Sherlock Holmes Enigmas

© Vadim Deruzhinsky, 2020

ISBN 978-5-0051-0033-7

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

SHERLOCK HOLMES ENIGMAS

Vadim Deruzhinsky

(based on Dr. Watson writings)

Translation: Michael Goldencov

This is an unusual book about Sherlock Holmes. It consists of 24 unique stories of Holmes’ investigation. The reader is available to test oneself in deduction: each story has two parts – the first part has facts, the second one has an answer. Please do not be in a hurry to read the answer, but try to rack your brain, as Sherlock used to say, to figure it out by your own…

Illustrations by Sidney Edward Paget, Arthur Conan Doyle’s friend. On the cover: Illustration of Sherlock Holmes for “The Valley of Fear”. From The Strand Magazine, September, 1914.

Sherlock Holmes

“Looking through my records I often find cases in which Holmes brilliantly guessed different enigmas, which I could never do. Using his own deduction method Holmes easily could find out an answer that always at the beginning made me think he was kidding, joking at me. But as soon as he explained it to me, I felt confusion cause had not found out it by myself, had not seen the evident things!

Now I recommend some such cases of Holmes’ brilliant deduction. I invite readers to test their own brains and deduction, to guess some mystery enigmas as Holmes could do.”

Dr. J. Watson

1. Sherlock Holmes’ Moon

“Here is a dead man,” said inspector Lestrade to Holmes and me, as we were getting down to the river. July night was clear, the full moon was shining deadly in the cloudless sky, getting its mercury ghost light to the landscape. A mist smoked over the river, spreading on the wet banks that made an illusion of broader water stream. At the water there were two policemen and a police doctor, awaiting for us. A body of the drowned man was near their feet.

Frankly speaking we altogether with Lestrade came to Leeds town for another reason – we were providing with an investigation of the Bank Of New York company’s black deal.

Police inspector Sherman had met us at the station and said about just founded a drowned man. Although it was urgent case Lestrade made us go to the place – he was always sure the police was helpless without his assistance.

“Aha!” Lestrade crouched over the body, turned his head covering his nose by the palm. “Shit! The smell is hard. For how long is the body here in the water?”

“About two weeks,” answered the police doctor. “Pretty long.”

I was standing in the distance, Holmes stood near Lestrade, looking down at the body in the light of kerosene lamps of the policemen.

“Yes, two weeks,” said Holmes. “Could you light the face once again? Well, thank you… What do you think of that?” Holmes turned to the police doctor, pointing out to the wounded head of the drowned man.

“This? It was hit by some hard object. A rock for sure. This hit for sure was a fatal. Then they did push the body in the river.”

“I got it too,” nodded Lestrade. “I feel by my nose such cases.”

Lestrade was saying this covering his nose and moving back of the body.

Out of the Lestrade’s back I saw the body in the grass. It was a man of about 40, in the unbuttoned jacket, all wet an in the river mud, in dark trousers and former white shirt. Now the shirt was the same color as his face – dirty-grey. This scene was awful, I turned away.

Inspector Sherman walked down to us from the road.

“The case is getting a little bit clear,” said the inspector. “I was told the dead man is probably Edward Kelvin, an engineer of textile factory in Leeds. He has disappeared two weeks ago. His family informed us about it, but we could not help. Kelvin had gone to London where he was selling his hereditary house. He had to be back with money just two weeks ago. They saw him leaving London for Leeds. They saw him in Leeds railway station, getting off the train. Then he vanished. And now… here he is!”

“Did you examine the body?” asked Holmes.

“For sure,” answered Sherman. “We did find no any money although a big sum had to be. His pockets are empty, turned upside, nothing at all. I think they killed him because of the money.”

“Wish I had found this bustard!” Lestrade’s voice sounded. “I would… I would…”

“Please give light over here!” Holmes addressed to the policeman.

Kerosene light spotted left hand of the dead man. Fingers were clenched. Holmes squatted down trying to unclench fingers.

“What is it?” asked Sherman surprisingly.

“Some mud,” echoed Lestrade.

Staying around we watched at wet grass in the body’s hand.

“That is not river mud,” said Holmes. “Kelvin turned out to be in the water after the death.”

“Well,” shrugged his shoulders Lestrade. “Then what is it?”

Using pincers Holmes took a wet piece of grass, looked at this closer. By his other hand Holmes got out a magnifier to examine the grass.

“This is clover.”

Holmes returned the piece of grass back to the hand of the body, put magnifier and pincers in his pocket and turned to the inspector.

“Now, let’s remember where is a clover field near by?”

Sherman fell to thinking. He said: “Nowhere. There are no such places. But one…”

The only clover place was one mile from us, up to the river…

“That is the very place,” said Holmes as we turned out in the clover meadow in 30 minutes later. “Kelvin was killed, robbed and push into the river. Who lives there?” He pointed out to the only house near by. Sherman asked the same question to the local policeman.

The answer was:

“This is Michael Porter house. He runs local consumer goods shops. His business goes not well, he is almost ruined. This house is already for sale.”

“Porter… This name is familiar to me,” murmured Sherman. “Got it! Porter is the only witness! The man who was in the same train with Kelvin while coming back to Leeds! Wonderful!”

“Come on to talk to him”, Lestrade advised. “I feel by my nose he is in the deal.”

“Is it good?” asked I. “Deep night. One o’clock AM…”

But Lestrade and Sherman laughed.

“Just at night time the predator catches its game, my friend!” Lestrade said solemnly and clapped my shoulder. “People can’t lie right after sleeping.”

* * *

But Mr. Porter looked calm. He said:

“Well, I was in the train room with your Kelvin. I’ve never seen him before. As for his big money, I can’t say anything about that. It seems to me he was saying something about his house purchase in London… Well, I was listening to him not attentively. In Leeds we dropped in some café near my house. Just for a little. Then I went my way, he went his own one.”

“We have an information that Mr. Kelvin was killed near your house, Lestrade said rather roughly. “Could you remember something unusual took place two weeks ago?”

“What?” Porter got surprised. He looked a bit confused now. Then he looked at the window where the full moon was shinning brightly the clover meadow along the bank.

“Well! I remember!” said he gladly. “Two weeks ago it didn’t look too much unusual, but now, when you said about murder… I was just entering the house as saw in the window a stranger.”

“Stranger?” asked Lestrade. “Why stranger?”

“He looked as a typical London’s dandy, not as a regular local man. He was in a blue cloak, light-grey hat, brown fashionable costume and horn-rimmed spectacles. Now I guess it was the same place to where Kelvin had gone. That man in blue was holding some package. And he looked back. Now I’m sure he was a killer!”

“Are you really sure about all these details you told us about this dandy?” asked Holmes.

“Yes, it was full moon, pretty light, and I remembered this man rather well”.

As the interview was over Lestrade and Sherman walked away in the yard together with us to discuss this information.

“What we are going to do, gentlemen?” asked Sherman. “What are your ideas?”

“I feel we have found the trace!” Lestrade hit by his fist his palm. “We need to search this man in blue cloak. In London! Unfortunately, our victim was not good in choosing clients for his buying. Porter looked rather honest. I feel he is saying the truth.”

Holmes smiled. He rocked his head.

“Gentlemen, this Porter tried to fool us. But he failed. Though some one believed him.”

“How did on Earth he fooled me?” Lestrade raised his eyebrows. He looked hurt and angry with Holmes’ words. The rest looked at Holmes with interest.

ANSWER:

“Please, look up,” answered Holmes. “You see the full moon. Porter is not good in astronomy. He could not see the full moon two weeks ago. It was the new moon there. Remind you, my friends, the full Moon happens regularly in 30 nights, but as for two weeks ago – it was the new moon, when we can’t even see the moon in the sky – it is too close to the sun and perfectly invisible. That’s why it is always dark, that’s why Porter could not see any color of the running man cloth. Light-grey, blue or red – all the colors are the same – black in such a darkness!”

“You are right!” Lestrade’s face lit. “I was thinking just about the same. Well, what we are waiting for?” And he turned to Sherman: “Come and get this bustard…”

When the policemen leading by Sherman came back to Porter, Lestrade with a happy shinning face turned to us and said: “Sorry, gentlemen, local police is so stupid!..”

In the end I should add that this Porter turned out to be a real murderer of Kelvin.

2. Eye of the Dead Man

It was winter evening of 1896. Holmes and me just finished a dinner and were talking lazily at our Baker Street place, as Mrs. Hudson entered the room.

“Mr. Holmes, here is a message from inspector Lestrade.”

“Interesting,” answered my friend. “Please give it to me…”

He opened a piece of paper and read aloud:

“Dear Mr. Holmes,

We have a problem case in which You can help us with Your deduction method. If You are not against I will remind You our last week discussion where You has said that are able to resolve any case if take part in research from very beginning. We bet for 50 pounds. Although in case You regret about this bet I will accept Your apologize with pleasure. But only together with agreement that Your method is not perfect. If you persist so I wait for You right now at Thornford Road 6, where a murder took place an hour before.

Sincerely Yours

Inspector Lestrade

PS. Please don’t forget to have 50 pounds.”

“Ha-ha!” laughed Holmes. “Well, Watson, we accept this?”

“Without any doubts!” cried out I.

Lestrade met us at Thorford Road.

“Very nice of you, Mr. Holmes!” he was really glad to see us. “You are gambler, Mr. Holmes!” And he jokily shook his finger.

As we were walking to the house, the inspector briefly described the whole situation:

“Andrew Raffit is killed. Well-known industrial boss. Motive is clear: The brilliant Unona is stolen, the brilliant he has bought. Mr. Raffit used to watch it every night in his cabinet. Every evening, about an hour. Frankly speaking I don’t understand such a foolish thing! This night, when Raffit was watching his brilliant once again, two persons were in the house: his servant Pries and a secretary Adams. Some one from them killed Raffit. No one else was able do that. As I understand it Raffit was sitting in his cabinet with his back to the door. A killer came from his back side and hit him by a dirk into the top of his head. And he took the brilliant, but could not go away too far. Well, we have spoiled the killer’s plan, by chance. Our policeman pushed by chance the crystal vase of flowers and the brilliant rolled out onto the carpet. Oh, the bustard is a cunning guy! He didn’t take the brilliant, but put it in into the water – Unona was invisible there. This murderer was planning to return back without any risk, after the mess would be over. But it didn’t come off.”

Lestrade looked very satisfied, he was shinning as a clean jar. I even thought that he had known the real murderer and just wanted to test Holmes.

He continued: “So, we have got the brilliant! As soon as Pries saw it he broke in tears and told us that he and Adams had planned to steal Unona, but not to kill Mr. Raffit. He blamed Adams. Adams confessed too, but he blamed Pries. So we have two suspects! Kitchen maiden saw each of them entering the cabinet. First Pries entered to give Raffit evening mail. In 20 minutes Adams entered, he then said to the servant to turn out the light in the cabinet in 10 minutes, as Mr. Raffit had asked. Raffit used to watch his brilliant in twilight.

Adams is sure that he left Raffit in good condition, alive and health. Pries turned out upper light in the cabinet. The turner unit was out and Pries did not enter the room. Finally, in 20 minutes the maiden came to bring the tea. She found her host dead. Mr. Raffit was still sitting in his armchair, looking straight, but the marine knife was in his head.

The question is – who is a liar? Or Adams murdered Raffit, or Pries did it later… Can you, Mr. Holmes, demonstrate your deduction method now?”

Lestrade victoriously looked at Holmes. He said: “While we are having the main motive – the brilliant – and only two suspects, I want to make our bet a little more difficult. You should figure out the killer in 30 minutes. Do you agree?”

“Thirty minutes?” racked his head Holmes. “This is absurd.”

Smile lit Lestrade’s face.

“So, Mr. Holmes! The bet is not acceptable for you?”

“Absolutely! Not acceptable! As for me, one minute will be enough!”

Holmes made a sign to switch the light on, slightly push away shocked Lestrade and came across the room to the table. He stood before dead Raffit, bowed and began to watch his glass-like eyes.

“What are you doing?” Lestrade was really knocked out by Holmes’ manipulations.

“I look at his eyes,” Holmes murmured in answer. In some seconds he turned to the inspector with a smile on his lips. “So, my dear, where is my money? 50 pounds. I have won the bet!”

“What?..” Lestrade was confused. “Why? You know who is a murderer?”

“Yes, I do. I have seen the killer in the eyes of the dead”, Holmes said still smiling and got out his pipe.

Lestrade was standing still confused. Then he laughed, shaking his finger:

“Ha-ha! I know what you mean! You mean this foolish fairytale about the eye of the victim makes a picture of the killer! This is a bull shit!”

“Picture of the killer on the eye cornea? Yes, it’s all foolish fantasy,” nodded Holmes. “You are right! Even though should this miracle be a real one you would never see the killer cause the victim didn’t see him. Raffit sat with his back to him,” Holmes smoked his pipe. “I mean different. Watch the eyes of Raffit! And you will read the name of the killer in them!”

Lestrade suspiciously looked at Holmes. He came to Raffit and was staring at his eyes for a while.

“Nothing at all is written on them,” said he finally.

“Well, this is what my deduction method is!” Holmes kept on smoking. “I just see what you do not see…”

I also had a look at dead eyes of the businessman, but did not see anything. At some moment it seemed to me there was a mist image of some head in the big pupil of the dead eye. Some forehead, some awful ugly face, short cut hair… I felt a chill and turned away.

ANSWER:

And here is an explanation that Holmes has told us:

“There is no any image in the eye-pupil of the dead person! It is a medical fact! But I mean something different! The main moment of our case is that Adams entered the room when it was light there. As for Pries, he came in there when the light was over. What does indicate the moment of the murder? Only one object can indicate this moment. This object is an eye-pupil. Raffit was killed quickly and his death came fast because of quick strike in his brain by sharp object, and his pupils remained the same as they were at the moment of the death. They remain big as they could be in the dark room. If the pupils are small – it means that the murder happens in the light room. But his pupils are big. When I saw it I understood that the murderer is Pries, the servant, who entered in the dark cabinet and decided not to share the price of the brilliant with his partner. He took Adams’ dirk and killed the businessman as if it Adams did it. That’s all, my dear Inspector. So I earned my money in the honest battle.”

Lestrade had a morose look. He was standing looking down at his nails, keeping silence… As it turned out later he was sure the killer was Adams just because of the dirk, which belonged to him.

When we left the house Holmes smiled and did push me in the side:

“Study, Watson, to earn easy money. I have made 50 pounds for just one minute of work!”

3. Mystery Murders

“You know, dear Mr Holmes, very strange, mystery murders take place sometimes,” said inspector Lestrade. His voice sounded seriously. It looked like he knew what he was talking about. Holmes and me altogether with Lestrade were sitting before the fireplace at our Baker Street apartment. There was raining outside, but inside we were having a nice “weather” of our cozy dark room along with sipping warm brandy.

Holmes was smoking his pipe and looking at the fire asked:

“As far as I understand you are talking about MYSTERY murders?”

“Right,” answered Lestrade. “In my practice I have some cases which could not be explained by regular way. Only by mystery.”

“Very interesting,” said Holmes. “And what cases do you mean?”

“For example there is one strange case that took place over here at Baker Street long before you moved here. About 25 years ago.”

Lestrade paused for awhile and then continued:

“Just imagine, my dear friends, some gentleman got out of home at 13th day of the month and a brick hit his head. Foolish death! Rare one! But in a month, back again at 13th day, another man was killed by the same way! What do you think about such wonderful cases?”

“It’s unbelievable!” said I. “This is a tragic coincidence, or…” I confused and did not finish my thought.

“Or it is fantasy,” Holmes finished for me. “Isn’t it, my dear Inspector?”

“Of course not! You may find the details of these cases in old papers in the library. Various papers wrote about that. And I researched both of these cases.”

“Really?” Holmes turned to Lestrade. “And what was the final report?”

“Actually… There was no any report. Every one took it as force major, coincidence. Tragedy cases without any human participation.”

“If it is not so hard for you, my friend, could you tell us about that a bit more?” asked Holmes.

“Well, for sure. Some Walter Thomson was first who died. He worked in the Geographic Society magazine. His body was found in some hours. And a brick near by. As we discovered there were construction works on the roof of the house No 169. By the night all the bricks were packed in the set, but it was raining and the water broke the set of bricks. One brick did slide to the edge of the roof, fell down and hit the head of this Thomson. As I said the date of the day was 13th. They said the weird power was involved – the house is on the former place of executions.

But the official report was taken as a tragic natural reason. In one month, at the 13th day too, it was raining again. Retired colonel Chasey left the house for the club. His wife Rosa was seeing him off, she was right at the doorway when thunder and the lightning took place.

As she said the lightning did strike the same bricks set on the roof and one brick flied up then down and hit Chasey. This hit was so strong that his end of glasses, a metal end, cut his skull over the ear. Like a knife into the butter.

This case caused a real panic. They said it happened because of that damned house. The papers wrote something about mystery nature of the both cases. Even I thought about mystic source of that damn cases. The lightning can do like that. My aunty had seen lightning hit the pole, and a big piece of the pole was thrown out for hundred yards. So the lightning killed the colonel. But the lightning can’t be arrested.”

Lestrade silenced. We all kept silence for a while. Fire light was dancing on the floor, rain was dropping to the window… I was thinking about all this mystic that had taken place over here. I pictured myself all these awful murders in such raining days… I shivered. It was Holmes’ cold voice that broke the silence.

“You are right, Lestrade, the lightning cannot be arrested. But a real killer must be caught. Although he is free.”

“I don’t understand,” the inspector lifted his brows. “You want to say…”

“Yes, Mr. Lestrade. Colonel Chasey was murdered by a human. Without any mystic. This damned mystic spoiled all the deal. How can’t you see? There are three good items that one must not ignore. Think it over!”

ANSWER:

“First,” said Holmes coldly. “A young Chasey’s wife could not see from the doorway the lightning hit the roof. She didn’t see the moment of lightning struck the bricks. She could not and she did not see the brick falling down to the head of Chasey. This is a fiction.

The lightning can’t hit the bricks on the roof at all. According to the law all houses of London have lightning rods. Ball lightning, you may say? Well, but how could the brick hit the glasses over the ear? So the struck was done not on the top of the head but at the back of it, near the ear! It is clear that Chasey was turning back – as he heard the noise behind him – at the moment some one hit his head by the brick. By the way, what about his wife?”

“Nothing wrong,” Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. “She married back again, she had got a good legacy… H-m… I didn’t ever think of her…”

“You are thick as a brick, my dear friend, cause you had ignored all of that! The young woman and her lover did it! They took as a good idea that previous mystic case and organized this murder!” Holmes looked at Lestrade ironically:

“The most mystic case for me it is you, my dear Inspector, as our brave police which is so thick as a brick too! The brick, that had fallen down from the roof.”

4. Major Brown’s Nightmare

It happened so that Sherlock Holmes and me got to some boarding-house of Scotland at 1896. This is a usual place for old couples to have a rest. It took us several days to stay there, but we had some strange case over there.

We did rent two rooms on the first floor. A retired major Brown just from India and his medicine doctor Adams lived the next door. Because of constant nightmares Adams recommended Brown to have a rest at some cozy place. There, in Scottish boarding-house Brown was getting better.

Once in the morning loud voices made me get up. I got my dressing-gown on and left the room. I saw Holmes, he looked worried.

“What the hell, Watson?” asked Holmes me. “They did not let me watch my good dream.”

“Something happened in Brown’s room,” I answered.

“The very guy that came from India with his nightmares? He saw something bad again?”

The lady-host Mrs. Carry appeared right at this moment. She was pale.

“Oh, my God! Death!” cried out she. “In my boarding-house! Oh my God!”

“Mrs. Carry!” Holmes did not look sleepy any more. “What is going on?”

“Gosh!” cried out the woman again. “You don’t know yet? Major Brown! Poor Brown! He is dead! Because of nightmare!”

Me and Holmes looked at each other. This news was very strange.

In the room we saw doctor Adams, a nervous man in round glasses and small beard, and dead Mr. Brown, who lied in the bed with a grimace of terror on his face.