Holmes & the Blackmailer Ch. 01

Sherlock Holmes and the Hooded Blackmailer.

Part 1.

I have had the pleasure and honour of documenting several investigations carried out by my friend Mr Sherlock Holmes and the publication of these accounts has led to him becoming somewhat of a household name. I have on occasion however had need to suppress certain cases and hold their publication for some considerable time for reasons of tact, delicacy and the wish not to cause scandal to some of the most important and influential families of the realm. There are a number of cases however which, although I feel they merit documentation to highlight the excellent deductive work that my friend employed to bring about their most excellent conclusions, I feel will never be published due to the quite explicit nature of the commentaries. My friend was adamant that they be documented however, as examples to future students of the criminological sciences, and I have agreed to do so on the express understanding that they shall be immediately handed over to the official record keeper of Scotland Yard and sealed for at least 100 years so that there shall be no danger of causing untoward distress to those gentlewomen embroiled in these most shocking cases. My friend agreed to these terms.

The first of these cases took place in the year 1894 and should the details of the case have been made public then or now a scandal the like of which has yet to be experienced would sweep the country. It was a wintry November day and I was visiting Sherlock Holmes in the apartment that we had shared in Baker Street. He had risen late after some nocturnal adventure and was finishing a late breakfast that Mrs Hudson had prepared when I arrived so I had taken the offer of a fresh cup of tea and a toasted muffin eagerly. He was in an aloof state of mind and I recognised that whatever case he was working on was not going to his liking. He was not in the mood to discuss this however and our conversation, sparse as it was, mainly centred on a play which my wife and I had attended a few nights previously. Holmes had also seen the play and we were discussing the merits of the lead actor when a ring at the bell preceded Mrs Hudson showing in a young lady who was looking most distracted. Her card identified her as Miss Emily Torrington and my friend waved her to a seat which she accepted with a polite nod of the head. Mrs Hudson cleared the breakfast things from the table and, when she had gone, Holmes addressed our visitor.

‘Miss Torrington, pray tell me what brings you to me.’

I watched as the young lady, exceedingly handsome with what appeared to be long dark hair tied up at the back and expensively dressed in a purple dress of the latest fashion, flushed at the cheek.

‘It is a matter of the most exceeding delicacy Mr Holmes.’ She glanced in my direction.

‘Miss Torrington, this Dr Watson, my most trusted friend. Anything you say to me can be said in front of him, he has my implicit confidence.’

Miss Torrington nodded slowly but despite opening her mouth, did not speak for several seconds. I saw the shine of tears forming in her eyes and then she plucked a clean lace handkerchief from her back and dissolved into the most passionate sobbing. There was the merest quiver of impatience at the corner of my friend’s mouth before I leapt over to Miss Torrington and offered her a pull from my Brandy flask. She accepted gratefully and the spirit appeared to calm her nerves slightly but she kept the handkerchief in her hand.

‘Miss Torrington, while you compose yourself let me begin by telling Watson what I already know of you. Miss Torrington here is engaged to be married to Lord Peter Warburton, the first son of the Minister for Colonial Trade to her Majesties Government. The wedding is to take place at St. Hectors on Saturday and the guest list alone marks it out as one of the society events of the year. Miss Torrington should be one of the happiest women in London on this dreary Tuesday morning but as you and I have just witnessed, this is obviously not the case. Perhaps you are now able to tell us why Miss Torrington.’

The young lady took a deep breath and seemed to straighten herself in her chair before she replied.

‘Everything you have said is correct Mr Holmes except that I fear that there will be no great society wedding on Saturday for I find myself at the mercy of a most heinous and ungentlemanly blackmailer. It all began on Sunday night when I received a note from Peter asking me to meet him at a place where we have often met in the past. It is under a particular tree in the great park. It simply said ‘Meet me at our tree’ and was unsigned but on the paper that bears his family crest. I went at the usual time and, I am ashamed to say that I went alone as was our custom but we are so soon to be married Mr Holmes that I beg that you do not look too harshly on our indiscretion.’

My friend signalled his lack of interest in her indiscretion with a wave of his long fingered hand. Miss Torrington paused before continuing.

‘Peter did not arrive at the usual time which is unusual for he is always very punctual. I was about to leave again when I heard a sound behind me. I turned and got a very quick glimpse of a man wearing a black silken hood before he clasped a pad over my nose and mouth and I passed out. When I came to I found myself in a four-wheeler cab and I was nearing the home of my aunt, with whom I am staying at the present before my Father arrives from India for the wedding. Despite regaining consciousness I was feeling rather disorientated and giddy.’

‘Chloroform!’ I said, horrified at the enfolding tale ‘It can often leave you with those symptoms.’

‘Quite so Watson, Miss Torrington, please continue.’

‘I was astounded to discover that it was nearly a quarter past eleven when I entered the house and I had to knock a number of times before Jamieson, the boot boy, unlocked the front door to let me in. I found that my maid, Patricia, had gone to bed and, still feeling a little confused, and not wanting to wake her, I took myself to my room. As I prepared myself for bed however I was shaken from my stupor when I found a note . . . secreted about my person.’

‘May I see the note?’ said my friend, reaching out his hand. Miss Torrington looked as if she was once more on the verge of tears but, exercising admirable self-control for such a delicate and fine young lady, she pulled herself together and retrieved a small folded note from her bag and handed it to Holmes. He opened the folds and read the note silently then aloud to me. The note said simply ‘Say nothing now but, for your own sake, be sure to open the message for you to be delivered tomorrow morning yourself.’

Holmes pulled out a small magnifying lens from his waistcoat pocket and made a very close examination of the note then, replacing the lens, he raised the note to his long nose and inhaled twice, deeply, half closing his eyes. I could not be certain but I was sure that Miss Torrington flinched as he did so.

‘Tell me about the message the next morning.’

‘It was delivered by a private messenger, I have it here.’ Miss Torrington pulled an envelope from her bag and handed it to Holmes who removed the note from inside after carefully examining the handwritten address. He read the note to me aloud: ‘You will pay me £8000 before Saturday or your wedding will not take place.’

‘Was there nothing with the note Miss Torrington.?’ My friend asked.

Miss Torrington hesitated before replying in the negative.

‘Miss Torrington, I fear you are lying, and quite understandably so’ Holmes held up a silencing hand as I started to protest at his impertinence at denying the word of a lady, ’however, if we are to get to the facts of the case and ensure that the wedding proceeds as planned I must insist on absolute honesty and disclosure.’

Miss Torrington’s face reddened again and her eyes began to moisten once more.

‘Let me start by telling you the facts that I have deduced so far,’ my friend said as he stood from his chair and moved to the mantle to fill his pipe, ‘Miss Torrington, before you came here today, you were not dressed by your maid as you normally are, instead you dressed yourself.’

A look of stunned surprise showed on our visitor’s tear streaked face. Holmes indicated Miss Torrington’s boots with the mouthpiece of his pipe. They were fashionably high, with a large number of lace holes running up the front.

‘A number of the lace holes have been missed, indicating that they were fastened by someone not accustomed to lacing the boots. No lady’s maid worth her pay cannot lace a boot. I also notice that you are not wearing any form of bodice or corsetry . . .’

‘Holmes!’ I protested as Miss Torrington moved her hands in front of her in a protective fashion, but he continued unchecked.

‘Your dress is cut without boning and relies on undergarments to provide shape but, despite your trim figure Miss Torrington, the boned support is not there. The original note that you gave me, you stated that it was secreted about your person but the ink was slightly blurred from moisture damage and it held the unmistakable intimate scent of a woman, I therefore suggest that it was actually secreted inside your body, namely, inside your vagina Miss Torrington.’

I was so outraged and shocked that I could not raise a single word of protest but this was increased twofold when Miss Torrington merely nodded her affirmation that Holmes was correct.

‘Furthermore, there is a small rip in the note which was made by a metallic object. This coupled with your lack of undergarments and the photograph which had originally accompanied the second note . . . ‘

‘What photograph?’

‘I wish you wouldn’t interrupt me so Watson, but you see, the note, when originally folded, was somewhat smaller that the envelope in which it was delivered, which suggested to me that there was another enclosure and in increasing numbers of blackmail cases these days, that enclosure is some sort of incriminating photographic reproduction. Now if I may continue, the aforementioned facts would lead me to believe that while you were unconscious you have had a number of metallic objects inserted in intimate parts of your body.’

My jaw fell open as I was rendered speechless once again. Miss Torrington’s flushing cheeks were once again dampened by tears as she reached into her bag and pulled out a photograph which she passed to Holmes. He studied it closely with his lens which made Miss Torrington squirm once more and then looked at her kindly, but sternly.

‘This is indeed one of the most distressing cases that has been laid before me Miss Torrington and I shall use all of my considerable faculties to endeavour to bring the heinous culprit to justice, but before the clouds that cover your impending happiness lift, I am afraid that things may get even more distressing. Watson, will you pull down the window blinds and pull across the bolt on the door, Miss Torrington, I am afraid that I am going to have to examine these mutilations that have occurred as the photograph does not show enough detail for me to ascertain some very important facts.’

‘Surely you cannot be serious Holmes?’ I said reproachfully.

‘I have never been more serious Watson, Miss Torrington; I agree that this may prove most disagreeable to you but there is simply no other way to proceed I am afraid. Watson, the blinds please.’

I pulled down the blinds and closed the bolt on the door so that we shouldn’t be disturbed. Miss Torrington stood and looked at Holmes and I and then nodded and started to undo the buttons that ran down the front of her dress. Holmes looked intently at her chest as she did so, his hands steepled in front of his lips. As a Doctor I had seen patients in a state of undress before but the whole story and surroundings made the spectacle of such an obviously well educated young lady removing her clothing here, in Holmes’ sitting room, very sordid.

As Miss Torrington undid more of the buttons of her dress she started to reveal the perfect alabaster white skin of her chest and stomach. When she had undone all of the buttons, which went down to just below her navel, she hesitated. A strip of the milky white skin was now visible but her breasts were still hidden from view. She looked at Holmes once more, almost pleading.

‘Miss Torrington, I would, of course, not ask you to do such a thing if it were not of the utmost importance to the investigation.’

Miss Torrington hesitated a few seconds longer. It is shameful to admit but, having been tempted by a glimpse of her perfect torso and small navel, I was starting to find myself becoming aroused and had to shift position in my chair so as not to embarrass myself or Miss Torrington. With a resigned shrug she pulled the two halves of the top of her dress away and let the garment fall to the floor around her feet. I must admit that I gasped at the vision that stood before me. Miss Torrington was, and once more I emphasise that I insist that these documents will be sealed for the period of 100 years and will never be seen by my most lovely and devoted wife, the most beautiful woman I have ever had the fortune to lay eyes on. Her skin was so milky white that it seemed to shine with an internal radiance in the dimly lit room and as she stood mere feet from my sea,t completely nude but for her mis-laced boots, I could no longer prevent myself from having a strong erection.

Holmes, in an astonishingly professional manner, asked Miss Torrington to step out of her dress and picked up the garment, placing it carefully over the back of her now vacant chair and then pulled his own chair to within a foot of her so that his face was dangerously close to her abdomen then, in an act of inspection that made me, a professional Doctor of medicine, wince, pulled out his lens and proceeded with a very close examination of Miss Torrington’s body.

‘Watson, you must come and look at this!’ he cried.

‘I, ah, I would prefer to sit here if it’s all the same to you.’

‘That you have an erection, ‘he said in a most disarmingly matter of fact manner, ‘is not to be unexpected, Miss Torrington is a most exquisite beauty and I would worry for your humanity if you were not aroused but I require your professional opinion on these piercings.’

I stood and made my way uncomfortably over to where Holmes was making a minute inspection of a silver bar which had been fastened through Miss Torrington’s right nipple. There was a similar bar through her left nipple. Miss Torrington had medium sized breasts which stood proud of her ribcage despite the lack of any support. Attached to each bar was a fine silver chain which ran down across her abdomen and disappeared between her legs. Both chains were held very taught.

‘It is these chains which prevent you from wearing any undergarments Miss Torrington?’ asked Holmes as he examined one of the silver lengths.

‘Ah . . . yes,’ she replied hesitantly, ‘I tried to put on a corset but it pulled on the chains which is most painful.’

Holmes brushed his hand across one of the chains and Miss Torrington curled slightly and whimpered.

‘My apologies Miss Torrington, now if I could ask you to sit back down and, I’m afraid, open your legs.’

Miss Torrington was obviously becoming dulled to the shame of the examination and retook her seat and opened her legs. Holmes leant in so that his head was actually between Miss Torrington’s thighs.

‘I am afraid that I am going to have to touch you intimately.’ He said and then, while holding his lens in his right hand, he moved his left hand between her legs. She jolted slightly at his first touch and closed her eyes. He looked closely at her for a few seconds and then sat up, not moving his left hand.

‘It’s extraordinary Watson, look!’

I glanced at Miss Torrington’s face, but her eyes were still closed and so I bent in to look. Her whole pubic area was smoothly shaven, as good a job as the best gentleman’s barber could have done and I gasped as I saw that the two chains were attached to two silver rings, one fitted through each labium, which Holmes was holding open with two fingers of his left hand. Furthermore, the two rings were connected with an intricate knot of connecting metallic rings which fell across her vaginal opening.

‘Watson, I need to make a quick sketch of the device, if you please.’ He nodded towards his left hand.

‘You can’t mean . .!’

‘Quickly Watson, we do not wish to prolong Miss Torrington’s embarrassment any longer than is necessary.’

He withdrew his hand and reached for his notebook. I hesitantly and, with all the medical detachment I could muster, gently opened the outer folds of Miss Torrington’s vagina. My memory may have been corrupted by the swirl of emotions running though me at the time but I could have sworn that a shudder of pleasure ran through her body as I did so and the gasp that escaped her slightly parted lips was less shocked than originally so. I watched as Holmes quickly drew a most accurate sketch of the small knot of intimate rings and then he closed his notebook, fastened it with an India rubber band and addressed Miss Torrington once more.

‘I must ask if your genitalia are habitually shaven Miss Torrington.’

‘Absolutely not Mr Holmes,’ she replied opening her eyes as she did so.

‘And you say that you found the note when you undressed for bed. Had you not felt these adornments before that?’

‘No, they were numbed, I presume by some surgical chemical. They were very sore the next morning and are still very tender now.’

As she said this I realised that I had not removed my fingers from her vagina and did so quickly, causing the rings to jangle quietly as they were once more enfolded into her warm softness.

‘There is one more onerous task which I am afraid I must perform before I can allow you to redress Miss Torrington, please excuse me.’

As I watched dumbfounded Holmes straightened the long middle finger of his left hand and, without ceremony, inserted its full length into Miss Torrington. She straightened suddenly in her chair, closing her eyes and opening her mouth as her head tilted back slightly. Holmes left his finger inside her for a few long seconds and then withdrew it as sharply as he had put it in and proceeded, to my horror, to smell his finger carefully. He than sat back in his chair. Miss Torrington, to my relief, did not open her eyes until he had completed his nasal examination of his finger, and when she did so Holmes looked her straight in the eyes.

‘This is indeed a singularly exotic and distressing case Miss Torrington but have no fear, there are some chinks of light in the shroud that enfolds you. The first is that, while unconscious, you were not robbed of your virtue, there is no trace of any seminal fluid in your vagina.’

Miss Torrington’s beautiful face at once showed both embarrassment at Holmes’ candour and relief at his message.

‘Secondly there are a number of aspects to this case that should prove that it is simple to clear up.’

He stood from his chair sharply, raising his left hand to his mouth in apparent thought, and turned his back on the naked young women sat in the chair.

‘Dress yourself Miss Torrington and go to your aunt’s. Complain of a headache and retire to your room alone, but confide in your maid that you expect a love letter from your fiancé and that any messages or telegrams addressed to you should be brought, unopened to your room. I shall start work on the matter at once and will send for you when it is necessary.’

Miss Torrington rose and turned to retrieve her dress affording me a view of her beautiful behind which I had hitherto not seen. It was as flawless and exquisite as the rest of her body and as she bent to step into her dress my trouser front tightened even more. I sat down to disguise my discomfort as, with her back turned, she refastened the buttons. When she was again decent she turned back to face Holmes. He was standing by the mantelpiece and was holding the photograph in his right hand.