Free The Adventure of the Manufactured Miracle (The Midwinter Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes Book 1) by Craig Janacek Page B

inform me that I was not allowed to converse with Benjamin, as he was being referred to the Assizes on charges of murder! I was so flabbergasted that I hardly knew what to do. The man then chuckled and remarked that not even Sherlock Holmes could save Benjamin from the dock. That is when I recalled the wonderful stories that I have read in Beeton’s Christmas Annual [8] and the Strand Magazine. [9] I knew that my only hope lay with you.”
    When she had concluded her tale, Holmes leaned back in his seat and rubbed his hands in eager anticipation. “Excellent!” he exclaimed, smiling. “I have only one question for you, Mrs. Lowe. Where do you live?”
    Our client was clearly mystified by this seemingly irrelevant question. “We live at Bedford Place, [10] Mr. Holmes, but I hardly see how that matters.”
    He waved her objections off. “I have my methods, I assure you.” He smiled again.  “Sounds like our friend Lestrade is already on the case, eh Watson?” said he, glancing in my direction. “It’s not much to go on, of course. We don’t even know who is dead, or why Dr. Lowe has been accused, but its ten-to-one odds that if Lestrade thinks he has his man, his aim may be far from the mark. What say you, Watson, are you up for a walk to see if we can clear a fellow medico?”
    “Certainly!”
    “Oh, thank you, sir!” cried out Mrs. Lowe. “I can pay you whatever you desire, if you only free my husband.”
    Holmes shook his head. “My professional charges are upon a fixed scale. I do not vary them, save when I remit them altogether. But pray tell, Mrs. Lowe, do you fear that your husband has been singled out because of your particular faith?”
    Her eyes widened in astonishment. “I made no mention of our faith,” replied the lady with a furrowed brow and a slight shake of her head. She glanced over at me, but I was equally mystified as to Holmes’ meaning.
    “Well, Watson, have you noted the signs?”
    “No, I see nothing.”
    “On the contrary, you have seen and heard all that I have, but have failed to reason from what your senses tell you.” He shook his head in dismay, and then turned back to his client. “First, there are your names. Rebecca and Benjamin are not common English given names. However, as in the case of our late former Prime Minister, Mr. Disraeli, [11] they are common amongst ethnic Hebrews.”
    “Ah!” I interjected. “Then Lowe is an Anglicized name, from Loew perhaps, like the Rabbi of Golem fame?” [12]
    Holmes smiled. “Very good, Watson, you are catching on. Yes, a simple inversion takes a Hebrew name and converts it to a solid English one.”
    Mrs. Lowe frowned. “That is a fine guess, Mr. Holmes.”
    Holmes shook his head violently. “I never guess, madam. I make inferences from the clues presented to me. For example, unlike every other person that I have passed on the streets, you neglected to wish me a ‘Happy Christmas.’ Perhaps this could be forgiven in your anxiety, however, even in your recitation of the facts, you made no mention of desiring to have your husband home in time for the upcoming holiday. Hence, I concluded that the date of 25 December has little importance to you, which makes sense only if you practice a religion whose holy-days have already passed. And finally, there is the matter of your necklace.”
    Upon these words, her hands flew to a small silver star dangling from a silver chain about her neck. “The sign of the six-pointed star is clear,” Holmes continued. “However, most of your people fail to wear it openly, fearing prejudice. I presume in your haste this morning, you neglected to tuck it beneath your dress as you normally would?”
    She nodded grimly. “That is so. And does this finding change your decision to help me?”
    Holmes waved his hand as if shooing away a pesky fly. “Of course not. I care not a farthing for a man’s ethnicity or faith. My only motivation is to ensure that justice has been served. The practices of