Mrs. Hudson in New York

S Brown Barry

Description

Accompanied by Holmes and Watson, Mrs. Hudson crosses the ocean to attend the wedding of her cousin's daughter. They disembark to discover that the young lady's fiancee, a pitcher for the Brooklyn Bridegrooms, stands accused of an attempt on the life of JP Morgan and the death of his aide. A self-declared enemy of Morgan and the robber barons, the ballplayer ran from the scene of the crime and,when captured, was found inpossession of a gun with two spent cartridges, the same number and caliber as thatused in the attack. Before a wedding can be held, the unacknowledged sage of Baker Street will lead Holmes and Watson along a path of investigation taking them from JP Morgan's mansion to the gambling dens of New York's Tenderloin. With the enthusiastic assistance of Samuel Clemens, the reluctant assistance of Morgan, and the cautious assistance of a leader in the African Broadway community, they will identify the financier's attacker, frustrate effortsto corrupt the game ofbaseball, and rescue the prospective bride and groom from would-be assassins before returning finally to the comparative quiet of 221B Baker Street.Acclaim for earlier Mrs. Hudson novels:"a compelling and enjoyable read"Over My Dead Body Mystery Magazine"an exciting mystery of Victorian England"Midwest Book Review"an entertaining romp"The District Messenger, Newsletter of the Sherlockian Society of London"in this admirable novel ... it's not difficult to be drawn into the events and the investigation ... by a very competent author"Sherlockian.net website"even more fun than his first novel ... one can't wait for a third volume in this series"Wilmington Star-News

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 12 décembre 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781780927893
• Langue: English

Extrait

Title Page
Mrs. Hudson in New York
Barry S Brown



Publisher Information
Published in the UK by MX Publishing
335 Princess Park Manor, Royal Drive,
London, N11 3GX
www.mxpublishing.co.uk
Digital edition converted and distributed in 2015 by
Andrews UK Limited
www.andrewsuk.com
© Copyright 2015 Barry S Brown
The right of Barry S Brown to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1998.
All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this publication may be made without express prior written permission. No paragraph of this publication may be reproduced, copied or transmitted except with express prior written permission or in accordance with the provisions of the Copyright Act 1956 (as amended). Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damage.
Cover design by www.staunch.com
The opinions expressed herein are those of the authors and not of MX Publishing. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.




Dedication
To Peter Mark Roget, about whose work Stephen King has written:
‘’Any word you have to hunt for in a thesaurus is the wrong word .”
If true, there follows a host of wrong words.



Acknowledgements
Although liberties are taken with a reporting of some facilities of the original Waldorf Hotel in the interest of story-telling, the occasional accuracies in its description are a tribute to the assistance of Erin Allsop, archivist for the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.
I am also indebted to Dr. Jeffrey Warhaftig for providing understanding of certain non-lethal effects of gunshots.



1. Voyage to America
At precisely four o’clock, Mrs. Hudson entered the sitting room Holmes and Watson shared, set down her tray of tea and scones, poured out a cup for each man, and announced she would be leaving for New York City at the end of the week. She then proceeded to answer the question they shared before either man could pose it.
‘’I’ve gotten a letter from my cousin, Edna. She’s the one with the daughter in service in America.’’ Seeing their blank expressions, she explained, “Caroline. You met ‘er when she was a maid to Mr. Junius Morgan, the American who was livin’ in Knightsbridge. It was Mr. Junius’ wish Caroline be kept on after ‘e passed which is ‘ow a place came to be made for ‘er on the staff of Mr. Junius’ son, Mr. J Pierpont Morgan. In fact, she ‘as now become Mrs. Morgan’s lady’s maid.” Mrs. Hudson took a sip of tea and made a face that had nothing to do with her tea. “Of course, that means she’ll be livin’ in America for a time.”
While Holmes covered the corner of a scone with a generous dollop of strawberry jam, Watson screwed his face into a frown of recognition. “I do remember Caroline. If I’m not mistaken she came to Baker Street on one of her days out, probably five or six years ago. I remember her as a very attractive young lady with quite a mass of dark curly hair. But why is it so urgent for you to go see her? She’s not in any trouble I trust.”
“Quite the contrary, Doctor. My cousin writes that she’s engaged and is to marry ‘er young man the week after next. My cousin can’t travel what with ‘er own man bein’ off ‘is feet. Besides which, it bein’ April, the season is just startin’ in Brighton where they ‘ave their pie shop. She’s asked me to represent the family for ‘er. Which I plan to do, and of course Edna will want a full report about Caroline’s young man.”
Holmes looked up from his pastry long enough to register his puzzlement. “If this Caroline is about to be married, isn’t it a little late to be looking over her young man?
“Indeed it is, Mr. ‘Olmes, but Edna’s a worrier - that side of the family always ‘as been.”
Watson looked to Mrs. Hudson with a well-arched eyebrow. “Is there something about the young man your cousin finds worrying, Mrs. Hudson?”
“I won’t say worryin’ exactly, Doctor. I’d say more like confusin’. It’s about the way ‘e makes ‘is livin’. Caroline writes that ‘is job is doin’ somethin’ called baseball. ‘E’s what’s called a pitcher, and the people ‘e works for are called the Brooklyn Bridegrooms. Which all sounds strange enough, but it turns out ‘e only works at that job six months of the year. My cousin doesn’t see ‘ow ‘e can support a wife and family workin’ six months a year at whatever it is a pitcher does. Of course, my cousin’s been sellin’ meat and fish pies in Brighton for fifteen years, almost entirely durin’ the season, which you know is no more than six months long, but there’d be no good pointin’ that out to Edna. Like I say, she’s a worrier.”
Holmes took a sip of tea to wash down a second bite of his scone, and looking to the cuffs of his dressing gown, he off-handedly elaborated a plan that was to change their lives in ways none of them could have imagined. “If you are determined to make a transatlantic voyage, Mrs. Hudson, I propose that Watson and I accompany you.”
Watson clapped his hands. “Holmes, that’s inspired. We have nothing on currently, and if you could stand the company, Mrs. Hudson, the truth is we could all do with some time away. And I must admit I, for one, am anxious to see this metropolis some say rivals London.”
Mrs. Hudson made a small smile which she withdrew as quickly as she became aware of its appearance. She told Holmes and Watson that the arrangements they proposed would be “very agreeable.” She informed them that she planned to sail from Liverpool on the SS Teutonic in five days although she hadn’t purchased her ticket yet. She made clear she would be traveling second cabin, although they should not feel they had to. There was, as it turned out, little danger of their feeling any such pressure. Instead, Holmes and Watson tried to argue Mrs. Hudson into accepting more luxurious accommodations, only to fail as they had failed many times before in encouraging Mrs. Hudson to, as she described it, “throw money around.” It was agreed finally Watson would purchase tickets for the cabin assignments each preferred.
Watson also made arrangements for their stay at the newly opened Waldorf Hotel. He took the precaution of keeping from her both its cost, and its description as “the natural abode of fashion and wealth.” He reserved connecting rooms for himself and Holmes, thinking to make it easy to share a pipe with his friend at the end of the day. He reserved a parlor suite for Mrs. Hudson, informing her it was the only accommodation remaining. He was certain Mrs. Hudson saw through his small lie, but chose to say nothing about the modest bit of luxury he insisted foisting on her.
Holmes and Watson purchased luggage appropriate to their travel: a steamer trunk to make certain of room for clothes, toiletries and Holmes’ disguises “for whatever contingency might arise,” and two large Gladstone bags, the one to supplement the portmanteau Watson would be carrying, the other to substitute for Mrs. Hudson’s brightly flowered carpetbag if she proved amenable to an exchange. The two men believed they already possessed clothing appropriate to an ocean voyage and their stay in New York, and set about trying to convince Mrs. Hudson she did not. She yielded finally to an argument that the widow’s weeds she wore daily might not set a desirable tone for the wedding.
Having agreed to the need for a change in outfits, Mrs. Hudson made her selections from the shelves of ready-made dresses, a convenience unknown thirteen years earlier when Mrs. Hudson last added to her wardrobe. She selected traveling suits of russet brown and turquoise blue, and two silk dresses, one purple with a plain skirt and the other olive green with a flounced skirt, both of them high-necked and floor length. Mrs. Hudson decided her blue-ribboned hat would be adequate for her travels, and her rather drab shoes would be hidden from view and didn’t need replacing. She decided, as well, the additions to her wardrobe and the prospect of a transatlantic voyage required explanation to Tobias.
She had been Tobias’ wife for 29 years and his widow for twelve. And throughout the twelve she had visited his grave in St. Marylebone cemetery once a fortnight to share her news and describe the challenges brought to 221B Baker Street. She was convinced the success of that agency was his doing, and she reminded him of it at each visit. She had called him her “uncommon common constable,” as every night after clearing the dinner dishes, she and Tobias would select a crime report from the Evening Standard , and together the two of them would puzzle out what was known, identify what still needed to be determined, and develop strategies that would lead to revealing the individual or individuals responsible for the crime. He would bring to bear his years of experience with the Metropolitan Police, she would share ideas developed from study in the Reading Room of the British Museum. Murders were their particular interest, and she taught herself about poisons, falls, stabbings and shootings. She learned from Tobias what to search out at crime scenes, and how to interrogate witnesses and suspects. All the while she honed skills in observation at the greengrocer, on the horse car, or simply while out for a walk. She catalogued facial expression, hands, walk, dress and carriage; then calculated how they all came together to reveal a person’s history and character.
After the terrible shock of Tobias’ death, she decided there could be only one fitting testament to his memory, and only one initiative capable of filling the days and hours without him. She would organize a consulting detective agency that would p