Free Sherlock Holmes Stories of Edward D. Hoch by Edward D. Hoch Page A

Christmas Day and perhaps she was only being hospitable.
    While she escorted Dodgson downstairs, I whispered to Holmes, “What’s this about Moriarty? You spoke of him earlier this year in connection with the Valley of Fear affair.”
    “I did indeed, Watson. If he is Dodgson’s blackmailer, I welcome the opportunity to challenge him once again.”
    We said nothing of our visitor’s problems during dinner. Mrs. Hudson entertained him with accounts of her young nieces and their occasional visits to Baker Street.
    “I read to them often,” she said, gesturing toward a small shelf of children’s books she maintained for such occasions. “All children should be exposed to good books.”
    “I couldn’t agree more,” Dodgson replied.
    As we were finishing our mince pie, and Mrs. Hudson was busy clearing the table, Holmes returned to the subject that had brought Dodgson to us.
    “If you and Professor Moriarty were casual friends, what caused this recent enmity between you?”
    “It was the book, I suppose. Moriarty’s most celebrated volume of pure mathematics is The Dynamics of an Asteroid. When I followed it with my own somewhat humorous effort, The Dynamics of a Particle, he believed the satire was aimed at him. I tried to explain that it dealt with an Oxford subject, a contest between Gladstone and Gathorne Hardy, but he would have none of it. From then on, he seemed to be seeking ways to destroy me.”
    Holmes finished the last of his pie.
    “Excellent, Mrs. Hudson! Excellent. Your cooking is a delight!”
    “Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”
    She retreated to the kitchen while he took out his pipe but did not light it.
    “Tell me about the cryptic message you alluded to earlier.”
    “I can do better than that.”
    He reached into his pocket and produced a folded piece of paper.
    “This is what the beggar gave me. When I tried to stop him, he knocked me down and escaped.”
    Holmes read the message twice before passing the paper to me.
    On Benjamin Caunt’s Day,
    Beneath His Lofty Face,
    A Ransom You Must Pay,
    To Cancel Your Disgrace.
    Come By There At One,
    On Mad Hatter’s Clock,
    The Old Lady’s Done,
    And Gone Neath the Block.
    “It makes no sense, Holmes,” was my initial reaction. “It’s just some childish verse, and not a very good one.”
    “I can make nothing of it,” Dodgson admitted. “Who is Benjamin Ca…Caunt?”
    “He was a prize fighter,” Holmes remarked. “I remember hearing my father speak of him.”
    He puzzled over the message.
    “From what I know of Moriarty, it would be in character for him to reveal everything in this verse, and challenge us to decipher it.”
    “What of Caunt’s lofty face?” I asked.
    “It could be a statue or a portrait in a high place. His day could be the day of his birth, or some special triumph, or perhaps the day of his death? I have nothing about the man in my files upstairs, and it will be two days before the libraries are open.”
    “And what is this about the Mad Hatter?” I inquired.
    Mrs. Hudson had returned from the kitchen at that moment and heard my question.
    “My niece prefers the March Hare, Mr. Dodgson,” she told him. “But, then, little girls usually like soft, furry animals.”
    She walked over to the little bookshelf and took out a slender volume.
    “See? Here is my copy of your book. I have the other one, too.”
    She held a copy of Alice in Wonderland.
    Holmes put a hand to his forehead, as if pained by his failure. “My mind must be elsewhere today. Of course! You are the author of Alice and Through the Looking Glass under the pseudonym of Lewis Carroll!”
    Charles Dodgson smiled slightly. “It seems to be an open secret, though it is something I neither confirm or deny.”
    “This puts a whole new light on the affair,” said Holmes, laying down his pipe and turning to Mrs. Hudson. “Thank you for refreshing my memory.”
    He looked again at the message.
    I puzzled over it myself before turning once again to our