Fourth Grade Fiction

After Sarah wanted to know about our first writing experiences and then Duane posted some of his, I thought I'd be a follower and post my very first Sherlock Holmes story. I wrote it, according to The Cobbler the school's lit magazine, in 1988-89. I left the punctuation as is. (I remember my dad helping my revise this, and I'm sure he's responsible for the Afghanistan line, along with the simplicity line. The rest--I believe--is all me.)


"The Adventure of the Golden Bookcase"

(Based on characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle)

by

David White

I had been awakened out of a deep sleep by my jolly good friend Sherlock Holmes. It was warm outside on this bright August day.

"Watson, you can't always sleep," said he, "especailly when we have a client."

"We do?" asked I, "We have had one since two weeks ago."

"Indeed? Well, we have one now!" he said as we walked into the room. "Let me introduce Mr. Wall. Dr. Watson."

"Maybe I inquire as to your first name, Mr. Wall?" I asked as if I were very eager to find out.

"Ian, Ian Wall," he said, then turned back to the famous detective. "Mr. Holmes, I will give you the facts. My brother Todd and I had always been good friends. One night in the early fall my brother had heard a sound and went downstairs to investigate. I followed him. He wnet into the library and over to my gold bookcase.

"Now comes the strange, the awful, part. In the room, pressed against the large library window, a man with a knife and gun watched my brother intently. The windown stood open to let in the cool breeze on what had been a very warm autumn afternoon. Tood noticed the man at that instant, and instinctively backed away. Without warning, the stranger threw the knife, pinning my brother against teh far wall. Before I could respond, the stranger shot my brother.

"I rushed toward Tood immediately and heard a loud bang. I turned once again to the window and the man was gone."

"The police investigation led to naught. I had not thought of visiting the authorities agai, until a week ago when father was killed in precisely the same fashion, a knife blade through his sleeve and a bullet through ihs heart. This time, however, I got a glimpse of the man's silhouette against the window. The man had no right arm. As I held my dying father, the one-armed man escaped again, stealing money with my father had recently inherited. That is all I can tell you."

Holmes had been listening intensely and said, "The less to go on, the more to solve." But it looked to me as if Holmes had the case solved already and had only to prove it! "You may leave, Mr. Wall."

"Ha!" Holes laughed when the man was gone. "This case is simplicity itself. Tonight we will go to the scene and find the clues."

That night Holmes and I went to the scene of the terrible murders. The house was huge, gloomy and gray. Its stone front seemed to merge with the fog, with only the flcikering light from two windows to outline its presence. Holmes knocked on the large oak door. Mr. Wall let us in. Holmes stalked past him and immediately went to the bookcase.

"The bookcase seems steady enough. You are right, Mr. Wall. He must have gone through the window."

"Holmes, are you trying to keep something from us?"

"Certainly not, Watson!"

We begged Holmes to tell use if he had solved the crimes, but he kept saying the same thing.

"I know the convict's name. It is Maxwell Drew, and no more dangerous man occupies England."

"Mr. Holmes, how in the world could you know that?" Wall asked.

"Simple. He is the only man in London with no right arm who is an expert with both a knife and a pistol!"

We looked around in curiousity but found nothing. Then we left Wall's estate to return to 221b Baker Street.

Holmes suddenly left the flat and, without a word, walked out into the fog.

Around midnight I was awakened by a strange sound. I took out my army revolver just as an old man shuffled into my room. Suddenly, the man took off his beard. It was Holmes! He told me he had talked to a man who knew Todd and had gotten the valuable information.

"This man, Watson, said that Todd had been very helpful on the docks in his day and that Todd had been very interested in under-sea fish. The man added that Todd collect sea shells."

"Holmes," said I, "that doesn't seem to be very valuable."

"Everything is valuable, Watson."

That night we went to that eerie estate. Mr. Wall let us in.

Holmes stalked through the door. The open window let a warm breeze into the library. Wall and I followed.

Holmes said that there would be no second chance. We had to find how the enemy escaped and soon! Holmes ran to the bookcase. He felt around the frame until his discovered a small lever which he lifted. The gold bookcase swung open!

"Your convict got away through this. You see, do you not? The bookcase has hinges! Let us follow where this passageway leads!"

We followed the dark, dank passageway with a candle dimly lighting the bleak stone walls, until we reached a dead end. Suddenly, there was a voice behind us: "Stand perfectly still!" the man barked. "I have a bomb."

I saw a flick of light and then heard the burning sound of a fuse. I had seen such bombs in battle in Afghanistan. Within sixty seconds this bomb would go explode and, trapped within the confines of the narrow tunnel, we would all be doomed!

Holmes spun suddenly, knocking the bomb out of Maxwell's hand, and together the two started a fist fight. Meanwhile, I picked up the bomb and put out the fuse. Accidently, I dropped my revolver and Holmes grabbed it. Faced with a loaded pistol, Maxwell surrendered and told his story.

"Several years ago, Todd and I met on an old steam boat which we had boarded to go fishing. For some obscure reason I no longer even remember, we got into a fist fight. Because I have only one arm, Todd was able to knock me overboard where my handicap almost caused me to drown. As I was going under water, another steam boat happened by and I was rescued. The crew revived me, brought me ashore, and ever since I have sought my revent on Todd and his family."

"A few nights before Todd was murdered, I broke into his house, looked around and found--quite by accident--the small, rectangular lever on the bookcase. Looking within, I decided this would provide an excellent vantage point in which to hide."

"The night of the murder, I opened the window loudly because I knew that Todd would surely be the one to investigate. To insure the deed, I used a knife blade and a bullet in the heart. While Todd's brother tended to the dying man, I opened the bookcase and hid myself within.

"About five months later I noticed, while reading The Times, that a Mr. Wall--Todd's father, in fact--had inherited a great deal of money from his own father's railroad stock. I thought that the money would add to my revenge, and decided to steal if from him.

"One night I hid in the bookcase, after setting a small chipmunk free in the house. The chipmunk knocked over a vase, casuing Mr. Wall to run downstairs to find the cause of all the noise. While Mr. Wall examined the broken vase, I pinned him against the wall in precisely the same fashion I had done for his son, and shot him too in the heart. I found bags which would be put into the bank the next morning and, since I could not carry them out at that moment wihtout risking capture, I hid the bags in the passage behind the bookcase and succeeded in escaping."

"I heard rumors that you, Mr. Holmes, were on the case and knew I had very little time to recover the money before you discovered that I had committed the crimes. Tonight, I came for the money, when I heard a commotion which was caused by you gentlemen. The rest of course, you know."

After the local police had arrested Maxwell Drew, Holmes and I returned to our flat at 221b Baker Street. We had dinner--served by Mrs. Hudson, of course. During the meal I asked, "What was the clue that gave you the key to the mystery, Holmes?"

"Well, Watson, when Ian said that there had been a bang and then looked toward the open window. How could the bang have come from a window which had remained? There was no door to the outside, in fact, the only door led in the direction from which Ian Wall arrived in the study. Clearly, there had to be a secret passage. Such passages are commonplace in houses such as the Wall Estate. The most obvious location was the bookcase."

"It all seems so simple when you explain it, Holmes."

"It is simple, Watson. Of course, you must learn to see carefully and think clearly. Perhaps your association with me will eventually allow you to do so."