Chronology of these short stories.
- DANC - July to August, 1898
- RETI - summer 1898, there is now a telephone installed at 221B
DANC was published in December 1903, and most Sherlockians agree that the case took place in July 1898. It also features the stick-figure cipher which Holmes solves with his cryptography skills. This story needs the hand-drawn images, so it loses something in audio-only adaptations.
Holmes has been working on a chemical experiment for hours in silence when he suddenly speaks, astonishing Watson. It's much like his mind-reading trick in CARD, but it's weird that Holmes deliberately waited to do it now, when he could have remarked on it last night or over breakfast. The deduction was based on Watson having chalk on his fingers last night, from playing billiards at his club. Apparently, Watson only plays billiards with Thurston, and Holmes keeps Watson's checkbook locked in his [Holmes's] drawer. Does that mean that Watson gambles too much, so he's agreed to give Holmes control of his finances? Or does it mean something more innocuous, like the lock on Watson's own desk is broken, so he asked Holmes to lock it up for him?
After the deduction about South African securities, Holmes shows Watson the message that came "by the first post" presumably this morning. Why did Holmes hold it back and not show it to Watson at breakfast? He's a weird drama queen to constantly want to surprise Watson at the last minute, when he could have spoken up hours ago. (Unless Watson is fibbing a bit to make a more dramatic story opening.)
In any case, the doorbell rings, and the client Hilton Cubitt arrives, so presumably Holmes stops his chemical experiment. Cubitt had sent the message ahead of him to give Holmes time to look at the code. Holmes thinks it is just a childish prank, but Cubitt tells them that his wife is deathly afraid of these drawings, so they must mean something. Holmes studies the image again, then tells Cubitt to sit and tell his story.
So Cubitt says that he met his wife when he came to London last year for the Jubilee. This could mean either Victoria's Golden Jubilee on June 20-21, 1887 or her Diamond Jubilee on June 22, 1897. Most Sherlockians choose the Diamond Jubilee since Watson seems to be living with Holmes and not married; even if you think that SIGN took place in September 1888 (which I don't), the three months before it should be empty of cases, so DANC can't be in July 1888.
Last year, Cubitt stayed for about a month in London, and he met an American woman named Elsie Patrick at the boarding house. They fell in love and rushed to get married; hardly wise behavior for a man so proud of his respectable old family heritage in Norfolk. However, the day before their wedding, Elsie made Hilton promise never to ask about her past, and he agreed. They've now been married about a year.
Everything was happy, but "a month ago, at the end of June," Elsie received a letter from America. Thus we must be in late July 1898. She turned pale, read the letter, then threw it in the fire. She's been frightened ever since, but she won't confide in her husband. About a week ago, "Tuesday of last week," Hilton found a chalk drawing of dancing figures on a window-sill. The stable-boy denied drawing it, and Hilton had it washed off. But when he mentioned it to Elsie, she begged him to show her any more drawings like that. Yesterday morning, a new drawing appeared on the sundial in the garden. This time it was on paper, so Hilton showed it Elsie, and she fainted. So Hilton wrote to Holmes and enclosed the paper with the stick-figures on it.
Holmes tells him he should probably ask his wife to explain, but Hilton won't break his promise. He can't go to the police, who will laugh at him, but he can consult Holmes, which is technically not breaking his promise to Elsie. Holmes questions him a little about any strange people in the Norfolk neighbourhood lately. He says he can't decode the drawings with so short a sample, so Cubitt needs to return home and send Holmes copies of any new drawings.
Nothing happens for "a fortnight or so," then Holmes tells Watson not to go out, because Cubitt sent a telegram this morning and should be here soon. The telegram was in the morning, and it's now about 1:30 PM, so again, why does Holmes wait until the last moment to share news with Watson? He should have told him at breakfast so Watson could run his errands before the afternoon. Also, since it's been a fortnight, they're probably in August now.
Hilton says that Elsie "has spoken about my old family, and our reputation in the county, and our pride in our unsullied honour" but has not confessed anything yet. Hilton says that he got a new drawing the day after he consulted Holmes, so why didn't he write a letter to him that day? It was another chalk drawing, this time on a shed door. After copying the drawing on paper, he rubbed it out (didn't he let Elsie see it first?), then two mornings later, there was another new drawing, so Hilton copied that one down too. Then three days later, there was a paper drawing left on the sundial again, but it was just a repeat of the previous drawing. Why didn't he send these messages to 221B immediately? Victorians even had multiple posts a day, so why is he so stingy about sending things to Holmes?
That night, Hilton stayed up late with a gun in his study. Sitting at the window, he wanted to catch the mysterious person in the act of drawing or leaving messages. At 2 AM, Elsie asked him to come to bed, but he refused. She pretended that the drawings were harmless pranks, but suggested that she and Hilton go traveling to get away from them. Hilton won't be driven away by practical jokes, and says "we should have the whole county laughing at us." Why should you care about the county? Your wife is terrified, and you're worried about your pride and reputation! I used to think Holmes was solely to blame for the tragic outcome of this case, but Hilton is just as at fault for his stubbornness. Maybe if Hilton didn't put so much emphasis on his honoured heritage, Elsie wouldn't be so intimidated about possibly sullying his Cubitt name. Fucking men.
Anyway, the Cubitts are still arguing in his study when Elsie spots something outside. In the moonlight, Hilton sees a creeping figure by the tool-house and tries to go after him, but Elsie restrains him desperately. By the time he gets free and goes out, the shadowy figure is gone, but there's a message on the door. It's just a repeat of the last two messages. Hilton searches all around the grounds, but can't find the guy. Yet in the morning, maybe after breakfast, Hilton looked at the door again and found an new message there, so he copied that down.
Holmes verifies that the new message is on a different panel of the door, and apparently Holmes takes that to mean that it is a reply, rather than part of the previous message. Hilton says that he continued to argue with his wife about holding him back that night, but she said she was afraid he'd be harmed if he chased the guy. He doubted her at first, then decided she was sincere. Isn't it weird that Hilton's narrative only seems to take place over a week, and not a fortnight as Watson reported?
Anyway Hilton now wants to "put half a dozen of my farm lads in the shrubbery, and when this fellow comes again to give him such a hiding that he will leave us in peace for the future." That might be a good plan, but Holmes discourages him. Why not send Watson with his own revolver to help the farm lads, if you don't think you can go yourself? Or why not ask Scotland Yard to trust your judgement and send police protection to the Cubitts? In fact you could have asked them for help in searching all the nearby farms and lodging houses for the American stranger that you know is there. These are all things you can do even though you haven't decoded the messages yet.
Instead, Holmes says he'll study the drawings and probably come see him in a day or two, so Hilton returns home to Norfolk again. For two hours, Holmes works on breaking the dancing men cipher, and then he seems satisfied and sends a long telegram. He says to Watson that he can probably go to Norfolk tomorrow, if he gets an answer to his telegram. Why wait that long? It's still probably late afternoon, so he could write to Cubitt or visit him that night, to show that he decoded the messages, and that the enemy is staying at Elrige's.
Yet Holmes doesn't do anything useful. He just sits there for two fucking days waiting for a reply to his stupid telegram. (And we later learn that the information isn't even important; it's just confirmation that Abe Slaney is a criminal.) Even if Slaney had no criminal record and was just a stalker harrassing his ex-girlfiend, that doesn't mean that there's no danger. Holmes should have urgently gone to help Cubitt and/or confronted Elsie with the decoded messages, so that she would confess. What the fuck is wrong with Holmes, waiting on the reply for two days?
The last message they get from Hilton is a letter in the evening with a long dancing men cipher. Holmes decodes it, then asks Watson about trains to Norfolk. The last one has left already. But Holmes knows this case is urgent. So why doesn't he hire a special train to take him there, like Moriarty hired a special in FINA? Why does he not send a telegram to Cubitt to warn him of danger? Holmes only talks about having an early breakfast and taking a morning train. He's as culpable in the death of Hilton Cubitt, as he was culpable in the death of his client John Openshaw in FIVE.
The next morning they arrive too late, learning from the train stationmaster of the overnight tragedy. Hilton was shot dead, and Elsie shot herself, but is barely alive. The servants think that Elsie shot her husband before attempting suicide. Holmes and Watson go to Riding Thorpe Manor, feeling gloomy and despondent. Inspector Martin is surprised by their arrival, but lets them join the case. The local police surgeon says Elsie might survive, but he won't give an opinion on her guilt in the murder. There was only one pistol in the room, with two empty barrels. The tragedy happened at about 4 AM last night.
Holmes questions the servants, then examines the crime scene. He discovers a third bullet and proves that there was a third person at the window. He claims that Elsie's instinct would be to shut and fasten the window after the killer got away. Debatable. At least there are footprints in the flowerbed outside, which confirms the presence of a third party. Why didn't Inspector Martin spot that himself? Holmes asks about a local inn called Elrige's but is told there's a farmer of that name in the area. Holmes asks if the farm is remote enough that the residents wouldn't have heard the news yet. In the study, he writes a new dancing man message and sends it with a stable-boy to that Elrige farm. He tells the other servants to admit any visitor who comes asking for Elsie Cubitt, and to not tell him of her current condition.
While they wait, Holmes explains the dancing men to Inspector Martin and Watson. He shows them all the messages and tells them his process of deciphering them. The explanation takes about an hour, and Inspector Martin is impressed, but he says that Holmes should have told him more quickly, lest the killer escape. Holmes says that his message will bring Abe Slaney here. Sure enough, the criminal arrives and they arrest him; he thinks that Elsie is fine, having not stayed long enough to know that she shot herself after he left. (You'd think he would have heard her though, even if she shut the window.) He's upset when they tell him that she's seriously injured, and he asks who wrote the note summoning him. Holmes did, having broken the code.
Holmes urges Slaney to confess to save Elsie from being charged with murder. So he explains their history in Chicago, where he was a member of her father's criminal gang. Elsie's father invented the dancing men code, and they all learned it. He says that 2 years ago "she was pledged to me," likely an arrangement that was made with her father but not with Elsie's consent. She left America rather than marry Abe, and he tracked her down. When she didn't reply to his letter, he came to England. He's been at the farm a month, and after his "prepare to meet thy God" threat, she wrote him a letter to meet her at 3 AM at the window. She tried to bribe him with money to leave, but he just got angry, and then Hilton walked in on them. The men shot at each other, then Abe Slaney ran off.
Inspector Martin leaves with his prisoner, while Holmes shows Watson the message he wrote, simply "Come here at once" in code. They take a 3:40 PM train back to London. Watson tells us that Abe Slaney ultimately got his death sentence commuted while Elsie Cubitt recovered and is devoted to the estate now. Despite Holmes's great skill in solving the dancing men cipher and capturing the criminal, I still consider this case one of Holmes's biggest failures. The sheer negligence of waiting 2 days, and then waiting again overnight when he has a death threat in his hands, is just unbelievable.
I wonder if Holmes realized his incompetence in DANC and became depressed again afterwards. When Watson greets him in RETI, Holmes is in a "melancholy and philsophic mood" after just seeing a new client. Watson thinks that the old man looked like a "pathetic, futile, and broken creature" when he departed. Holmes agrees gloomily, "Pathetic and futile. But is not all life pathetic and futile? ...We reach. We grasp. And what is left in our hands at the end? A shadow. Or worse than a shadow--misery." Lighten up, man. Holmes hasn't sounded this depressed about the world since CARD in 1890.
Published in December 1926, RETI is one of the very late stories of the Casebook, and I keep thinking it takes place just before his retirement, but actually it's in the middle of the post-Return cases when Watson said Holmes was so busy. Josiah Amberley was a junior partner in a manufacturer of artistic materials. That's why he's called a "colourman," due to the paints they sold.
Amberley apparently consulted Scotland Yard first, who referred him to Holmes "as medical men occasionally send their incurables to a quack." Amberley retired in 1896 at the age of 61, and he bought a house in Lewisham. "Early in 1897 he married a woman twenty years younger than himself" then "within two years" he's now miserable and seeking help from Holmes. So that means that today should be 1898 or 1899 at the most.
Holmes describes the case as a stereotype of "a treacherous friend and a fickle wife." Dr. Ray Ernest was a young man in the neighborhood who often visited and played chess with Amberley. Dr. Ernest and Mrs. Amberley disappeared last week, along with some money from Amberley's deed box. Holmes just accepts this story as given, with no skepticism at all. It's a "commonplace problem" that reinforces his cynical view of the world; I wonder why he didn't refuse the case altogether for not being "singular" like he prefers.
Anyway, Holmes says he's busy with another case right now, so Watson needs to go investigate for him, just like in HOUN, LADY, and SOLI. Why does Watson keep agreeing to this thankless task, knowing that Holmes will never be satisfied? So Watson goes to Lewisham on "a summer afternoon" and asks directions from a heavily moustached man smoking in the street. The garden is neglected and the house is rundown, but it smells of fresh paint. Disappointed that Holmes didn't come, Amberley pours out his grievances against his wife and friend for an hour or so. He shows Watson an unused theatre ticket from the night that his wife stayed home due to a headache. He says that he came back at midnight to find that she had disappeared and his securities were gone. Amberley also shows Watson the strong-room where he kept his deed box.
As Watson catches a train back to London, he spots the same moustached man from before. The man follows him awhile before Watson loses sight of him.
Watson returns to Baker Street in the evening to give his report to Holmes, who irritably tells him to "cut the poetry" in his narrative. Holmes also alludes to Amberley having an artificial limb; I think it's his left leg, but it doesn't make much difference. (Later, Watson will make a gross statement about Amberley's "misshapen" soul and his distorted body; Victorians are constantly attributing goodness to beauty and evil to ugliness or nonconformity.) At least Holmes approves of Watson noticing the number of the theater ticket. Watson says it's 31, his old "school number"; I'm not sure what he means, but I take it to be something like a homeroom number or locker number. The unused ticket is 31B at the Haymarket Theatre.
As Watson describes the man who followed him on the train, Holmes evidently recognizes him, for he adds that the military-looking man also wears "gray-tinted sun-glasses" and a Masonic tie-pin. Still, he doesn't tell Watson who the moustached man is. Then Holmes launches into his familiar refrain of "you have missed everything of importance" about the case. He says Watson should have questioned the neighbours to confirm the story about Mrs. Amberely and Dr. Ernest. "With your natural advantages, Watson, every lady is your helper and accomplice." He seems to think Watson should have been charming local women left and right by whispering soft nothings to them.
Watson offers to go back and do that, only for Holmes to say it's not necessary, because he's already made inquiries by telephone and through Scotland Yard. Then why on earth criticize Watson for it, Holmes?! Incidentally, this appears to be the first time that 221B has a phone installed. It's not mentioned in DANC when a phone call could have saved the Cubitts if they also had one installed. But given Holmes's negligence to even send a telegram to Hilton, I'm not sure that Holmes would have been competent enough to use the phone if he had it.
Anyway, Holmes says that Amberley is reportedly a miser and a harsh husband, so his wife certainly could have fallen for the young doctor's charms. Holmes seems to still accept Amberley's story at face value, and yet he is starting to have nagging doubts. Perhaps to make things up to Watson, Holmes asks him out to dinner and a concert at Albert Hall.
The next morning, Watson finds a note from Holmes at breakfast. He's gone out to make inquiries, but will return at 3 PM, and may want Watson's help then. So Holmes returns in the afternoon, and soon Amberley arrives too, with a strange telegram from a vicar in Little Purlington, who claims to know something about the mystery. Holmes urges his client to go see the vicar, but Amberley says that it's a waste of time in money. Holmes insists, and tells Watson to go with him on the 5:20 train. Before they leave, he takes Watson aside and tells him to make sure that Amberley really goes. If he slips away, telephone Holmes to say that he's bolted.
So Watson goes on his mission with Amberley to Little Purlington, apparently a remote village in Essex. "The weather was hot, the train slow, and my companion sullen and silent." When they finally reach the vicar, he knows nothing and angrily calls the telegram a forgery. Watson claims that Little Purlington is "the most primitive village in England" and yet there is a telephone at the Railway Arms, so he can at least call Holmes. Unfortunately, they've missed the last return train to London, so they'll have to stay the night at the inn. Holmes chuckles at their predicament, so you know that he totally planned this.
The old miser complains again about the hotel bill, and the next morning they return to Baker Street, but Holmes is not there. There's a message for them to meet him at Lewisham, so they go there. To their surprise, Holmes is already inside Amberley's house. He's in the sitting-room with the moustached man who wears gray sunglasses. He finally introduces the guy as his friend Mr. Barker, who also was working this case.
Holmes abruptly asks, "What did you do with the bodies?"
Amberley jumps up and screams, apparently panicking at the accusation. Then he falls back into his chair and he tries to swallow something, but Holmes stops him, hinting that justice must be done. He and Barker forcibly take Amberley in a cab to the police station, leaving Watson alone for half an hour. Why on earth would you plan things this way, Holmes? Why not call the police to meet you at the house? You're just going to keep Watson in suspense and confusion?
Well, Holmes returns with young Inspector Mackinnon instead of Barker. He explains to Watson that Barker is his detective rival on the Surrey shore. Holmes even compliments his good work, as if proud that a younger generation is following in his footsteps. Like how he used to seem proud of young Stanley Hopkins. But he brags that Amberley's actions were "virtually a confession." No I don't think so, Holmes, unless laws were really different back then.
Mackinnon is also skeptical and complains of Holmes's irregular methods.
Holmes says he'll give Mackinnon the credit of solving the case.
Mackinnon sensibly asks him, "You say that the prisoner, in the presence of three witnesses, practically confessed by trying to commit suicide, that he had murdered his wife and her lover. What other facts have you?"
What indeed? Holmes says that police constables should search the cellars, garden, and wells for the bodies. He talks about Amberley's scheming mind, as shown by his playing chess. He also had a jealous mania, and "rightly or wrongly" he suspected that his wife and friend were having an affair, so he cleverly plotted to murder them for the betrayal.
Going to the strong-room, Holmes points out the clue of the paint in the house, to cover the smell of gas. Also, Holmes checked the theatre tickets from the night in question, and Amberley's alibi was false. So that he could fully examine the house, Holmes sent "an agent" to Little Purlington to wire the false telegram from the vicar. (I'm not sure if the agent is an Irregular or maybe that Mercer guy mentioned in CREE.) Then he had Watson escort Amberley to that village, so Holmes could have all night to burgle the house. "Burglary has always been an alternative profession had I cared to adopt it, and I have little doubt that I should have come to the front."
The inspector doesn't bother to admonish Holmes about his burglary. Holmes is just bragging like in CHAS. Anyway, he shows them the gas-pipe that leads into the strong-room, and the tap is outside, so Amberley can trap his victims inside and kill them. The paint was meant to cover up any lingering smell of gas.
Holmes says he was sneaking out of the house at dawn today, when Barker caught him, and they had a laugh about both being on this case. Barker had been hired by the family of Dr. Ray Ernest to investigate his disappearance. They decided to combine forces to trick Amberley into his so-called "confession".
Holmes also shows them some writing rather low on the wall, "We we--" which he assumes is the start of "we were murdered" but really it could have been anything. This and the "virtually a confession" are flimsy pieces of evidence, and I wonder if Holmes doesn't understand courts that well. If I were being murdered, I would have written "murder" to be more quick and clear, or maybe even "he killed us." Also, if they died next to the writing, you'd think Amberley would have spotted it and tried to paint specifically over that. Oh well. More plotholes from Doyle.
Mackinnon accepts the story, but wonders why Amberley ever hired Holmes in the first place. Holmes says it was "swank" and overconfidence in his clever murder. (Also, I think Amberley was right in that Holmes bought his story completely on the first day when he seemed to have every sympathy with Amberley as a poor victim of a cruel world.) Only when Watson investigated and learned vital clues did Holmes see through Amberley's lies. I'm glad that Holmes points out Watson's invaluable assistance, though he should really stop his gibes about Watson getting things wrong.
Two days later there is a news article giving credit to Mackinnon, and it also mentions that the bodies were found in a disused well, so finally we have hard evidence that will stand up in court. Holmes tells Watson to file the case away for the future when the truth can be published. Incidentally, Watson commented earlier in the story that "within a week the affair in which I was engaging would be the eager debate of all England." I believe the debate would be on whether Mrs. Amberley and Dr Ray Ernest were actually having an affair or were innocent. And also maybe there was a public debate on whether Amberley was insane and belonged in an asylum.
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