his farm and said that he would not be coming to London for several
months.”
“Could the description, the lady just gave us, apply to
Arthur Smith, Watson?” asked Holmes with persistence in his voice.
Watson thought for a moment before replying, in an
unconvinced manner, “Well, I suppose it could, Holmes. But her description
could apply to any of several men! I don’t understand why you are trying to
establish a connection between the description and Arthur.”
“I am not entirely convinced that the primary purpose of
your visit to Arthur’s farm was to help him get settled in.”
A look of shock developed on Watson’s face, as he snapped,
“That is preposterous! All I did the entire time I was with Arthur was to help
out on the farm. You are being ridiculous!” His voice became more raised as
he spoke and his eyes narrowed, indicating his growing anger.
“I have no doubt that you spent the majority of your time
helping Arthur, but I still believe there was another reason for your visit,”
added Holmes, as he watched Watson’s lips stiffen and his face flush.
Watson stopped walking and, glaring at Holmes, shouted, “How dare you accuse me of being a liar, Sir! I demand you explain
yourself!” Watson’s fists were bunched, as he continued glaring at Holmes,
awaiting a response.
“Calm yourself, Watson. I am accusing you of no such
thing.”
“Yes you are!” came the angered response.
Holmes smiled briefly, amused at how easily Watson became
annoyed.
“Would you please allow me to elucidate?” he asked in a
voice somewhat too calm.
Watson looked around, not sure quite what to do. He knew
that Holmes would have an explanation that would render his anger pointless.
Despite still feeing irritated at Holmes, he was also curious.
After a few moments he said, somewhat sarcastically, “Very
well. Please do elucidate.”
“Tell me, Watson, did you get drunk at any point during your
time with Arthur?”
All remaining anger immediately drained out of Watson, as
Holmes’ question sparked a memory from his visit to Devon.
“You are incredible, Holmes. How did you know? One
evening, Arthur suggested that we share some wine. After only half a glass, or
so, I remember feeling very strange. I looked at my glass and realised that I
shouldn’t be feeling so drunk. I don’t remember anything else from that point
until the next morning.”
“How did you feel the next morning? Were you suffering with
a hangover?”
“That’s another odd thing. I felt slightly groggy, but it
wasn’t as bad as a hangover.”
“I believe you were drugged, Watson.”
“Surely not, Holmes. Smith is such a decent fellow. What
possible reason could he have to drug me?”
“I fear that he wanted to gain information from you, old
fellow. It is my firm belief that Arthur Smith and Stephen Wood are the same
man. If I am correct, he tricked you into visiting him, with the intention of
getting you to reveal information about people connected to the trial of his
brother.”
“Are you serious? Do you really believe that Arthur Smith
is actually Stephen Wood? What information would I have been in a position to
give him?”
“Stephen Wood was never present at his brother’s trial.
From what I recall, he had been committed to the lunatic asylum before his
brother’s case came to court. Therefore, he was not privy to any details of
the witnesses, or other people involved in securing Stanley Wood’s conviction.”
Holmes paused, as he felt awkward about what he needed to
say next. He then continued, “Watson, it is my belief that you, unwittingly,
provided Stephen Wood with details about his intended victims. He subsequently
used this information to find and kill anyone he felt was responsible for the
death of his brother.”
Watson’s face sank. He stood looking down at the ground and
quietly said, “But that means people are being killed because of
months.”
“Could the description, the lady just gave us, apply to
Arthur Smith, Watson?” asked Holmes with persistence in his voice.
Watson thought for a moment before replying, in an
unconvinced manner, “Well, I suppose it could, Holmes. But her description
could apply to any of several men! I don’t understand why you are trying to
establish a connection between the description and Arthur.”
“I am not entirely convinced that the primary purpose of
your visit to Arthur’s farm was to help him get settled in.”
A look of shock developed on Watson’s face, as he snapped,
“That is preposterous! All I did the entire time I was with Arthur was to help
out on the farm. You are being ridiculous!” His voice became more raised as
he spoke and his eyes narrowed, indicating his growing anger.
“I have no doubt that you spent the majority of your time
helping Arthur, but I still believe there was another reason for your visit,”
added Holmes, as he watched Watson’s lips stiffen and his face flush.
Watson stopped walking and, glaring at Holmes, shouted, “How dare you accuse me of being a liar, Sir! I demand you explain
yourself!” Watson’s fists were bunched, as he continued glaring at Holmes,
awaiting a response.
“Calm yourself, Watson. I am accusing you of no such
thing.”
“Yes you are!” came the angered response.
Holmes smiled briefly, amused at how easily Watson became
annoyed.
“Would you please allow me to elucidate?” he asked in a
voice somewhat too calm.
Watson looked around, not sure quite what to do. He knew
that Holmes would have an explanation that would render his anger pointless.
Despite still feeing irritated at Holmes, he was also curious.
After a few moments he said, somewhat sarcastically, “Very
well. Please do elucidate.”
“Tell me, Watson, did you get drunk at any point during your
time with Arthur?”
All remaining anger immediately drained out of Watson, as
Holmes’ question sparked a memory from his visit to Devon.
“You are incredible, Holmes. How did you know? One
evening, Arthur suggested that we share some wine. After only half a glass, or
so, I remember feeling very strange. I looked at my glass and realised that I
shouldn’t be feeling so drunk. I don’t remember anything else from that point
until the next morning.”
“How did you feel the next morning? Were you suffering with
a hangover?”
“That’s another odd thing. I felt slightly groggy, but it
wasn’t as bad as a hangover.”
“I believe you were drugged, Watson.”
“Surely not, Holmes. Smith is such a decent fellow. What
possible reason could he have to drug me?”
“I fear that he wanted to gain information from you, old
fellow. It is my firm belief that Arthur Smith and Stephen Wood are the same
man. If I am correct, he tricked you into visiting him, with the intention of
getting you to reveal information about people connected to the trial of his
brother.”
“Are you serious? Do you really believe that Arthur Smith
is actually Stephen Wood? What information would I have been in a position to
give him?”
“Stephen Wood was never present at his brother’s trial.
From what I recall, he had been committed to the lunatic asylum before his
brother’s case came to court. Therefore, he was not privy to any details of
the witnesses, or other people involved in securing Stanley Wood’s conviction.”
Holmes paused, as he felt awkward about what he needed to
say next. He then continued, “Watson, it is my belief that you, unwittingly,
provided Stephen Wood with details about his intended victims. He subsequently
used this information to find and kill anyone he felt was responsible for the
death of his brother.”
Watson’s face sank. He stood looking down at the ground and
quietly said, “But that means people are being killed because of
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