A cold wind was whipping down Bakers Street in mid-November. Holmes was pacing across the floor like a man possessed; his hands behind his back, and his chin to his chest. I could only imagine smoke boiling from his ears like an old steamer ship. Not only was I struck by the rapid pace he was maintaining but by the fact that he was not wearing a jacket. Holmes’ appearance was always immaculate. A jacket was always required.
“We have a ten o’clock visitor this morning Watson.”
He never looked up nor broke his stride. I was almost sure he was unaware I had even entered the room had he not spoke. “Do you have a card?”
“Table,” his word was as heated as his steppes.
On the table was a white card that read Mr. Cooper P. Merryweather, President, City and Suburban Bank on the back written in pen was Tuesday, 15th, 10:00 am.
There was a knock at the door, Holmes froze in his tracks. “Take care of this. You know my methods.” He flew into his room leaving the door ajar.
I took a deep breath for courage and opened the door. There were two gentlemen. One I recognized from earlier and my opinion of him had not improved. I still saw a snake when I looked at him. He was accompanied by an older man. “Please come in and have a seat.” I took both their hats as they sat on the couch.
The younger man spoke, “is Mr. Sherlock Holmes not at home?”
“He was called out urgently and asked me to assist you. I am,”
The older man held up his hand, his voice was feeble, “you are Dr. Watson. I have read all about you two. I would much prefer to speak with Mr. Holmes. I mean you no disrespect doctor.”
I could not help myself and took a gamble. “How long have you been in England?”
The old man looked at me for a moment, “explain?”
“It is obvious to me that you could not reside here on a full time basis. Your accent gives you away; America then?”
“I did not come here to give you my history.”
“Then why are you here?” I asked as I took my place in what was usually Holmes’ arm chair.
He old man took a haggard breath, “we are here because over the past twenty-seven years I have had the best and the brightest men in the world in this country searching for my daughter. No one has found her. I am an old man full of my days and I am unsure how much longer my health will last. I would like to find my daughter before I die.”
Mr. Merryweather spoke, “I came here some months back to try to speak with Mr. Holmes’ not being well received. Inspector Hopkins assures me he is a man of great intelligence and skill. That is the only reason that I have returned especially after his rude behavior the last time.”
“I am to assume then that you are Mr. Cooper P. Merryweather?” I held up the business card.
“Yes, and this is my father-in-law Mr. James Parker.” The old man would not or could not muster a smile. His old sad eyes looked as if they might break.
I took out my notebook, “very well then. When did your wife disappear?”
“1876.”
I froze for a moment. Neither man noticed they were too involved in themselves to pay attention to me. As soon as I collected my wits I spoke, “What were the circumstances surrounding your wife’s disappearance?”
“My wife was having a hard time adjusting to the difficult Welsh countryside and was sick much of our short marriage, before she disappeared.”
He stopped talking. I waited a moment to see if he was just catching a breath or remembering a fact. Nothing, he said not another word. “That could not be all sir. There must be more to the story?”
“I purchased them an estate in Wales, Caernarfon. Made sure they were set up in a proper home one worthy of my daughter.”
“Tell me about her.”
“She was so full of life. God I dare not imagine her otherwise.”
“Though we had no children yet, I hired a governess. This seemed to cause her great distress and her strange illness started soon afterwards.” Added Mr. Merryweather.
“I cannot tell you how heartbreaking it is to see your beloved child in the state that she was suffering. I hired England’s best doctors to attend to her; even the physician ordinary to the Queen. No one could figure out the cause of her pain.”
It was obvious to me that Mr. Parker was truly concerned about the welfare of his daughter.
“She completely lost it when her beloved horse died.” Mr. Merryweather spoke. There was something about the way he said horse that caused my blood to run cold.
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