Priceless Heritage

 MAY 20, 2022

 

“Good morning, Watson.  I hope you slept well.”

 

“Good morning, Holmes,” I replied. “I would have slept better if I hadn’t had to suffer the sounds of your blasted violin at about 5 o’clock.  What’s the matter?  You seem out of sorts.”

 

“Well, I suppose I am,” said Sherlock Holmes. “The truth of it is that I am bored.  We haven’t had a decent case for me to get my teeth into since that business with the Duke of York and the young lady of ill repute.  I’ve decided that, if we hear nothing today, I’m going down to the farm to check on my bees.”

 

“Don’t worry, old chap,” I said, in my most reassuring doctor’s voice. “Everything will turn out for the best.  Take my word for it.”

 

At that moment Mrs Hudson tapped on the door to announce she was bringing our morning cup of tea. “And there’s a person here to see you, Mr Holmes. She says it’s urgent.”

 

By the unequivocal sniff that accompanied this announcement and her use of the word ‘person’ I assumed that Mrs Hudson did not wholly approve of the visitor.  I looked forward with some interest to see who this visitor might be.

 

“Well, show her in, Mrs Hudson,” said Holmes, “And bring us another cup, will you?”

 

I certainly don’t have Holmes’s gift for knowing about a person from appearance alone but even I could surmise that the female person who accompanied Mrs Hudson back upstairs seemed to belong to the Servant Class.  She wore a dowdy brown overcoat and a hat that looked like it had been passed down from a previous owner.  She held her head low and barely acknowledged Holmes’s greeting.

 

“Come in, madam,” he said, “and take a seat.  Can I offer you a cup of tea?”

 

“Yes, thank you, sir,” the visitor replied.  “It’s very kind of you.”

 

“So,” said Holmes. “How can Dr Watson and I help you?”

 

“Well, sir,” she began.  “I don’t know where to start.”

 

“Start at the beginning, dear lady, and don’t be afraid,” I said. “Mr Holmes might seem fierce but he’s really very nice when you get to know him.”

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” she stammered, “I’m all upset with what’s been happening. My name is Mary Pierce and I’m a parlour maid at the Duke of Bedford’s home and I’m being accused of stealing what His Lordship said was a priceless piece of English heritage.  I swear I had nothing to do with it but they say that the police will be called in and I’ll lose my job.  I was told not to leave the house but the downstairs maid let me sneak out the back door and I caught a train to see you because I’ve been told that you’re the cleverest man in England.”

 

“That may well be so,” agreed Holmes, “But you’ll need to tell me more about this priceless piece of English heritage which has gone missing.”

 

“Sir, it’s an inkwell which the master believes was the very one which King John used when he signed the Magna Carta.  It’s been in the family since a previous duke won it in a card game in 1427.  I don’t know anything about how it has gone missing.  Please help me, sir.  I can’t pay you much but I’d be ever so grateful.”

 

“Don’t worry, dear lady.  You have caught me at a time when such a challenge will suit me admirably.  Watson, pack your bags and call a cab.  We’re going to Bedfordshire. The game’s afoot!”

 

I confess I felt a little lift in my heart at the news.  “Yes, certainly Holmes,” I replied.  “But, do you mind if I have breakfast first?  If my nose serves me well, it’s both bacon and sausages this morning.”