eleven o'clock every night?"

"Yes, sir. Every night except Saturdays."

"And you got undressed and into bed?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes we would play games."

"What sort of games?"

"That's what Mr Woolmer called them. He would make me dress up in a costume. He had one like these French can-can dancers, all frills and flounces, and one like a girl from a Moorish hayreem and one like a school girl with a white pinafore and everythingÖ"

"Was that all?"

"Sometimes he would want me to pretend I had been naughty and he would give me a row then we'd kiss and make up and sometimes he would pretend to have been naughty and I would have to have to give him a row and then forgive him with a kiss. That was hard, sir, as he was the master and I am only the housemaid but he said that, once I'd closed the door, I was no longer a housemaid but his companion and we was to behave like equals." She frowned prettily. "But you can't really do that, sir, can you? You can only try to pretend for a little bit."

"Quite," Holmes said, somewhat taken aback by this profound observation from one so young. "And how long did you stay?"

"Sometimes and hour, sir, sometimes two but never more than that."

Holmes leaned forward. "I must ask you something very personal. Please be so good as to answer truthfully." Miss Carter nodded nervously. "You know that there are three orifices that can be used for acts of pleasure. Were they all utilised?"

Having served in Afghanistan, I was aware of some of the more obscene acts practiced by the heathens in those parts and I flinched in sympathy that such a young girl should be subjected to such a question. Indeed I fully anticipated that she would have no understanding of the question and regard Holmes as if he had gone mad. To my utter astonishment, she looked my companion square in the eye and, although she was the colour of a Guardsman's uniform, simply replied, "Yes, sir."

Holmes leaned back. "And the visits stopped about a month ago?"

"Yes, sir."

"Abruptly? You turned up at the appointed hour and he said, 'Go away, ' or words to that effect?"

"It wasn't quite as sudden as that, sir. He had been complaining of not feeling himself for several days and he had beenÖ less attentive than usual. Then, one night, he said, 'I really don't feel up to it tonight, Sarah. Forgive me.'. And that was the end of it. Truth to tell, sir, he didn't look right at all. He looked very pale and haggard and he was sweating as if he had some sort of fever. I tried to persuade him to go to the doctor but he refused, saying he'd be fine in a day or so. But he didn't get any better. I spoke to Mrs Brumby, the cook, but she said I was imagining things and I wasn't to worry. But I did worry and I do worry. That's why I'm 'ere. Because I'm sure something terrible is 'appening to Mr Woolmer." In her agitation, her voice had risen and she was twisting her fingers one around the other in her lap.

"Pray do not agitate yourself, Miss Carter. Your case intrigues me. I shall glance into it and I have no doubt that we shall reach some definite result. I have a few more questions I need to ask. The household consists of Mr Woolmer, yourself and a cook. No-one else?"

"Only Mr. Collimire. He looks after the garden and does maintenance and such like. But he lives above the stables and not in the house, proper."

"And you sleep where?"

"I share with Mrs Brumby."

Holmes raised an eyebrow. "What is her opinion of your liaison with her employer?"

"She was not best pleased at the start, sir, but she seemed to come round after a while. I try my best to be helpful and, while I can't claim we are friends, she is civil towards me at least."

"And Mr Collimire?"

"Oh, he doesn't know, sir. Leastways I haven't told him and Mrs Brumby had no reason to tell him either."

"Mr Woolmer is a man of regular habits?"

"Yes, sir. You could set your clock by him you could. Monday to Friday he rises at seven and comes down to breakfast at eight. He leaves the house at eight thirty five to walk to the railway station and comes back at ten minutes to seven. Dinner is at seven thirty. I clear the table at nine once he has retired to his study. He goes up to bed at a quarter to eleven."