Elementary My Dear Bing !

Sat 8th Sept - Sun 9th Sept 1888.

9am Breams Blvd.

n interesting case," mused Bing as he smoked his pipe, blue smoke curling to the ceiling in mind pleasing patterns, "and that poor woman Camellia, in definite need of help. I'll have dinner with young James tonight, if he's not busy, then I'll saunter upto Chigwell."

Bing sent James a telegram to meet him at his club, Boodles in St. James Street, an elegant establishment, which suited Bing well.

After dressing suitably, Bing packed a carpet bag with his camera and magnifying glass, and jauntily swinging his cane strolled along to his club.

"Evening Jones," he nodded to the doorman.

"Evening Sir, Mr. Richardson is waiting for you in the smoking room sir."

"Thank you," smiled Bing as he walked into the old establishment, greeting various acquaintances he had, as he made his way to the smoking room.

"Ah James, glad you could make it. Long time no see, ha ha."

"Evening Bing. Nice of you to invite me."

"Lets eat. I'm starving."

Bing waited 'til coffee before broaching the subject he wanted answering.

"London seems to be in such a state these days. What with the anarchists, Jack the Ripper and the Chigwell Choker. What to you thinks going on James ?"

"I've no idea really. Jack the Ripper's probably some woman hating maniac, who gets some satisfaction from bumping off prostitutes. The anarchists have always been a problem, they'll get more dangerous now of course, with all the munitions they stole. The interesting thing is the guards at the Arsenal appear to have had a mental attack when the van drove up, the police can't explain it and I can't. Now the really interesting crimes are the Chokers. A murderer who mysteriously disappears right in front of a policeman and the maid saw nothing, but the murderer must have been very close, for he rang the bell. In the first murder of Phyllis Jones, her body was found in a locked room, with a locked window and no other exits. Surly a case for a great detective. I'd imagine its just coincidence that its all happening at once."

Bing caught a hansom up to Chigwell, and stopped just down the road from the Dower's shop. Best have a scout around first. There were three clock makers in the street, one of them was open, so Bing went in and started to study the stock. The owner came out, a middle aged man with a paunch and a liking of strong liquor and the shop's not doing that well.

"Good evening, I'm looking for a very high quality hunter. Mr. Dower's establishment was recommended to me as the best, but it appears to have been closed up. I was wondering whether your watches came up to the standard of Mr. Dower's."

"Ah Sir you've come to the right place. You don't want to go to Dower's, they're good, but mediocre really. Whereas I am simply the best in London. Your informant has really let you down by recommending Dower's. Now let me show you my finest."

Bing presumes the man is not quite telling the truth and the quality of his watches leaves a lot to be desired. Bing escapes the shop after half an hour and looked around the Dower's shop for any sign of the mysterious dwarf. Creeping around the house, there's no sign of him.

"Must be his night off," thought Bing.

He walked around to the front and knocked on the door. It was opened almost immediately by Miss Dower, brandishing a poker.

"O it's you Mr. Richardson. I was so scared I thought it was that horrid dwarf back again. O do come in, so much has happened since this afternoon."

Seated in Miss Dower's parlour with a cup of tea, Miss Dower explained what had happened.

"When I got home, five minutes later there's a knock on the door and I opens it and there's this portly nobleman on the steps."

"How do you know he's a noble, Miss Dower ?"

"He had a crest on his carriage, but it was to far away or me to see it clearly, without my glasses. Anyway, he says 'Good evening Miss Dower. I would like to buy your brother's stock.' Well I said no straight away for it's not mine to sell. But he says 'You don't seem to understand Miss Dower, I'm offering very good money. One hundred pounds' and he leans over me. Well I don't know what I'd have done if the vicar hadn't come along at that moment. I called him over and invited him in for tea. Then the noble scowls and whispers 'I'll be back and I won't be buying.' and then he stomps off.

"Did the vicar see the crest ?"

"No, he's as blind as a bat, poor man. Anyway I'm having tea with the vicar when I hear some scratching coming from the shop door. Hello I says, it's that Lord back again, trying to rob me. Well I seized the poker, strode into the shop and flung open the door. Then I see that nasty little midget with a knife in his hand. Then he hissed at me, spat some flames and jumped off. I've never been so scared in all my life. It was like a demon."

"Did you get a clear view of the dwarf ?"

"Unfortunately no, I was so petrified."

"Can I ask you some further questions Miss Dower ? ... Thank you. Firstly, I understand that George was a good clock maker, is that the case ?"

"Yes, George was the best maker of clockwork mechanisms in England and probably Europe. He won lots of awards from the Guild. Look there over the mantle piece. And perhaps you've heard of the St. Paul's Automata; they were all George's work."

"What was George working on at the last moment before he disappeared ?"

"I don't know, but it was very big, we had lots of materials arriving and was often away on business trips. I think it was this last job which put so much stress on him, but I don't know what it was."

"And lastly, this afternoon you mentioned, George got into 'bad company', could you possibly enlarge upon that ?"

"Well I don't like to spread tales, but he did appear to be visited by fallen women who'd arrive late at night and not leave 'till morning. Or he'd go out for the night and come back smelling of drink and worse things. And quite often he'd go into trances."

"Trances ?"

"Yes he'd smoke a pipe; which really smelt, and then he'd go into a trance, staring at a wall for hours with a smile on his face. I'd have gone mad if it wasn't for Eric helping me."

"Have you got any pictures of George and Eric ?"

"Yes, I laid out a couple of photographs, just in case you needed them."

"Thank you, now may I see George's private room ?"

"Well, I suppose so, but it's locked."

"That's no trouble for me."

It actually took Bing quite a time to pick the lock of the door, for the lock was a good one, and he left a lot of scratches on the metal.

The door swung open on well oiled hinges and as Bing lifted his oil lamp the room was revealed. An Aladdin's cave for an engineer or clock maker. From floor to ceiling, over the work tables, on the chairs, in drawers; the room was full of mechanisms, many of them clockwork. But others beyond Bing's basic engineering skills to deduce how they worked.

Bing entered the room and looked around for the gas lamp. Turning to one side he found himself face to face with a huge man, leering at him through the gloom. Jumping back, Bing knocked against a table, keeping his balance but dropping the lamp which smashed on the floor, Bing in a fluid motion drew his sword cane and stamped out the flame before it could catch a hold.

"Who's there ?" Asked Bing, sword steady in his hand. "Answer me you scoundrel." No sound came to Bing's ears and so cautiously he edged around to the gas lamp and awkwardly lit the lamp. A mellow glow illuminated the room to reveal a partially built clockwork man. Realistic in every way, but for the mechanism sticking out of its chest.

Something stirred in Bing's mind and stepping closer he took out the picture of Eric Dower. A duplicate. Could this be what had sent him mad ?

Bing lit the other lamps, closed the door, and examined the room closely, 20' by 20', windows boarded up with thick planks and barred; thick door with heavy bolts on this side. The workroom was fully equipped for a craftsman, exquisitely delicate tools lay in their racks, others were scattered around the various machines.

Turning his attention to the machines, Bing was baffled, he hadn't an idea what they were for, some seemed to be parts for the automaton. Others were weirdly shaped helmets, wires running from them to boxes with knobs and levers on. A horn attached to another box, lots of other stuff with no recognisable parts.

Thinking it more prudent, Bing decided not to attempt to use any of the perplexing machines.

Taking his camera, Bing took a few snaps of the room, perhaps he could show them to someone.

The room was so cluttered, Bing couldn't deduce which of the objects was the one which George had been working on last.

"Good gracious, it's 5am. Time certainly flies when your having fun. I'll best be off to bed, then apply a fresh mind to the problem," he muttered to himself.

Easily locking the door after him, Bing left a note for Miss Dower that he was continuing the investigation, to contact him immediately if anything happened and to fetch the police if her life was threatened.