Mrs. Hudson Takes the Stage

S Brown Barry

Description

September, 1901. Fresh from a run of more than 260 performances in New York, the play, Sherlock Holmes, opens at London's Lyceum Theater. In attendance are Mrs. Hudson, Dr. Watson and Holmes, the renowned detective attending in disguise, concerned that he is somewhat too renowned and thereby likely to be pestered for his opinion about a play he is determined to detest. As it turns out, his fears are unfounded. There is no opportunity to criticize, or even witness the play. Before the curtain goes up, Holmes will be called backstage to investigate the murder of the play's wardrobe mistress. As always, the figurehead of the Baker Street trio is mistaken for its true leader. Not to fear, Mrs. Hudson is on the case. She and her colleagues will have to sort through a range of suspects, including actors seeking more than cleaned and pressed costumes from the young woman, a landlord upset about the woman minding his questionable business, and members of the anarchist movement suspicious about her professed allegiance to their cause. In the course of the investigation, Mrs. Hudson will receive assistance from the author of the play's first draft, Dr. Arthur Conan Doyle, and will provide assistance to the juvenile actor playing the role of pageboy, Master Charles Chaplin.

Informations

• Publié par: Andrews UK
• Date de parution: 14 avril 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781787055223
• Langue: English

Extrait

Mrs. Hudson
Takes the Stage
by
Barry S Brown

Copyright © 2020 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.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Except for certain historical personages, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any opinions expressed herein are those of the authors and do not necessarily represent those of any other party.
Published by MX Publishing
335 Princess Park Manor, Royal Drive,
London, N11 3GX
www.mxpublishing.com
Cover design by Brian Belanger




Praise for earlier accounts of Mrs. Hudson’s achievements:
“Each new book surpasses the others . . . Some enterprising TV producer is missing out on a potentially great TV mystery series!”
Over My Dead Body! Mystery Magazine
“It is always a pleasure to recommend a Sherlock Holmes novel that retains reader’s interest to the very end. This one did.”
Sherlockian.net
“. . . a gloriously complex and improbable scenario . . . an entertaining romp . . . Mrs. Hudson’s a likeable character and disconcertingly credible.”
The District Messenger , Newsletter of the Sherlockian Society of London
“. . . imaginative plotting . . .”
Scuttlebutt , a Sherlockian newsletter
“. . . an inherently entertaining and fascinating read from beginning to end . . . an enduringly popular addition to community library Mystery/ Suspense collections . . .”
Midwest Book Review
“The pace is brisk and not without humor . . . Brown can impersonate Victorian humor in a style that would make W.S. Gilbert envious.”
Wilmington Star-News



Disclaimer
While a work of fiction, my book includes a number of real people inserted into imagined situations. None have objected to inclusion. It should be acknowledged, however, that their capacity to object has been hampered by death. Nonetheless, it should be especially noted that liberties are taken with the career of Charlie Chaplin and the age at which he joined the London company of Sherlock Holmes , the play.



Dedication
Tom Campbell and the members of the Sherlock Holmes Society of the Cape Fear



Chapter 1. Sherlock Holmes Meets His Namesake
“Holmes, if we’re to make the curtain you’ll need to get a move on.” Watson stood at the door, dividing his attention between his pocket watch and the empty place at the top of the stairs. Mrs. Hudson waited beside Watson, a mask of calm imperfectly hiding the impatience she shared with her lodger.
A cheery voice called out from somewhere beyond the empty place. “We’ll be there in good time, Watson. The carriage is waiting, is it not?”
In the next moment, the voice’s owner descended the seventeen steps and joined his anxiously waiting colleagues. But the apparition before them was not the Holmes they expected. This Holmes had curly brown hair and sideburns, bushy eyebrows and still bushier moustaches, a slightly bulbous nose, and rectangular rimless glasses. All that would normally have been sufficient to capture their attention, but their eyes were fixed on the round white collar carefully fitted above a dark blouse.
Holmes chose to ignore the widened eyes and open mouths attending his transformation and focused instead on the dress of one of his companions.
“I believe that’s a new outfit, is it not, Mrs. Hudson? What color would you call it? If I may say so, it’s very becoming.”
“It’s called teal, Mr. ’Olmes. And you’ve seen it before.”
“Well, I hope I took proper note of it then as well.” Holmes affected an engaging smile as he prepared to leave.
Watson, however, was not about to go until he received an explanation for Holmes’s disguise. “Holmes, why in the world are you dressed as a man of the cloth?”
Holmes arranged the cape over his shoulders and removed his walking stick from the stand by the door before responding to his friend’s question. “You will recall, Watson, I had no wish to be a part of this evening’s activity. Against what I am certain is my better judgment, I let you and Mrs. Hudson prevail upon me to accept the invitation of this Gillette person to attend the opening of his play—a play he has the effrontery to title, Sherlock Holmes— in which he will doubtless describe some of my little successes with an excess of drama and a dearth of accuracy. As I understand it, having placed himself in the lead role—which is to say to pretend to be me, he—or I—proceed to capture Moriarty, in the process saving a damsel in distress with whom I proceed to become romantically involved. Instead of attending this farce, I should be taking the man to court.
“In any event, I have no intention of placing myself in the position of having strangers accost me for my opinion of the play, wanting to know if I’m satisfied with Gillette’s portrayal of me, and how I really feel about the woman I plan to marry. No, Watson, I will fulfill my promise to you and Mrs. Hudson, and put myself through what I’m certain will be a thoroughly disagreeable evening, but I will only do so sufficiently camouflaged to guarantee that I will not have to choose between lying about the play and offending my own sensibilities, or telling the truth and offending the sensibilities of everyone else. Instead, I will attend the play as Father Bottomley, whose opinion is unlikely to be of interest to anyone.”
Having again become sensitive to the time, Watson adjusted the angle of his soft homburg before opening the door to the street. “We can continue this conversation in the carriage, Holmes, but I can tell you that from all I’ve heard about Mr. Gillette and his play, it can only enhance your reputation. I would never have urged your attendance if I thought otherwise.” That said, Watson led the way toward the waiting coach without looking back to the man pretending to be nothing other than a cleric or the woman pretending to be nothing other than a landlady.
After directing the coachman to take them to the Lyceum Theater and allowing a silence he deemed sufficient to make clear his displeasure, Watson restated the argument he had first expounded a week earlier in gaining Holmes’s agreement to attend the theater. It was, in fact, an argument he had reprised several times in the course of the week on the several occasions Holmes threatened to withdraw his consent, most recently that morning in the course of a contentious breakfast.
“The play ran for two years in New York, and touring companies are even now putting on performances all over America. People who never before heard of Sherlock Holmes now know him as the world’s foremost detective.” With Holmes securely imprisoned in the carriage, Watson allowed himself a mischievous smile, and added an element to his argument he had been loath to raise earlier. “And, of course, Sherlock Holmes is now revealed as the dashing, romantic figure heretofore known only to a very few of us.”
Holmes’s response was heard over the giggles of his fellow passengers.
“I will ignore your last statement, Watson, as undeserving of a response. As for the notoriety you suggest, you, above all people, are aware I seek no special recognition and value most the solitary time I spend with my test tubes, beakers and flasks. And besides, I am not unmindful of the role others play in resolving the problems brought to our consulting detective agency.”
At the last, Watson gave Mrs. Hudson a broad wink, which she pretended not to see, and Holmes chose to ignore.
“Nonetheless,” Holmes continued, “I do remain the recognizable member of our group, as we all agreed would be the case when we formed our partnership.”
It was, Mrs. Hudson would have had to grant, an accurate statement about the origin of the consulting detective agency at 221B Baker Street.
She well remembered placing the ad in the Standard and the Times— “rooms to let, good location, applicants should possess an inquiring mind and curiosity about human behavior.” In exchange for food and lodging, she would acquire the legmen and the figurehead needed for the consulting detective agency she was determined to found. With his Cambridge diction and show of haughty self-confidence, Holmes was perfect as that figurehead, His was the face to the public she needed to gain acceptance—the male presence required by any woman who fancied herself an entrepreneur in Victorian England, especially a woman of some years with an unyielding Cockney accent. Now, with nearly two decades and innumerable successes behind them, her creation had been immortalized in a play. The success of her carefully maintained charade was reflected in the absence of a Mrs. Hudson character from the cast of that play, and the portrayal of a fictional Sherlock Holmes as the crime-fighting sage of Baker Street, thereby allowing art to imitate art.
When the carriage driver pulled to a stop at the Lyceum Theater, Holmes exited on the street side while his companions exited curbside. Before stepping down, Holmes issued the same caution he had delivered before entering the carriage. For the remainder of the evening he was to