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The Murderous Miracle


 A Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Style
I awakened from my morning slumber and groggily entered the
foyer to find Holmes sitting in his chair in a speculative
pose while thoughtfully smoking on one of his many pipes.
"Good Morning Holmes!, " I said in one of my Cheeriest
tones, which wasn't very impressive, due to the fact I am
not a morning person "And what wakes you up so early this
fine morning?"
"Early?" Holmes replied "Why it's nearly noontime, it's you
who have been sleeping in! And making an awful racket with
that dreadful snoring of yours!"
I was struck by a paroxysm of coughing as Holmes' smoke
entered my lungs, "Noontime? Nonsense, That pipe must be
doing more damage than I thought! It is a tad early for
that kind of thing anyway!" said I, a bit less cheerier
than before due to Holmes' mindless banter.
He only smiled and said "See for yourself,my good man, look
through the window onto the common, and tell me what you
I did as he told, clearing my eyes, and to my shock I saw
the townspeople all about in their daily hustle and bustle
which was common to northern London preceding teatime.
"Well, it appears you are right! People are at work,
conducting their business and the like. I'm awfully sorry,
I'm just rather irritable in the morning."
"Quite alright my friend, it's understandable, tell me,
what else do you see at the window?" Holmes calmly stated.
"Well, Nothing out of the ordinary, as I said before,
just..wait! There is a crowd of people around a car right
next to our doorstep!" I exclaimed.
" Is the man a shady character with a dark beard and an
umbrella on his shoulder?" Holmes asked.
"Why Yes! That describes him perfectly! Who is he and how
do you know him?" I asked.
"Well,that happens to be Sir Reginald Chaucer of
Pottingshire, and also one of the most wealthy men in all
of England." said he.
"So? What importance is he to us? And why does he happen to
be on our doorstep?" I voiced.
"He happens to be suspected of the murder of one Friedrich
Nietzche because of financial reasons, and is presumably
our newest client."
Sir Chaucer was a very strange man, very eccentric, those
were the first two thoughts to enter my mind, even as he
was climbing the stairs to the designated "meeting room". I
thought this, not because he was rich, for I do not like to
stereotype a man that way, but as he progressed up the
stairs occasionally he would pause, mutter something to
himself, and go on. Those were not the doings of a sane
man. But for every bit that he was strange, I was ten times
more intrigued by this man, and in wondering why he was
here had piqued my curiosity to the highest mark. But as he
came through the door I tried my best to disguise the
inquisitive look upon my countenance and took a seat.
"Welcome!" my friend called "I assume that you are Sir
Reginald Chaucer of Pottingshire?"
"Of course I am! Who else would I be? I do hope I haven't
come to a drunken sod and not an private detective. At any
rate, I don't want to speak here at all, it's too much
peasantry for my taste, and I fear I could not stay here
long without quickly becoming nauseous."
Sir Reginald, who obviously had no need for formal
introductions, replied. "Therefore," he continued, cutting
off a reply from Holmes "you will come with me to my estate
in Pottingshire whether or whether not it pleases you to do
"But, kind Sir," I interjected "Most of our best work is
conceived right here, and you might be interrupting the
detective process!"
"I did not pay you for your own comfort, but for mine! And
if you are the sort of detectives who rely on a certain
room for your brain power, I think I'll be looking
somewhere else!" Sir Reginald complained.
"Don't worry good man," my friend said "It's just that Dr.
Watson here is a bit bold for his own good, and I can
assure you that such extensive methods need not be taken,"
And as he saw the look of astonishment on my face he cast a
discreet wink my way. "If only," Holmes continued "You
would give my friend a few moments to freshen up and get
into some proper clothes."
"Of course!", Sir Reginald continued, "Do you think I would
lower my reputation by riding around with a ruffian? But
I'll be waiting in the car, I can't stand to be in this
smokepit that you call a home any longer."
And with that, our strange client abruptly turned and made
his way down the stairs, pausing only to look in the air
and mutter something about the condition of his lungs, and
wondering aloud which was worse, the smog outside or inside.
"Holmes, My good friend!" I stated as soon as I was sure
our client was gone, "Where did you find such an impossibly
rude, obnoxious, insufferable,and unbearable patron? I mean
seriously ol' chap? Can an individual possibly be more
intolerable than that?" I asked.
"I'm not quite sure my friend Watson" Holmes said "But I
fear we'll find out if we aren't dashing to his car in the
wink of an eye!" He added with a smile.
Sir Reginald's house was more grand than anything I'd ever
imagined, but it did not have a comfortable, lived-in
environment. It was as if no one had ever lived there and
never should, it was a cold, barren place, and seemed more
a museum than a place where human beings lived.
We were quickly hushed into the main living where both
Holmes and I took a seat and Reginald began his tale..
"There is no archaic background, and no asinine fairy-tale
to go along with this incident gentlemen. One of my more
prestigious competitors who would never enter my house had
it not been for the extensive work he has done on my
brother, has been murdered, and there is no trace of the
murderer elsewhere, so he must be in this house!!" said the
aggravated Reginald.
"Well," Holmes asked "If the culprit is indeed stalking
among the corridors of this very house why have you not
called the police?"
"I did you dolt! And they came,and they took the body, but
could find no sign of the murderer and are searching
elsewhere, but I know myself that the culprit could not
have left!" Reginald screeched irately.
"Well, How can you be so sure? Could you tell us more about
this terrible incident? Please try to be as specific as
possible." Holmes calmly stated, not deterred in the
slightest by the old man's insolence.
"Well, it's a very simple and rudimentary story my friend,
My rival Doctor Fredrich Nietzche ,now deceased, was headed
up towards the library to investigate some latin history or
some such nonsense, then I heard only a blood curdling wail
and made my way with all haste to the library!" Our client
said gruffly.
Inwardly I smiled as I imagined the patriarchal man running
up the stairs, but stopped my train of thought as I
realized I was reaping enjoyment from another man's demise.
"Ah, I see," Holmes said "Well who else was here besides
yourself? Could the culprit be one of your staff perhaps?"
"Impossible, the Staff was gone for the day, and the only
other people here were my brother Douglas Arganth Chaucer,
and myself." he said.
"Well, if it wasn't you, and no one else was here, it had
to be your brother Douglas!" I concluded, inwardly
gratified at my own simple solution.
"Yes, but you forget a simple fact you thick-headed
simpleton! My brother is also crippled and incapable of
crawling, much less dashing up the stairs, And has been
that way since he was 9 and stricken with complete
paralyzation, it is a wonder that he wasn't bed-ridden for
the rest of his life! Furthermore, he owed his ability to
operate the upper-half of his body solely to Doctor
Nietzche! For it was he who helped him through
rehabilitation! I reached the bottom of the stairs before
the murderer could have possibly come down, and there is no
other exit from the library." he continued.
"Alas, we are truly sorry for your brothers condition,"
Holmes added, "But since we can easily dismiss him from
being the culprit, we should continue on a different note,
may we see the crime area?"
"Be my guests, the police have searched it several times
already though." Reginald said, and led us into the library.
ceiling with books of all kinds, literature, history,
philosophy, anything the mind could think of. My stomach
slightly turned as I saw bloodstains in the carpet, but no
other sign of the murder was visible.
"This," Reginald Said "Is where the murder took place, I
have some other business in town to attend to, so you may
search to your hearts delight and perhaps make some sense
of this inanity! And don't touch anything valuable! " with
that he turned and left downstairs to attend to whatever
mindless business he had.
"So what do you think Dr. Watson? Do I perhaps see a smile
on your face because you have already discovered the
culprit of this crime?" Holmes said.
"Well, if what he says is true to some extent. The murderer
never left, or it's Sir Reginald eliminating one of his
competitors, I truly cannot see his crippled brother
pulling himself up the stairs and killing Nietzche and then
going back down before Sir Reginald reached here!" I
inferred. I turned,expecting to see the shock on Holmes'
face at my own ability of decoding the mystery.
But instead, I saw his smile, and knew at once that my
answer was false.
"I'm sorry, my good friend, but you are wrong, I
investigated the blood stains, and it appears that written
in his own blood was a latin symbol 'á', so I don't believe
it is that simple, I am hoping that in your work in the
medical profession that you have come across the meaning of
that particular symbol?" Holmes asked
"Of course! It is a Latin word meaning Beta, and isn't Sir
Reginalds company called Beta-Investments? I'll go talk to
Douglas,about Sir Reginald's relationship with the Doctor.
"Ah, the Latin word 'Beta', how interesting, thank you my
dear friend, as usual, you have proved yourself invaluable
to our noble cause. I will remain here and further
investigate the room, to ensure that everything that could
possibly be found was." Holmes said.
I raced downstairs, thinking to be on the right track with
Reginald, but Douglas' room was unoccupied, And there was
hardly a sign of the man ever being there. As I turned to
tell return to the library and tell Holmes of my discovery,
I was knocked unconcious from behind.
I awakened in a small cellar with a small bruise on my head
which would definitely smart later. As I remembered what
had just transpired, I quickly looked around for a sign of
the scoundrel but saw nothing. I needed not to check the
door to know that it was locked. I sat down to contemplate
my current situation but got no further than being utterly
helpless before the doorknob started to turn. I tried to
compose myself as best as I could to attack, but I am not
the most belligerent of people. The door slowly opened, but
behind the door, to my surprise, was not a devilous rogue
or some sort of murderous swine, but my good friend
Sherlock Holmes!
"It's good to see that you're here, I'm sorry that I
couldn't have helped you earlier, but I only just found out
about this luxurious abode of yours. And then of course I
had to help chase Douglas across the lawn." Holmes said,
without batting an eye.
"What? But Douglas is crippled, Sir Reginald said so
himself! And in fact, I was on my way to go talk to him.."
My words trailed off as I realized what must have
"You are right in one respect, Douglas WAS crippled, but
that was until the recently deceased Doctor Nietzche healed
him. It was nothing short of a miracle, but even miracles
have their price. Nietzche was charging Douglas a small
fortune which Douglas could not afford, so Douglas was
forced to plot less than honorable means of gaining the
money." Holmes stated.
"Such as killing his brother! He knew his brother was rich,
and that he would get the money, and no one would ever
suspect a crippled man. But, something doesnt make sense, I
mean, after Douglas was cured, how could Nietzche charge
"Well, there were contracts and such, but I doubt even that
would mean too much to a man who had only recently regained
the ability to walk. I suppose fear of whatever could be
done, could be undone was enough motivation to get Douglas
worried." Holmes concluded.
"Ok, that makes sense I suppose, but how could you possibly
know it was Chaucer? And where he was hiding me?" I asked,
still slightly puzzled by Holmes' appearance.
"Well, as you were saying, the symbol "á" was a Latin
symbol meaning before, well, Our friend the Doctor was also
looking up some Latin history according to Sir Reginald if
you recall. Using those two facts, I simply searched the
library for a Latin book, and found a dictionary, and
between the pages with the definition for beta, was a full
diary written by Dr. Fredrich Nietzche.
The diary Encluding everything from Douglas' remarkable
recovery, to Douglas' plot to kill his brother. With that
knowledge I was alarmed to think that I had sent you into a
perilous position.
Nietzche had apparently found a diary of Douglas' which had
details of his plan, and threatened to release them to Sir
Reginald Chaucer unless he was given triple his salary.
Douglas had planned to kill his brother and stow the body
in here, hoping that perhaps one of the staff would be
accused of commiting the crime. For it is public knowledge
that he was not fond of his staff. I was only guessing when
I supposed he would leave you here." Holmes concluded.
"Ah, so it was a plot, within a plot, within a plot!" I
stated, pleased with my witticism.
"Hmm," Holmes paused thoughtfully "Not really, Not at all,
come now, let us go back to our flat, it appears you need
some more sleep if you are making feeble jokes such as that
one." He laughed, and I laughed along with him, for we had
just solved the case, of the Murderous Miracle. 



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