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mariana-oconnor · 8 months

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The Missing Three Quarter pt 2

Back to the rugby players.

It argues the degree in which I had lost touch with my profession that the name of Leslie Armstrong was unknown to me.

I told you Watson had forgotten all his medical knowledge. In the last story he didn't even prescribe brandy. smh

Yet even without knowing his brilliant record one could not fail to be impressed by a mere glance at the man, the square, massive face, the brooding eyes under the thatched brows, and the granite moulding of the inflexible jaw. A man of deep character, a man with an alert mind, grim, ascetic, self-contained, formidable—so I read Dr. Leslie Armstrong.

Obligatory reblog of Watson's horny descriptions. He's having a moment.

“I have heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I am aware of your profession, one of which I by no means approve.”

Sorry, Watson. Looks can be deceiving. Obviously we must immediately hate him for this point of view. It is demanded.

"At the present moment, for example, I should be writing a treatise instead of conversing with you.”

Oh fuck you and your self-important nonsense. A guy is missing. You're either a pompous arsehole or you're involved. Yeah, yeah. You're renowned throughout Europe.

“He is an intimate friend of mine.” “You are aware that he has disappeared?” “Ah, indeed!” There was no change of expression in the rugged features of the doctor.

Yeah, he knows something. Look, this guy is terrible. He's just the worst. I hate him. Godfrey has some terrible friends and a terrible relative. I hope he's run off somewhere with someone who appreciates him and cares about his interests and his well-being.

A pompous butler ushered us severely to the door, and we found ourselves in the street. Holmes burst out laughing.

I agree, he is ridiculous. Also how pompous must the butler be to be described as pompous after meeting that man?

“It's been out three hours,” said Holmes; “started at half-past six, and here it is back again. That gives a radius of ten or twelve miles, and he does it once, or sometimes twice, a day.” “No unusual thing for a doctor in practice.”

Watson, let's face it, you don't know what's usual for a doctor in practice. Your carriage went out in the middle of the night and didn't return for a week. You are an anomaly and should not be counted.

"I do not know whether it came from his own innate depravity or from the promptings of his master, but he was rude enough to set a dog at me. Neither dog nor man liked the look of my stick, however, and the matter fell through. Relations were strained after that..."

Were they? How unexpected. I've made all my best friends after they've threatened to set a dog on me and I've threatened to beat them with a stick. If you can't be friends after that, how do you even make friends at all?

"...but, now that I find he keeps so keen a look-out upon anyone who may follow him on these excursions, the affair appears more important, and I shall not be satisfied until I have made the matter clear.”

Doctor Armstrong is really bad at dealing with this all. I know Holmes has made admiring comments a few times, but really the man should have shown some concern over his 'intimate friend' going missing, and he shouldn't have piqued Holmes' interest about his carriage ride. He should have just gone someone entirely mundane that it would be completely reasonable for him to go multiple times a day, and left it at that.

"You are not familiar with Cambridgeshire scenery, are you? It does not lend itself to concealment. All this country that I passed over to-night is as flat and clean as the palm of your hand..."

Can vouch for this. Have driven through Cambridgeshire on numerous occasions. Very flat.

'Meanwhile, I can inform you that no spying upon me can in any way help Mr. Godfrey Staunton, and I am convinced that the best service you can do to that gentleman is to return at once to London and to report to your employer that you are unable to trace him.'

I assume from this that Godfrey doesn't want his uncle to find him. My best bet at this moment is that he's got a girlfriend his uncle wouldn't approve of, who is ill perhaps? idk. I'm clutching at straws right now.

“No, no, my dear fellow, there is no cause for alarm. It is not upon this occasion the instrument of evil, but it will rather prove to be the key which will unlock our mystery. On this syringe I base all my hopes."

Holmes, that statement really is not as reassuring as you think it is.

When we descended I followed Holmes into the stable yard, where he opened the door of a loose-box and led out a squat, lop-eared, white-and-tan dog, something between a beagle and a foxhound.

PUPPY!

And on the side of good? Watson's not going to have to shoot this one?

Who's the best boy in this story? Such a good boy, Pompey! Such a good boy.

I caught a glimpse of Dr. Armstrong within, his shoulders bowed, his head sunk on his hands, the very image of distress.

Ah, so he does have emotions other than arrogance. How unexpected.

A woman, young and beautiful, was lying dead upon the bed. Her calm, pale face, with dim, wide-opened blue eyes, looked upward from amid a great tangle of golden hair.

So I may not have been that far off the mark with a relationship that his uncle would not approve of with a sick woman.

“You are a good fellow,” said he. “I had misjudged you. I thank Heaven that my compunction at leaving poor Staunton all alone in this plight caused me to turn my carriage back, and so to make your acquaintance."

Nope, sorry. Still don't like you. I get you were a dick to try and protect your friend, good for you. Cool motive, still an arsehole. You can still be nice to people you're lying to. You don't have to be a dick. It might even help you throw them off the scent.

...or is it worse to be nice in order to manipulate people instead of just letting them know you're being an arsehole?

I guess he's not actually a terrible friend. He's just bad at acting. He might as well have put a sign on his forehead saying 'I am suspicious'.

"A year ago Godfrey Staunton lodged in London for a time, and became passionately attached to his landlady's daughter, whom he married. She was as good as she was beautiful, and as intelligent as she was good."

I'd like to register how impressed I am that 'intelligent' makes the list of her virtues at all, even if it is third. That is probably just my cynicism talking, though.

"But at last there came a terrible blow in the shape of dangerous illness to his wife. It was consumption of the most virulent kind."

Of course it was consumption. If a beautiful, kind young woman in this era died of a terrible illness it was always consumption.

Or brain fever, I guess.

"The result was that he came straight away in a state bordering on frenzy, and has remained in the same state, kneeling at the end of her bed, until this morning death put an end to her sufferings. That is all, Mr. Holmes, and I am sure that I can rely upon your discretion and that of your friend.”

Well this is just a very tragic story. And it might not even have been a story if Holmes had just told Dr Armstrong that he wasn't working for Godfrey's uncle in the first place. Although Dr Armstrong seemed determined to dislike him from the start.

Very sad. And Godfrey can't even tell his friends on the rugby team why he wasn't there without risking his uncle finding out.

But we got to meet Pompey, so that was a good thing. I hope he got lots of treats after working so hard.

#Letters from Watson #The Missing Three Quarter #Sherlock Holmes #long post

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thefisherqueen · 8 months

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Letters from Watson The Missing Three Quarter it is today. After this story I'm completely caught up again with these letters. Very happy about that :)

Even the most insignificant problem would be welcome in these stagnant days.” Be careful what you wish for, Holmes

For years I had gradually weaned him from that drug mania which had threatened once to check his remarkable career. Now I knew that under ordinary conditions he no longer craved for this artificial stimulus, but I was well aware that the fiend was not dead, but sleeping; and I have known that the sleep was a light one and the waking near when in periods of idleness I have seen the drawn look upon Holmes's ascetic face, and the brooding of his deep-set and inscrutable eyes. Ok nevermind, give this man all the cases he wants and needs. These stories really get very real about mental health struggles and the ever-slumbering fight that is addiction. It's really quite beautifully and sympathetically written and cuts right to the heart

that dangerous calm which brought more peril to my friend than all the storms of his tempestuous life. I feel like this is a good reminder that needs are so different person by person. A lot of mental health advice and resources are about helping one calm down, relax, while for some that's really the opposite of what they need. It's the same for me. My natural state is to be calm, tending to tired and sluggish and almost empty. And I can function in that state but barely. I need regular external stimulation to pull me out of that, need to do something with my hands, something that stimulates my brain and gives me energy to actually live my life

sixteen stone of solid bone and muscle *calculates how heavy that is* Just a little over 100kg. Not at all what I would consider enormous, but then everage height was lower back then so I guess he'd be stockier

“It's awful, Mr. Holmes, simply awful! I wonder my hair isn't grey. They really were fond of overnight grey hair transformations back then, weren't they?

Godfrey Staunton—you've heard of him, of course? He's simply the hinge that the whole team turns on. I'd rather spare two from the pack and have Godfrey for my three-quarter line. Took me a while to remember this was about rugby. So, a missing rugby player then. Could be interesing! Everything from kidnapping to murder to runaway to disorientation is on the table

Good Lord! Mr. Holmes, where have you lived?” Holmes laughed at the young giant's naive astonishment. “You live in a different world to me, Mr. Overton, a sweeter and healthier one. My ramifications stretch out into many sections of society, but never, I am happy to say, into amateur sport, which is the best and soundest thing in England. However, your unexpected visit this morning shows me that even in that world of fresh air and fair play there may be work for me to do This is so funny, and also kind of wholesome? Holmes is very amused that Overton assumes he knows anything about sports, but also doesn't tear Overton's passion for sports down, just points out that it's not his area yet still wants to help him

Half an hour later the porter tells me that a rough-looking man with a beard called with a note for Godfrey. He had not gone to bed and the note was taken to his room. Godfrey read it and fell back in a chair as if he had been pole-axed. The porter was so scared that he was going to fetch me, but Godfrey stopped him, had a drink of water, and pulled himself together. Then he went downstairs, said a few words to the man who was waiting in the hall, and the two of them went off together. This sends off all kind of alarm bells

So Godfrey was already anxious, received a note that made it worse, and then went off with someone without telling or taking anything. This gives major blackmail vibes

The visitor of the night before was not a gentleman, neither was he a working man. He was simply what the porter described as a “medium-looking chap”; a man of fifty, beard grizzled, pale face, quietly dressed. He seemed himself to be agitated. The porter had observed his hand trembling when he had held out the note. This rough-looking man might be innocent, then

“We have only to find to whom that telegram is addressed,” I suggested. “Exactly, my dear Watson. "My dear Watson" will always make me smile :)

here is so much red tape in these matters! However, I have no doubt that with a little delicacy and finesse the end may be attained. I'm excited for some clever tricks and manipulation!

“One moment! one moment!” cried a querulous voice, and we looked up to find a queer little old man, jerking and twitching in the doorway. Do we have Overton's uncle here?

As to those papers with which you are making so free, I may tell you that in case there should be anything of any value among them you will be held strictly to account for what you do with them.” “Very good, sir,” said Sherlock Holmes. “May I ask in the meanwhile whether you have yourself any theory to account for this young man's disappearance?” Holmes is very much not impressed by this man's antics. I love how he just blandly agrees with him, which is the first rule of deescalation. Great way to keep him cooperative

“I quite understand your position,” said Holmes, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Perhaps you don't quite understand mine. Oh! Trouble for this sir!

Godfrey Staunton appears to have been a poor man. If he has been kidnapped it could not have been for anything which he himself possesses. The fame of your wealth has gone abroad, Lord Mount-James, and it is entirely possible that a gang of thieves have secured your nephew in order to gain from him some information as to your house, your habits, and your treasure.” Some clever manipulation going on here. Holmes already has deduced that this lord doesn't care at all about his nephew's well-being, so an appeal to help out of concern about his nephew's safety would accomplice nothing. If Holmes twists it into a threat to his riches, however...

Nothing would induce him to give his old uncle away. Awfully confident considering he never did anything for Staunton. Of course Holmes doesn't really think that the possible kidnappers are after information about the lord, but if they are, I guess they don't need torture

In the meantime spare no pains, Mr. Detective! I beg you to leave no stone unturned to bring him safely back. As to money, well, so far as a fiver, or even a tenner, goes, you can always look to me.” Goal accomplished!

I am sorry to trouble you,” said he, in his blandest manner, to the young woman behind the grating; “there is some small mistake about a telegram I sent yesterday. I have had no answer, and I very much fear that I must have omitted to put my name at the end. Could you tell me if this was so?” Yes! I guess that will work

that exceedingly unpleasant old person I just love Holmes' insults. They sound so polite and therefore somehow hit harder

“I have heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I am aware of your profession, one of which I by no means approve.” “In that, doctor, you will find yourself in agreement with every criminal in the country,” said my friend, quietly. Solid burn from Holmes

Where your calling is more open to criticism is when you pry into the secrets of private individuals, when you rake up family matters which are better hidden, and when you incidentally waste the time of men who are more busy than yourself. Someone feels threatened!

Incidentally I may tell you that we are doing the reverse of what you very justly blame, and that we are endeavouring to prevent anything like public exposure of private matters which must necessarily follow when once the case is fairly in the hands of the official police. You may look upon me simply as an irregular pioneer who goes in front of the regular forces of the country. Is Holmes trying to protect Staunton here? If this case becomes public, I guess that would set off a lot of speculation about the player's fate, which - however unfairly - would harm his reputation

“I have no sympathy with these childish games. The young man's fate interests me deeply, since I know him and like him. The football match does not come within my horizon at all.” You cannot care deeply about Staunton and at the same time completely disregard his greatest passion, doctor. I don't like this man

Holmes replaced the bill in his note-book. “If you prefer a public explanation it must come sooner or later,” said he. “I have already told you that I can hush up that which others will be bound to publish, and you would really be wiser to take me into your complete confidence.” Really unwise to try to lie to Holmes

Dear me, dear me; the post-office again!” Holmes sighed, wearily. “A most urgent telegram was dispatched to you from London by Godfrey Staunton at six-fifteen yesterday evening—a telegram which is undoubtedly associated with his disappearance—and yet you have not had it. It is most culpable. I shall certainly go down to the office here and register a complaint.” Such a dramatic delivery. A+

Dr. Leslie Armstrong sprang up from behind his desk, and his dark face was crimson with fury. “I'll trouble you to walk out of my house, sir,” said he. Totally the villain of this story. My for-now theory is that this doctor is blackmailing Staunton, threatening to reveal medical information if Staunton doesn't pay him more. Not sure how the other 'victim' fit into this

“I have not seen a man who, if he turned his talents that way, was more calculated to fill the gap left by the illustrious Moriarty. Holmes is getting major villain vibes as well, then. Wonder how this will end

And now, my poor Watson, here we are, stranded and friendless in this inhospitable town, which we cannot leave without abandoning our case. This little inn just opposite Armstrong's house is singularly adapted to our needs. If you would engage a front room and purchase the necessaries for the night, I may have time to make a few inquiries.” Oh, the intimacy of it all

These few inquiries proved, however, to be a more lengthy proceeding than Holmes had imagined, for he did not return to the inn until nearly nine o'clock. He was pale and dejected, stained with dust, and exhausted with hunger and fatigue. A cold supper was ready upon the table, and when his needs were satisfied and his pipe alight he was ready to take that half comic and wholly philosophic view which was natural to him when his affairs were going awry. Good on Holmes for eating!

The sound of carriage wheels caused him to rise and glance out of the window. A brougham and pair of greys under the glare of a gas-lamp stood before the doctor's door. “It's been out three hours,” said Holmes; “started at half-past six, and here it is back again. That gives a radius of ten or twelve miles, and he does it once, or sometimes twice, a day.” The doctor himself is the one that is holding Staunton captive? I had not expected that

I do not know whether it came from his own innate depravity or from the promptings of his master, but he was rude enough to set a dog at me. Neither dog nor man liked the look of my stick, however, and the matter fell through. Relations were strained after that I bet they were. The image of Holmes wielding a stick as a weapon is very amusing to me

“Could you not follow it?” “Excellent, Watson! You are scintillating this evening. I have trouble reading Holmes' tone here. Not sure if this is sarcastic or not? I suspect it is - damn, Holmes, Watson is only trying to engage in your narrative. Have some patience

We had got well out on the country road when a somewhat mortifying incident occurred. The carriage stopped, the doctor alighted, walked swiftly back to where I had also halted, and told me in an excellent sardonic fashion that he feared the road was narrow, and that he hoped his carriage did not impede the passage of my bicycle. Now that is scary

Meanwhile, I can inform you that no spying upon me can in any way help Mr. Godfrey Staunton, and I am convinced that the best service you can do to that gentleman is to return at once to London and to report to your employer that you are unable to trace him. You underestimate Holmes' stubbornness, doctor. Curious to know how they will go on from here

I think that possibly I can attain our end by some independent explorations of my own. I am afraid that I must leave you to your own devices, as the appearance of two inquiring strangers upon a sleepy countryside might excite more gossip than I care for. Holmes, will you please be careful when you go out trampling off on your own?! This doctor will not hestitate to make you dissapear, too

When you have finished come downstairs with me, and I will introduce you to a detective who is a very eminent specialist in the work that lies before us.” A dog that can sniff out the trail? Just a wild guess

When we descended I followed Holmes into the stable yard, where he opened the door of a loose-box and led out a squat, lop-eared, white-and-tan dog, something between a beagle and a foxhound. A dog it is!

Well, Pompey, you may not be fast, but I expect you will be too fast for a couple of middle-aged London gentlemen, so I will take the liberty of fastening this leather leash to your collar. Now, boy, come along, and show what you can do Very cute :)

“A threadbare and venerable device, but useful upon occasion. I walked into the doctor's yard this morning and shot my syringe full of aniseed over the hind wheel. Ah! Not what I thought at all, lol

And, by Jove! here is the brougham coming round the corner. Quick, Watson, quick, or we are done!” Love the amount of action happening in this story

My friend knocked at the little rustic door, and knocked again without response. And yet the cottage was not deserted, for a low sound came to our ears—a kind of drone of misery and despair, which was indescribably melancholy. Very scared now for Staunton

At the foot of the bed, half sitting, half kneeling, his face buried in the clothes, was a young man, whose frame was racked by his sobs. So absorbed was he by his bitter grief that he never looked up until Holmes's hand was on his shoulder. “Are you Mr. Godfrey Staunton?” “Yes, yes; I am—but you are too late. She is dead.” Those medical bills were for this woman, then, who I assume was Staunton's sweetheart? I wonder what the doctor's role in this was. Certainly nothing good

If, as I imagine, there is no breach of the law in this matter, you can absolutely depend upon my discretion and my co-operation in keeping the facts out of the papers.” Dr. Armstrong took a quick step forward and wrung Holmes by the hand. “You are a good fellow,” said he. “I had misjudged you. And so did I misjudge the doctor. What a twist. Doyle had me entirely on the wrong foot

She was as good as she was beautiful, and as intelligent as she was good. No man need be ashamed of such a wife. But Godfrey was the heir to this crabbed old nobleman, and it was quite certain that the news of his marriage would have been the end of his inheritance. All this secrecy and tragedy for the sake of inherentence? That is just sad. Was the problem then that this girl was low class? And marriage with her would be enough to exclude Staunton from the will? I will never understand financial law

I did not tell him how urgent the danger was, for I knew that he could do no good here, but I sent the truth to the girl's father, and he very injudiciously communicated it to Godfrey. So the other man Staunton went with was the girl's father? Last mystery explained!

Oof. That was quite a read, a lot of plot and excitement in such a short story. I guess it was Holmes' words about kidnapping, and Anderson's very suspicious and threatening behaviour that sets the reader entirely on the wrong foot. But not liking someone is of course not the same as actual wrongdoing. Quite a masterpiece from Doyle

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #the missing three quarter

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eirinstiva · 8 months

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3/4

In the last letter from my friend Watson he started the story of "The Adventure of the Missing Three-Quarter" and because I didn't remember any story in Spanish with 3/4 I had to look for my copy of Todo Sherlock Holmes.

The title in Spanish is "La aventura del delantero desaparecido". The editor Jesús Ulceroy and the translator Juan Manuel Ibeas used delantero (forward, striker) instead of tres cuartos because that sounds like a type of jacket or coat:

Forward is a more familiar word for me because I love football/soccer, but I don't know anything about rugby except that New Zealand's national team is known as "All blacks" and Chile's NT as "Los Cóndores"... and that a friend's boyfriend always ends in the hospital after a match. Also I remembered the case of the missing coats that had Emilio del Castillo, Spanish author of the pastiche plays: Holmes y Raffles and La garra de Holmes (Holmes' claw), who lost two coats in a robbery.

This letter has a impression in a blotting-pad. The original images are these:

While the translation into Spanish are these:

Which is a lot clear, too clear for a blotting-pad.

#letters from watson #the missing three quarter #MISS #acd canon #lost in translation #sherlock holmes #letters in the underground

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kajaono · 6 months

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Honestly, not enough adaptations pay attention to this incredible relationship defining moment.

Watson being the one who gets Holmes away from drugs is so incredible important and I can honestly only name Elementary who really made use of it and regonized the importance of this moment

#johnlock #acd johnlock #acd canon #The Missing Three-Quarter #elementary #joanlock #holla kaja is live blogging books again

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benevolenterrancy · 1 year

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"We were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at Baker Street"

#sherlock holmes #john watson #doctor watson #acd holmes #acd watson #canon holmes #the return of sherlock holmes #the adventure of the missing three-quarter #my art #i'm sure some of the correspondence that holmes gets are WILD

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ofbakerst · 1 month

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'an insupportable boast' don't be mean to watson u dont know his life

#arguing w the annotations now #would be interested in reading the referenced work tho #drug use #the missing three-quarter #acd #the new annotated sherlock holmes

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dathen · 8 months

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“I have heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I am aware of your profession, one of which I by no means approve.”

“In that, doctor, you will find yourself in agreement with every criminal in the country,” said my friend, quietly.

Oh he had that one PREPARED. I bet that Holmes is so used to people being rude to his face about his work by now that he has a whole inventory of zingers he can sling back at them.

#letters from watson #the missing three quarter

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stephensmithuk · 8 months

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The Missing Three-Quarter

Published in 1904, this forms part of Return.

"Weird" in its present meaning is first recorded in 1815.

A three-quarter is someone who plays near the back of a rugby union formation.

Trinity College, Cambridge, was formed in 1546 by the merger of two existing colleges. It is the Oxbridge college with the lowest proportion of state-schooled pupils and no less than six British Prime Ministers are among its alumni. More infamously, four of the five members of the "Cambridge Five" spy ring went there.

Professional sport was just starting to get going on the UK, to considerable controversy. Rugby Union and Rugby League split because of a disagreement about paying players. Many of the clubs were made up of lower- and middle-class players who were missing work to play rugby, so split off in 1895 to form the latter which has slightly different rules and were pro from the get-go. Rugby Union remained amateur until 1995.

The first England international rugby match - and indeed the first such match between two national sides - took place in 1871 against Scotland; they lost. The Scottish team included a non-white player, Alfred Clunies-Ross, who was half-Malay.

Matches were mostly among the "Home Nations" until 1905.

Rugby Union has 15 players to a side - one notable difference from American football is that you're not allowed to pass the ball forwards.

Cambridge is accessible by train from King's Cross and Liverpool Street.

Klinger points out that the richest man in England is so cheap that he's taking the bus.

Intercepting someone's telegrams, telephone calls or mail legally required a warrant signed by the Home Secretary. This of course had the potential for abuse.

The Cambridgeshire Fens are low-lying, flat and marshy. Not good for hiding.

Draghounds follow a prepared scent trail instead of a live animal; thus the sport remains legal despite the more general ban on fox-hunting within dogs passed in 2004.

Pompey was a Roman Republic general and statesman, but the name is also one closely associated with Portsmouth.

Trumpington is a real village, first recorded in the 1086 Domesday Book.

"Consumption" or tuberculosis was a common thing in Victorian/Edwardian literature to inflict on innocent, attractive female characters, who could die in a "beautiful" manner.

The BCG vaccine used to prevent tuberculosis did not start being used on humans until 1921; the main treatment at the time was rest and good food.

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes #the missing three-quarter #MISS #history #factoids

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theriseofthesea · 7 months

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“He's a fine place-kick, it's true, but, then, he has no judgment, and he can't sprint for nuts.”

Giggling at the phrase “can’t sprint for nuts,”

I love Mr. Overton already. He seems like such an interesting dude.

#sherlock holmes #letters from watson #the missing three quarter #live blogging #:DDDD

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no-side-us · 8 months

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Letters From Watson Liveblog - Sep. 1

The Missing Three-Quarter, Part 1 of 2

This story was published in 1904, so that would make this story take place around 1897 or '96, give or take a year because of how vague Watson is. Regardless, for people making timelines (who are braver than most), I imagine statements like this are either incredibly frustrating in pinning down an exact date, or a sweet reprieve because there's more freedom to pin it where you want.

I never considered it before, but maybe one of the reasons Watson moved back in with Holmes in Baker Street was to make sure he didn't fall back into his addiction. I like the idea that Watson is constantly helping Holmes through it in the background of all these adventures.

From what little I remember this is a missing persons case, so I'm not quite sure how that's more appropriate for Holmes than the police. Hopkins was probably just swamped with work and knew Holmes would be able to solve whatever was going on.

Cyril Overton is fun, a real gentle giant sort of character. I can also relate to Holmes' reaction and subsequent lack of sports knowledge. Although I feel he should be somewhat familiar if only in regards to the possibility of it pertaining to a case, but I guess that's what this story is for.

Ah, writing impressions. I remember doing those as a kid, taking my dad's notepad and finding some tax thing I was too young to care about. I'm surprised it took so long for it to appear in these stories.

Usually when a character says they are the only family someone has got, it's a sentimental line, and I'm not sure it works the other way. Funny, though. Anyways, I doubt Lord Mount-James is involved in Godfrey's disappearance, at least not directly. It just seems like too much effort for someone like him.

I'm not going to go through all the cases so far to see whether that's true. But Watson's not wrong, so far there's very little to go off. I hope it's related to rugby though, as I was disappointed at how Watson didn't talk about it at all in today's letter. I want to see him gush about it, reveal his favorite teams, players, use specific terminology, etc. Just utterly surprise Holmes with his sports knowledge. Hopefully in the next letter.

Part 1 - Part 2

#letters from watson #the missing three quarter #sherlock holmes #john h watson #cyril overton #godfrey staunton #lord mount-james #stanley hopkins #arthur conan doyle #liveblogging sherlock holmes

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mariana-oconnor · 8 months

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The Missing Three-Quarter pt 1

We were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at Baker Street, but I have a particular recollection of one which reached us on a gloomy February morning some seven or eight years ago...

OK, so obviously my first question - in spite of knowing that time is made up in these stories and attempting to pin them down is an exercise in madness - is what year was this story published. Google provides: 1904. So we're supposedly looking at 1896-7.

Not that that means anything.

“Please await me. Terrible misfortune. Right wing three-quarter missing; indispensable to-morrow. — Overton.”

I mean if you're missing three quarters of your right wing, that does sound like a terrible misfortune, but I am interested in how a bird managed to send a telegram. Perhaps it is the trained cormorant! Or one of the canaries.

Despite being British and my brother having played it at school (and numerous other things about my life which mean I should know), the rules and terminology of rugby are completely beyond me. It is a massive gap in my knowledge that I have no real desire to fill in. I know William Webb Ellis and that there's League and Union, something something scrum, score a try, six nations. There. That's all I know.

But according to the post script in the last email, this is about Rugby, so I must assume that Right Wing three quarter refers to a playing position and that tomorrow there is a rugby game.

This is honestly a really interesting and serious discussion of drug addiction. We've had a few comments from Watson about it before, but never to this extent, I don't think. And the actual discussion of how he's been slowly getting Sherlock clean over the years. But the acknowledgement that it's always there, waiting. And it's always preying on Watson's mind, too.

Mr. Cyril Overton, of Trinity College, Cambridge

Of course he's from a Cambridge college and worrying about a rugby game. The only way this could be more Oxbridge is if it were the boat race he was worrying about.

Do you think it's an Oxbridge match or an intercollegiate one?

“I've been down to Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes. I saw Inspector Stanley Hopkins. He advised me to come to you. He said the case, so far as he could see, was more in your line than in that of the regular police.”

Glad to see the police really care about missing people. Although 'university rugby player wandered off' isn't really that unusual in my experience. After a rugby social night you'd trip over them in the weirdest places. After the medical students, they probably had the most intense events.

"Whether it's passing, or tackling, or dribbling, there's no one to touch him..."

Do you dribble in rugby? I genuinely thought that was a football term.

(According to the All Blacks apparently you do... weird. I do not understand this game at all)

"Why, Morton or Johnson, the Oxford fliers, could romp round him."

Ah, it's an Oxbridge match. No wonder he's so put out about it.

“There is Arthur H. Staunton, the rising young forger,” said he, “and there was Henry Staunton, whom I helped to hang, but Godfrey Staunton is a new name to me.”

Just let me look in my book of people. Oh yes, he's not the one I had hanged... nope, don't know him. This is so funny to me.

“I suppose, then, if you have never heard of Godfrey Staunton you don't know Cyril Overton either?”

His utter astonishment at Holmes not knowing about rugby is sweet and also hilarious. Also kind of arrogant, but I was expecting that.

...with many repetitions and obscurities which I may omit from his narrative, he laid his strange story before us.

Thank you, Watson.

"Half an hour later the porter tells me that a rough-looking man with a beard called with a note for Godfrey. [...] Godfrey read it and fell back in a chair as if he had been pole-axed. [...] Then he went downstairs, said a few words to the man who was waiting in the hall, and the two of them went off together. The last that the porter saw of them, they were almost running down the street in the direction of the Strand."

Oooh... long lost relative? But what's in the letter? Does Godfrey have a secret past? Is the bearded man a colonel? Has he trained some birds to do crimes? But if he had trained birds to do crimes, surely he could also train them to deliver messages without needing porters.

Even with Watson editing this down, the tone, pace and wording still convey Cyril's personality perfectly. Excellent character work. Chef's kiss.

“I wired to Lord Mount-James.” “Why to Lord Mount-James?” “Godfrey is an orphan, and Lord Mount-James is his nearest relative—his uncle, I believe.”

Ding-ding, we have some more evidence for long lost relative. Maybe crawling out of the woodwork to get money? If Godfrey is related to a Lord, that would make sense.

"Lord Mount-James is one of the richest men in England.”

Yep, there is definitely going to be at least an indication that money is involved. Although it may turn out to be one of those stories where that is a red herring.

“Yes, he was his heir, and the old boy is nearly eighty—cram full of gout, too. They say he could chalk his billiard-cue with his knuckles. He never allowed Godfrey a shilling in his life, for he is an absolute miser, but it will all come to him right enough.”

They are really building up the money motive. Makes me think it won't be that straightforward.

He was simply what the porter described as a “medium-looking chap”

Watson, king of describing people, faced with an ordinary person. You can feel the exasperation.

“It is a pity he did not write in pencil,” said he, throwing them down again with a shrug of disappointment. “As you have no doubt frequently observed, Watson, the impression usually goes through—a fact which has dissolved many a happy marriage. However, I can find no trace here. I rejoice, however, to perceive that he wrote with a broad-pointed quill pen, and I can hardly doubt that we will find some impression upon this blotting-pad."

Proper old school detective work going on. Blotting paper. Does anyone in the world still use blotting paper, I wonder. I spent my childhood reading Enid Blyton and Agatha Christie and wondering what it even was.

"But I dare say it may have come to your notice that if you walk into a post-office and demand to see the counterfoil of another man's message there may be some disinclination on the part of the officials to oblige you. There is so much red tape in these matters! However, I have no doubt that with a little delicacy and finesse the end may be attained."

How dare they protect people's privacy in that way! How dare!

Honestly, I find this kind of reassuring. I may have assumed that there was no security about these things at all in the Victorian era. Weird when you find something that they did better back then. By 'delicacy and finesse' does he mean 'bribery'? So... maybe not any better really.

...we looked up to find a queer little old man, jerking and twitching in the doorway. He was dressed in rusty black, with a very broad brimmed top-hat and a loose white necktie—the whole effect being that of a very rustic parson or of an undertaker's mute. Yet, in spite of his shabby and even absurd appearance, his voice had a sharp crackle, and his manner a quick intensity which commanded attention.

See, Mr Day-porter, this is how you describe a person.

"If he has any expectations it is due to the fact that I have never wasted money, and I do not propose to begin to do so now. As to those papers with which you are making so free, I may tell you that in case there should be anything of any value among them you will be held strictly to account for what you do with them.”

Huge Scrooge McDuck vibes from this guy.

“Heavens, sir, what an idea! I never thought of such villainy! What inhuman rogues there are in the world! But Godfrey is a fine lad—a staunch lad. Nothing would induce him to give his old uncle away."

Dude, hate to say it, but if you were my uncle I would absolutely give you away. In a heartbeat. I would be telling them every piece of information I knew about you so fast they'd have burgled your house before you could blink. Unless they showed me their faces, then I'd use the information as leverage to get away.

But you seem like such a great guy, I'm sure Godfrey wants to protect you with his life.

Totally.

"You must admit that it is curious and suggestive that this incident should occur on the eve of this important match, and should involve the only man whose presence seems essential to the success of the side."

I mean, if he hadn't gone off on his own accord, I'd definitely support the argument 'Oxford kidnapped him'. Makes perfect sense.

OH... Holmes meant people who had bet on the game.

My best bet currently is that he got news (real or false) about someone he cares about and left to try to help them. That would also explain the 'us'.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #The Missing Three-Quarter #long post

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