An Interview with Sherlock Holmes, Harry Houdini and Doctor John Watson. Part Four

An Interview with Sherlock Holmes, Harry Houdini and Doctor John Watson. Part Four

When I left off on the interview yesterday, Doctor Watson was recounting with the help of his friends an incident where he was mistaken for a man with a child and lover. This was both profoundly embarrassing and touching for him, as he is now engaged to Mrs. Hudson, and is far from being a father. No wonder then that Sherlock stepped in to rescue him from the dilemma, which while not a major case for the sleuth, yet was a necessary one for the sanity of his friend.

It should be noted that as we proceed this experience predates the awareness of the trio of multiple worlds, as they are now quite steeply knowledgeable about.

The Author and Interviewer

John Pirillo

Illustration of Doctor John Watson and Sherlock Holmes as drawn by Sydney Paget

Now to the interview:

"I can't help but wonder, Doctor, how you might have responded had Sherlock not shown up as he had." I remarked.

Doctor Watson laughed. "I would probably have waited until I met myself, shook hands, then as quickly as possible hightailed it from that place, never to return."

"So I must assume then that you never met your duplicate?"

Doctor Watson's smile vanished. "Oh, I met him alright, and that was the first time Sherlock and I had a clue as to the overlapping worlds as I demonstrated for you earlier in our interview."

"I see."

"Actually, you don't." Sherlock interrupted. "If I may be so bold as to butt in, it was our first experience of overlapping worlds, but it wasn't until our dear Conan translated into our world, thanks to your ingenuous writing, that we became clearly aware of the dimensions...pardon the pun...of what we were dealing with."

"I agree." Harry added. "Even my magic had never caught such a glimpse before."

"So you used magic then at that time?" I asked, a bit confused where this was going.

"No. Not then. I felt and Sherlock felt that it was in our best interests to remove ourselves from the vicinity until we had more facts."

"I see."

Sherlock cleared his throat. 

I hurriedly added. "That you were all three being as circumspect and kind as possible, while still following the lead to its logical conclusion."

"Precisely." Sherlock agreed.

"And when you returned to London, Doctor, did you ever tell Mrs. Hudson about the...uh...slight embarrassment?"

Watson and Sherlock exchanged glances. I knew there was more, but that would have to wait until another time.

"One thing my readers have been dying to ask you Sherlock is how you came to start wearing your traditional cap?"

He smirked. "Which one?"

"The deerstalker."

"Ah, the one that our dear friend Conan purportedly stuck upon my head." He answered with a slight grimace.

"I can answer for my friend that it was not the work of a writer, but an illustrator. Those chaps don't always know how to grab onto a person's character without toshing about with their image in some way."

"Jolly right." Harry jumped in. "The illustrations of me standing like some giant among my fellows is one I've had to live with for years now. Everyone knows I am tall, but not that tall. They also know that if I were as tall as the illustrations made me to be, I could never have performed many of my illusions."

"It was that rascal Sydney Paget who first drew the deerstalker hat, and of course, once he had done so, I was committed to wearing it...at least when any story about me was written and illustrated."

Sherlock frowned. "Later when I visited Sydney..."

"Wait!" I cried out.

He gave me a surprised look, raising his right eyebrow.

"Sydney's in your universe as well?"

"My dear Pirillo, you surely don't think that just because you included all the original authors as well as their characters that illustrators would be left out?"

Harry laughed. "You have created some aspects of our Universe, but it has certainly been embellished by a much greater hand than any of us has."

"God?"

"Call Him what you will, but something like that." Harry added, a twinkle in his eye.

I didn't like where there was going, so I steered it back to the hat once more. "So. Sherlock. When do you first remember using the hat?"

"I can answer that." Watson interrupted. "If you don't mind, Holmes?"

"Of course not, my friend. Proceed."

Watson leaned forward. "In Hertfordshire there is an Inn of noteworthy proportions that serves as a stop for the rich and the wealthy. It is called the Boscombe.  It is in between Ross and Marion Streets. Quite a lovely establishment."

"I performed some of my first card tricks there." Harry added with a nostalgic tone to his voice.

"And at that time my dear friend here was wearing a top hat, as was his wont. He has always dressed quite proper..."

"As you, Watson."

"Thank you."

"Yes." I urged him.

"And during the course of our stay there to investigate a rather bizarre murder..."

"I remember that one." Harry jumped in. "The cook was found in the back of the inn with his mustache ripped from his upper lip, all his teeth missing and his stomach cut open like a pig in a slaughter house."

Watson almost gagged at the reference, and then caught himself. 

"Something like that. But as I was saying..."

"Holmes found the criminal almost immediately." Harry interrupted again.

Watson fixed Harry with a look of utter annoyance.

"Oh, sorry, Doctor, don't mean to steal your thunder."

"Bloody hell you didn't!" Watson declared, his face turning red.

Sherlock put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Doctor, Doctor, remember we are guests in this man's home."

"Actually, I don't live here. I just rented it for the time of our interview."

"Truly?" Watson asked, his attention diverted, as it usually easily is by Sherlock and his friends.

"Yes. About three hundred dollars for the night, but it includes a free breakfast and a dinner show."

"As in dancers and dancing?" Harry asked, his eyes lit up at the possibility.

"Harry, we might not be able to spare the time." Sherlock reminded him.

"Oh right. That problem."

I plucked an envelope from my jacket and laid it on the table before Harry.

"What is that?

"Tickets for the show for all of you. They're good for a year. So if you can't make it this day, you can the next or a year later."

"Jolly good!" Harry cried out. "I could kiss you!"

I laughed. "A simple thank you would do."

They all laughed, while I considered what Harry had meant by "that problem."

The one I have yet to learn from the three esteemed gentlemen.

"Anyway, as I was describing, before rudely interrupted." Watson fixed a scowl on Harry, who ignored it and began playing cards with himself.

"Sherlock was in the midst of interviewing a gentleman for Inspector Bloodstone, when his top hat just vanished and was replaced by a deerstalker hat and his jacket by a cape. Most disturbing."

"Sydney Paget's doing?" I noted.

"Indubitably." Watson agreed. "I have since had a talk with him, but he assures me that it is now out of his hands, because there are too many illustrators and each with their own interpretation of Sherlock's looks."

Sherlock smiled. "At least they haven't made me ugly and tormented looking."

He smiled at me when he said it, but when he noticed I wasn't smiling back he asked. "They have?"

I sighed.

He spread his hands in a gesture of defeat. "Then perhaps that man lived in another or our dimensions for I surely never have lost my own appearance."

"That would not only be rude and ungentlemanly." Watson stated. "But grounds for a duel!"

"There are still duels in your world?" I asked, a bit perturbed by the implications of such a statement.

"Not openly. But yes." Watson answered. "Holmes and I both were at the shooting end of such in one of our sleuthing adventures. If not for Harry both our lives might have ended that day."

Harry grinned. "But that's..."

I turned off my cell phone, whose light was winking rapidly, meaning I would lose everything if I didn't shut it down. "...A story for another time."

I hope to complete the next part of our interview before this day is over, but if I do not, I will surely have it on the morrow, barring circumstances beyond my control.

I hope you have enjoyed this interview as much as I have. It's amazing how strong the characters of all these men are, and yet they work like hand and glove on a daily basis, solving crimes and facing danger of the most terrible sort.

The Author and Interviewer

John Pirillo

*Toshing is a term that the Baker Universe Londoners use to describe wealthy people who play with the lives of others in not so nice ways.

*The Boscombe Inn was the inspiration for The Boscombe Valley Mystery, Sherlock's  story written in the Strand by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle in 1891.