Dr. Watson And The Case Of The Crazy Composer
HOLMES AND I sat in the morning sun that came shining through the window. Holmes sat lost in thought, thinking about his newest cases, and I was reading the various headlines of the morning paper. Out of the blue Holmes remarked:
"Watson, let us suppose that you would like to disappear. How would you go about it?"
"Easy enough", I replied, "Just take the first flight to a sunny beach somewhere. Or maybe a boat, and I would sail around the world. Or hitchhiking, as a true adventurer. I could do it too, you know. Now that my wife left me I have nothing to keep me here, safe for my practice and this new hobby of solving mysteries."
"It is good to hear you like solving the mysteries, for another is on our way. Miss Uspicious, the famous modern composer, has disappeared. Now, disappearing is not so difficult. But what if you want your loved one to be able to find you. That, dear Watson, is the real question here. Hopefully we will get an answer soon, as we can hear your client coming up the stairs."
In came a handsome young man, dressed to perfection in the latest fashions. Panic and exasperation were clearly written in his eyes.
"Dear Mr. Holmes, please help me. My name is Marius, and I am the one who wrote you a telegram earlier this morning. The love of my life has disappeared.
You see, she is extremely paranoid about other musicians stealing her work. I am sure she went off somewhere to finish her latest work. I was belated by work and so could not join her immediately. She has not told me where she went, but I was sure she would tell me on a note left at home. I searched everything, I swear, but no note or anything. Please help me Mr. Holmes."
"My assistant Watson will go with you and find out all there is to be discovered. I have another case currently, and am unable to free my time sufficiently.
You will find you can trust Watson like you can trust me, and that his eyes and his mind are as sharp as mine are. You are in good hands, good sir."
I felt my cheeks blush and my temperature rise at the praising words of Holmes. But now there was even more pressure to solve the case.
Before I left, Holmes pulled me close and whispered in my ear: "Do tell me the city that the composer has fled to. The information is impartial to me too. Just the city will do."
With these words still echoing in my mind, I traveled with the heart-broken man into the central London apartment of Miss Uspicious.