A Study In Scarlet: The Quest for the Stunning Scarlet Gown

By 'acquainted with Vitruvius'

Twelve-year-old Miss Russell turned to her brother, wondering if she had really heard what she thought she had just heard. Part of the shock was the language, although not so much the words -- her fifteen year old cousin had introduced her to quite a few of the words, plus a few more during their visit last summer -- but who had spoken them -- Gladys, the upstairs maid whom they all thought was the nice one. But most of the shock was at the subject matter -- could Grace Brothers really be haunted?

After listening (a less discreet soul would have described it as 'eavesdropping') for a minute longer to determine that there was nothing else that Gladys would add, Miss Russell climbed back up the stairway and entered her brother's room. "So, do you think any of what Gladys said is true?" she began without preamble when he entered the room a minute later (he had continued down the stairs to fetch a glass of water, as had been his original intent when Gladys' shocking statements had been heard).

"Now Mary," he began with that all knowing look for which he was famous. Even though he was five years her junior, Master Russell frequently felt he was intellectually superior to his sister, much to her chagrin. He had, after all, started reading at age three and was doing complex geometry by age five. "You surely do not believe in that story of paranormal activity as described by Gladys who heard it from her cousin who gleaned it from her husband who got the first hand account from his mate in a pub who happens to be a night watchmen at Grace Brothers?"

"No," his sister confessed, "But it would have made the next few weeks until Mum and Dad returned more interesting."

"Ah," her brother said. "That is an excellent point. Perhaps we should investigate the events surrounding this, er, 'ghost'. At least until something more interesting comes along." He beamed his most mischievous smile and continued, "Perhaps we should form one of those detective agencies? I rather fancy calling ourselves 'Partners in Crime' as I am sure we will commit something that our dearest Mum would consider a crime along the way."

Miss Russell nodded in agreement. "I am rather at the end of my tether regarding that tedious translation Mum gave me to keep me out of trouble."

"Yes," her brother nodded. "It is amusing that she should think you needed to be kept out of trouble, not me," he said with a wink and a smile. "Shall we review the facts as presented by Gladys then plan a course of action?"

Once again Miss Russell nodded in agreement and began to speak, "There really is a dearth of facts. The night watchman, a Mr. Arthur Dent, reports hearing noises similar to that of running water and a teakettle whistling around two am in the Gentlemen's Ready-Made department on the fourth floor of Grace Brothers approximately two months ago. He also claims to have smelled some tobacco smoke and believes he may have seen the shadow of a maharajah smoking a pipe. Frightened half to death, Mr. Dent arranged to change rounds with another colleague -- unofficially, that is, as an official change would have prompted undesirable questions from his superiours. The colleague reported no unusual events. However, due to the fact he was caught consuming large quantities of whiskey while performing his rounds, he was given the boot and Mr. Dent had to return to his rounds on the fourth floor at the beginning of the month. There was nothing unusual -- no smells, sounds, or sights -- for two weeks, and Mr. Dent began to relax and put the previous incident down as being due to an overactive imagination perhaps prompted by the grand opening of the 'Maharajah's Palace Indian Restaurant' a half block from his humble abode around the same time as the incident. Then, a week ago, again on the fourth floor this time around four in the morning, he reports having seen a tall woman with curly blond hair wearing a stunning scarlet evening dress with matching sandals. She had appeared from a dead-end corridor, headed towards the stairs, and disappeared. Mr. Dent further states that he had not been drinking on either occasion and had not reported the incident to anyone (besides the colleague) for fear that he would be accused of drink and himself be given the boot."

"Succinctly put, my dear sister," her brother said in a slightly condescending tone. "Where does that leave us?"

"I do believe that leaves you needing a new pair of trousers to allow us to take a gander at Gents' Ready-Made," his sister replied.

Getting to Grace Brothers the next morning was a simple exercise. While their parents were away, the two siblings had been left in the care of their iron-faced Scots nurse/governess who was easily manipulated by both before their third birthdays. This aforementioned nurse/governess was also inordinately fond of shopping. Thus, it was child's play for the children to choreograph a surreptitious visit to the scene of the alleged apparition.

Having adequately distracted their nurse/governess by passing through the teashop on the third floor right as the World Famous Oversized Grace Brothers cinnamon-orange scones were pulled from the oven, the intrepid duo arrived on the fourth floor to find the floor divided between two warring factions, the already mentioned Gentlemen's Ready-Made department and the unexpected Ladies' Intimate Apparel department. Thus, they decided to divide forces not only to increase their ability to search the floor sufficiently to determine the cause of Mr. Dent's apparition but also to avoid the scandal of young Master Russell poking about in Ladies' Intimate Apparel.

Young Master Russell began his search by engaging the two floor salesmen, a Mr. Wilberforce Clayborne Humphries and a Mr. Ernest Granger, in conversation. He elicited no pertinent information from either gentleman and was soon reduced to walking around the department, examining various garments, hoping to catch the elusive scent of tobacco.

His sister, however, fared much better, being a fair young lady. She informed the two sales associates of Ladies' Intimate Apparel, one Mrs. Mary Elizabeth Jennifer Rachel Yiddle Abergavenny Slocombe and one Miss Shirley Brahms, that she was looking for a gift for her mother but was uncertain of the particulars of it and merely wished to look around for a bit. When she needed their assistance, she assured them, she would request it. So thus freed from the necessity of having to actually shop for something, Miss Russell stumbled upon a suspicious looking closet inexplicitly labeled 'Storage Room.' "Now why," Miss Russell asked herself, "would there be a Storage Room down the hall from Ladies' Intimate Apparel that had the subtle scent of tobacco?" She tried the door only to find it was locked. At this juncture, she discerned she had two possible courses of action. One was to find her brother who fancied himself rather good at picking locks and to request his assistance in the unlocking and opening of the door. Another was to locate young Mr. Grace, an old friend of the family, and see if she could locate the key to the closet. She decided on visiting Mr. Grace, knowing that if her latter course of action failed, she could resort to the former.

Miss Russell quickly mounted the stairs to the fifth floor where Young Mr. Grace's offices were located. Young Mr. Grace, now an octogenarian, had an office next to his older brother, Old Mr. Grace. Unfortunately, both of the brothers were out interviewing new secretaries in the Executives' lunchroom. Slightly dejected, Miss Russell started to head back to the fourth floor to recruit her brother when she spied another old ally, Mr. Beverly Harmon, a member of the Maintenance and Packing department.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Harmon," began Miss Russell.

"Hul-lo, Miss Russol," replied Mr. Harmon. "What brin's ye to Grace Brothers this gaud mornin'?"

"My brother, young Master Russell, is in need of a new pair of trousers." Here Miss Russell paused, recognizing she needed to rework her prearranged reason for borrowing the key, which had to do with needing to open the closet to retrieve that special item located in the closet to present to her mother as a gift. "I say, Mr. Harmon, do you happen to have a key to the Storage Room located on the fourth floor on the edge of the Ladies' Intimate Apparel department? I wish to play a prank on my brother."

Mr. Harmon grinned, as he knew how devious the two siblings Russell could be. "And this prank only involves yer brother, does't? I wont be hearin' from yer nannie about it later today, wilt I?"

Miss Russell assumed her most innocent expression. "Of course not, Mr. Harmon! I would never play such a cruel joke on dear Mrs. MacLeod!"

With a sly grin, he removed an oversized key ring containing approximately forty-three keys, selected the second from last one labeled 'Bolt-Room' and handed it over to Miss Russell. "Ye juist ha' this back to me afore nicht'."

Miss Russell smiled her most charming smile and said, "Thank you, Mr. Harmon. I will." She then turned and headed down to the fourth floor to the mysterious door marked 'Storage Room.'

As she approached the door, Miss Russell felt a pang of guilt. Should she not wait for her brother? After all, they were 'Partners in Crime' were they not? Before she could open her mouth to call out for him, the feeling had passed, and she was unlocking the door.

As she stepped into the 'Storage Room' Miss Russell had a peculiar sense that she would be repeating this action again some years in the future. Looking around, she shook off the feeling since the room she stepped in was not one she would like to revisit.

It was a tiny space, possibly a maintance closet in a former career, approximately six feet by eight feet. Along one wall were multiple racks containing a wide variety of clothing ranging from an elegant gentleman's evening suit to a tweed plus fours. There was also a stunning scarlet evening dress that Miss Russell believed had previously been seen by Mr. Dent. Yes, there were the matching shoes in a rather large size. Surely, they were too big for a woman to wear? Across from the clothing racks was a well-worn oversized sofa. There was also an oversized table, almost as large as the sofa, crammed full of pots and tubes of makeup, wigs (ah, there was the blonde curly wig), fake beards, and false teeth. There was also a small kitchen area containing a gas ring, a small hand basin, a rather dented teakettle, a couple of pots, and various kitchen supplies. The place, of course, reeked of tobacco, as if an individual had spent several days cooped up in this room incessantly smoking. "What," wondered Miss Russell, "Have I stumbled across?"

Registering that time was passing, she quickly left the room, locking it behind her. She headed down the stairs and out to the locksmith shop she remembered seeing on their way to Grace Brothers. She had a duplicate made of the key, paid the locksmith with her shopping money, then scurried back to the fourth floor. As she stepped onto the floor, she saw Mr. Harmon, returned his key to him (making sure she still had her copy), and began to look for her brother. She knew what he would want to do as the next step of their investigation -- to catch the apparition -- but how would they pull it off?

As fate would have it, Master Russell had a plan. "It is quite elementary, dear Mary. We shall take turns keeping the place under scrutiny. Since the previous encounters reported by Mr. Dent were in the early morning hours when Grace Brothers is closed, I recommend we focus our observation during those times. One of us will, of course, have to remain at home to distract our dearest governess." He looked at his sister with his blue eyes to ascertain she agreed with his comments. Seeing her gently nod her head in agreement, he continued, "Do you want the shift tonight or tomorrow?"

Miss Russell selected to take the first shift and thus found herself sequestered in the curious little room later that evening. It was fairly simple to slip out of the house and into Grace Brothers without being seen. The difficult part, she was beginning to realize as she stifled yet another yawn, was keeping watch. She decided to pass the time by more fully exploring the room, but the more she examined the objects in the room, the more she realized that there were quite a number of objects left to explore. The rack of clothing, for example, contained only two or three sizes, but enough variety to provide a complete wardrobe for two or three people (provided, of course, that the two or three people were not fastidious about the types of garments they were wearing. Miss Russell seriously doubted that her mother would consent to wearing that evening suit, even if it fit her. "Hmm," she thought to herself, "I wonder if that would fit me. A pair of trousers would greatly facilitate my escape from my second floor bedroom window on occasions such as this.") In her excavation of the room, she also found a pipe and several tins of fresh tobacco, fresh being a relative term as tobacco is technically the dried leaves of the Nicotiana tabacum plant and thus not fresh in the true meaning of the word.

Eventually, Miss Russell fell asleep on the sofa, not to awake until six am or so when the great cleaning staff of Grace Brothers arrived to maintain their reputation.

When she reported to her brother later that morning, he thoughtfully scratched his chin, then silently picked up Tolstoy's Voyna i mir.

That evening was exacting for Miss Russell. She was not so much concerned with what might happen if her brother was found to be missing as much as to what she might be missing. Alas, when he returned the following morning, he too had nothing to report except that he had completed reading chapters one and two.

And so the next few days progressed. At one point, Master Russell grumbled at the choice of reading material whereupon Miss Russell reminded him that he had selected the novel written in Russian, not she. And further, she was enjoying the opportunity to read Russian instead of Hebrew for a change. Miss Russell also secretly enjoyed the fact that while her brother was struggling with the work, she was having no difficulty and was on chapter forty-five while he still was reading chapter fifteen. He may have been doing complex algebra at the age of six, but she was still superiour in all matters related to the reading and understanding of languages, having mastered Latin by the age of five.

So it was with a bit of surprise when one morning Master Russell returned from Grace Brothers carrying the tome as the siblings had decided to leave the monstrous volume in the closet instead of carrying it with them. "It is finished," he announced in a portentous voice dropping the book on her nightstand causing it to sway and nearly collapse under the weight of the book.

His sister slowly raised an eyebrow and asked, "You finished the whole novel? I thought you were only on chapter twenty-three."

"No, our investigation is complete! I have unmasked the apparition," her brother continued in the same tone of voice.

It was what Miss Russell had feared most -- her brother had solved the puzzle, which meant she would have to put up with his boasting for the next six months! She leaned back in her chair and looked expectantly at her brother. "Well?" she inquired when he did not immediately divulge the resolution.

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a copy of The Strand, which he tossed to his sister with a slight smirk on his face.

Miss Russell picked up the magazine off the floor where it had fallen -- her brother was an awful shot! "P.G. Wodehouse?" she asked in a tone that indicated more than an infinitesimal amount of disbelief. "You think a humourist --"

"No, no, no," Master Russell interrupted impatiently. He pointed to the story entitled "THE DISAPPEARANCE OF LADY FRANCES CARFAX."

"My dear brother, I believe someone is trying to pull the wool over your eyes! Mr. Holmes, if I correctly recall, is the creation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle who based the character on his professor Dr. Joseph Bell, with whom he studied at the University of Edinburgh Medical School in 1877." Miss Russell paused, watching her brother's reaction.

"Sorry, Mary, but you are most definitely wrong! Mr. Holmes really does exist. See?" With this last syllable, Master Russell produced his evidence, a piece of equipment he knew would convince his sister that Mr. Holmes was a real, breathing, living human being. He pulled out a small piece of purple velvet and unwrapped it to reveal a cracked magnifying lens.

Miss Russell was most astonished at this piece of proof and felt her world start to slide sideways. Did this mean Carroll's Alice of Through the Looking Glass was real? What about Baum's Wizard of Oz? And how about Kipling's Kim O'Hara? "Don't be silly, Russ," thought Miss Russell to herself. "Of course Kim doesn't really exist!" She shook her head and looked at her brother, questioningly, demanding "Explain."

He began to relate all he had ascertained from the 'apparition' -- Mr. Holmes, himself -- the previous night. It was a 'bolt-hole' that belonged to Mr. Holmes where he would, on occasion, retire to change disguises, find sanctuary, or smoke a pipe and drink a cup of tea. He had performed some service for the Senior Mr. Grace (the father of the current brothers Grace) and in exchange, he (the Senior Mr. Grace) had given Mr. Holmes the 'bolt-hole' space, along with the assistance of several tradesmen to install plumbing, gas lines, etc. He, (the Senior Mr. Grace) having granted the closet to Mr. Holmes in perpetuity (of which the good lawyers of Mr. Holmes have written documentation, signed, dated, and filed away), promptly forgot all about it, essentially giving Mr. Holmes a hidden, forgotten space in Ladies' Intimate Apparel.

"He -- Mr. Holmes that is -- even expected the Senior Mr. Grace to bill him for the utilities he used, but, as of a week ago when he last checked, there has been no bill sent, and the charges would have been accumulating for some thirty plus years. Oh, yes, I have been requested not to reveal any of this information except to you, so please keep it confidential." He grinned at his sister. "I think you would like Mr. Holmes since he rather thinks a bit like you, except he would rather play with chemical experiments than Hebrew verbs. He is even a neighbor of ours, of sorts, living in Sussex about ten miles from the farm, keeping bees, of all things! Really, Mary, you missed out this time, as he and I sat around for several hours drinking tea and discussing all sorts of philosophical topics relating to the art of detection, but perhaps in the future sometime you will be able to meet the great detective." With this last prophetic statement, Master Russell walked out of his sister's room, leaving her rather disappointed in the conclusion of their first and only investigation into paranormal activity.