your stead to report and investigate on your behalf. My subsequent discovery that you had been camping out on the moor did nothing to quell those feelings.â
âAnd a very good job you made of it too. A fairly simple case in the end of course; the age old story of greed and revenge. Even though it was such a run of the mill enquiry I profess I am amazed that it seems to be trumpeted to the world at large as one of my greatest triumphs. The power of the written word I suppose, Watson, your written word.â
âI was quite proud of that particular piece. I worked hard to create a certain atmosphere which would reflect those aspects of the moor that leant itself to such tales and legends, the gnarled, wind-blasted trees, the hidden valleys, the ancient Neolithic settlements. The reviews I received were actually rather good.â
âI have to say that if we are praising embellishment and sensationalism then yes, it was a fine piece of work.â
âThank you, Holmes. Did any of my stories meet with your fullest approval?â
âThey met with my limited approval and grudging admiration, but I still feel you missed the chance to record the extent that painstaking detective work can bring villains to book. The actual science of detection seemed to be entirely absent from your chronicles. I fear my deductions came out of the blue to many of your readers who no doubt saw me as some kind of wizard.â
âA view that did not greatly differ from how I saw you myself in the early days of our association. The depth of your deductions and the speed with which you elucidated them had me convinced that you would have been burnt at the stake in a bygone, less enlightened age. Yet, as time went by I was able to follow your deductions and on occasion offer up some of my own.â
âYes, I recall they were often erroneous though. But, to be fair, not all... you always had the makings of a fine detective yourself, Watson.â
âThank you again. I believe I made some useful deductions regarding Mr Henry Bakerâs hat for instance and remember, I did so in a very few seconds whereas you had been examining it for quite a length of time.â
âAh yes, that most singular and initially whimsical problem that chance dropped in our laps. The Countess of Morcarâs missing Blue Carbuncle. It certainly staved off the ennui of the Christmas period, bringing with it the return of the precious stone, the release from gaol of John Horner and a £500 present for the commissionaire, Peterson.â
âI thought the reward the Countess offered for the return of the stone was the sum of £1000.â
âOh yes. I had forgotten the exact amount.â
âHolmes! You never forget anything. I have the notion that you pocketed the other £500. I never was a great believer in your protestations of âart for artâs sakeâ.â
âA man has to live, we had to live. Itâs not as if you did not make some money yourself out of our association. Besides, there was the small matter of assisting you with the purchase of your practice and home in Queen Anne Street.â
âFor which I was very grateful, rest assured. And you announcing to the Duke of Holdernesse that you were âa poor manâ, what do you say about that?â
âI rendered a service to the Duke and he paid me as he would pay anyone who rendered him such a service. At the time I did consider myself a poor man... by comparison with him.â
âNot after his huge payment to you, Holmes, but I do not sit in judgment on you. I had my rewards too; financial, physical and spiritual. The Duke was indeed a worthy client in all respects.â
âAs you know, Watson, a clientâs standing was not of the slightest interest to me. What mattered were those cases that had sufficient strange and dramatic qualities which appealed to my imagination and challenged my ingenuity. If such problems came my