https://www.europesays.com/ch/60058/ Sherlock Holmes fans recreate fateful duel at Swiss falls #ArthurConanDoyle #DoctorWatson #PeterHorrocks #PhilipPorter #ProfessorMoriarty #ReichenbachFalls #SherlockHolmes #Swiss #Switzerland #VictorianCostume
#doctorwatson — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #doctorwatson, aggregated by home.social.
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Thank you, Mrs Hudson, and to you too. May the coming year be a safe year for us all.
I had never seen Holmes address our landlady in such personal terms. His voice was trembling a little. I believe I could see him wipe a tear off his eye. The unsavoury end to the pearl necklace case had hit him harder than I had first thought.
To a safe Year 2026, I said, raising my glass. We'll get through it, somehow, won't we, Sherlock.
#SherlockHolmes #DoctorWatson #MrsHudson #HolmesAndWatson #friendship
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I can't do it anymore, Watson. My brain has deserted me. You need to take the case. Lestrade will fill you in on the details.
Holmes did not wait for my reply. He locked the door behind him. A little later the monotonous tunes from his Model 15 Moog synthesiser drifted through the walls. He had rescued the machine from the raid on Moriarty's Cambridge flat.
Mrs Hudson brought the tea, one cup only. She knew. He is thinking of the Professor again, isn't he, she said in her conspiratorial voice. Poor Mr Holmes.
I leafed through Lestrade's folder on Sherlock's desk. The murder was gruesome, and there was no clue why the Bishop had visited the Jefferson Club that night.
A case! My case! I could feel the excitement of the hunt rising within me. In the printed story I would make it Holmes's work, of course, but this was mine to do.
Holmes by now had put his variations of Cohen's Joan of Arc into loop. It would be a tiring night.
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He had fallen asleep half-way through writing one of his uncounted unsent toots, his old Blackberry had dropped onto the floor. I moved him onto the sofa and called Mrs Hudson. She covered him with a blanket. His sleep was uninterruptable. For the first time I saw his face without the signs of his perennial tension.
Like a newborn, Mrs Hudson said with a sigh, as she collected the plates and cups. It's never easy for our Sir Alwaysright, is it, Mrs Hudson, I replied. We both chuckled rueful chuckles. Mrs Hudson took the plates down to the kitchen. I stayed a little longer, watching over my sleeping friend.
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Watson, pray tell me ... . Ah, never mind.
Holmes briefly had raised his head when he spoke, but he immediately turned back to his phone and continued typing his drafts. I knew these would never be sent, and he had told me they would not be saved. It was a long, gloomy night. Would we find him a new case? Where was Moriarty?
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Holmes did not appreciate being interrupted, but having watched him writing and deleting draft toot after draft toot for several hours, I could not hold back any longer. Forgive me, Holmes, tell me, do you save your unsent toots for later editing?
Holmes put aside his ancient Blackberry. Oh, my dear Watson, that you should even ask! Of course not. Lestrade no doubt saves his draft toots on his iPhone, the good man. But then he also scribbles every obvious fact into his little detective's notebook, does he not. Good for him, I say. No, Watson, I don't save deleted drafts. I have a brain.
I write because I wish to write. If I want to share what I wrote, I post it. If not, I delete it. If any part of it persists, it does so without record. Now, let me get back to my phone.
He did not mind my scribbling down his words in my notebook as he spoke.
#SherlockHolmes #DoctorWatson #Lestrade #drafts #MastodonCulture
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Holmes sat in his armchair, Moriaty's Calabash pipe next to him. He drafted Mastodon toots on his phone, all night. He wrote a draft, then deleted it. He kept drafting, then deleting, just like he played his violin in never-ending monotonicity. Not one toot was posted.
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Pinned post on @[email protected]
"Sorry, chaps, won't be posting for a while. Something happened in Folkestone, long story. Watson is taking care of the business for the moment."
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It was an unusually bright day for the time of year. The boat to Boulogne had left before we arrived. Standing at the harbour walls we could just about see it in the distance, a mere silhouette in the glistening sea.
Holmes's voice was toneless. I've missed him again, Watson, I missed him again. This was my last chance, Watson, and I lost it. He dropped himself onto the cast-iron bench by the wall and looked at me with the eyes of a helpless child.
Let's get back to London, my friend, I said. I'll fix an appointment with Doctor Wiesengrund. I know your sessions normally are only on Tuesdays, but Theodor is a good therapist, he will see you. And I'll call Lestrade and tell him that you won't be helping him in the Jughashvili case after all. You need a break. Come, Holmes, let me take you home.
#SherlockHolmes #Moriarty #Folkestone #DoctorWatson #Wiesengrund #Jughashvili #vss
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Mrs Hudson brought the tea tray, on which there also was a wooden box. A very pleasant gentleman asked to give this to you, Mr Holmes, she said. He didn't give a name and said not to disturb you.
Holmes took the box without much curiosity. Interesting cases did not usually present themselves in boxes delivered by nice gentlemen. He opened it carelessly. It was a pipe, a large Calabash with a plain meerschaum inset and silver fittings at the stem.
Holmes posture had changed; like a pointer who had smelled the bird, he stood still, his eyes fixed on the pipe in front of him. Did the gentleman wear a Bavarian felt hat, he asked. Oh, Mr Holmes, you never cease to surprise me, said Mrs Hudson cheerfully. Indeed, a green felt hat with a feather, now that you mention it. I did find it a little odd.
The Professor, Holmes whispered. He is back. Watson, take your coat, we must get the 3.42 train to Folkstone.
#MrsHudson #SherlockHolmes #DoctorWatson #Moriarty #Calabash #vss
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I had never seen Holmes cry before. He sat in his chair, his face in his hands. It's broken, he stammered. It's broken.
I saw the pipe on the table, fractured. It's a delicate material, meerschaum, I had told Holmes many times that briar is so much more practical. But Holmes said he loved the coolness of the smoke from his Calabash.
There was movement in the chair. Moriarty gave it to me, Holmes sobbed. It was a token of his affection. The last thing he left me.
I began to realise the enormity of what I had just learnt. It felt a little awkward, too. I rang the bell to call Mrs Hudson and ask her to bring the tea.
#SherlockHolmes #DoctorWatson #Moriarty #MrsHudson #pipes #meerschaum #vss
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Bluesky? Holmes looked at me with empty eyes. Oh Watson, no, I cannot take this case. My life is drowned in boredom already. Give me a proper murder case, Watson, something challenging, anything that wakes up my brain, that makes me feel alive, not something that even Lestrade can solve in half a day. The Bluesky case is for Lestrade, Watson. Lestrade will find that ...
Holmes stopped mid-sentence, his mind had moved on. He picked up his violin and played those scratchy monotonous tunes all through the night.
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You see, Watson, the door was locked from the inside. The murderer wouldn't have been able to leave the room.
So what killed the Duke? If there was ...
Boredom, Holmes interrupted me impatiently. The Duke was bored. And so am I. Frankly, I can't be bothered to find out what happened to the knife. Lestrade will come up with something to put into his report. The Duke is dead, one way or the other.
Holmes hurriedly gathered his instruments. If we leave now, we can still get onto the 11.32 to Victoria. I have a three o'clock appointment with Lord Holleyhall, in his Mayfair offices. He wants me to become a partner in his hedge fund. They have their own cook on the premises, did you know that, Watson? Holleyhall snatched him from the Deux Chevaux in Paris, he doubled his pay. The good life, Watson, the good life.
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Don't you see, Watson, Holmes concluded, the Professor is a software engineer. Hence he thinks logically. Hence there will be a reason why he placed an empty non-responsive frame at the centre of his app's interface. We have him, Watson, the useless app is proof of his intentions.
He has tweeted a lot about his vibe coding lately, I remarked.
Ah, said Holmes, his face suddenly bloodless and ashen.
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What do you see, Watson, Holmes asked impatiently. You know my methods, apply them.
Ashes, Holmes, these are tobacco ashes.
Of course they are tobacco ashes, Watson, even Lestrade could see that. Of what kind?
Cigar? ... I ventured.
Oh Holmes, yes, of course a cigar. What kind? These are blocks of unbrocken ashes, still revealing the cylindrical nature of the original cigar. The longest block is almost two inches long --- the murderer knew how to smoke a fine cigar, gently and slowly. A gentleman, Watson, a man of taste. Look here, the later blocks of ashes are thinner in diameter than the earlier ones. This was a torpedo, perfectly rolled. From the perfectly white colour of the ashes, I dare say this was a Montecristo No 2, made before the covid disruption ruined Cuban cigar production.
He turned around to our host. Lord Harris, you are a cigar aficionado, are you not? Might we pay a visit to your humidor?
#SherlockHolmes #DoctorWatson #cigars #habanos #MontecristoNo2
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You know my methods, apply them, Holmes said as he stepped into the puddle.
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Curious, isn't it, Watson, how the Duke's messages have lost all meaning since he boarded the Arcadia. They appear normal at first reading, but when you study them more closely, they turn out to be gibberish. It is clear that the Duke has been abducted. We are dealing with a very dangerous enemy, Watson.
Holmes took a deep puff from his meerschaum and looked at me through half-closed eyes.
What email system do they use on the Arcadia, I asked.
Oh Watson, what on Earth ..., they use Outlook, like everybody else. Always following the wrong trail, Watson, always on the wrong trail. Focus on the essentials, Watson, leave the bookkeeping to Lestrade.
Outlook, I asked, with Copilot enabled?
Ah, said Holmes after a long pause, putting his pipe down.
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Remarkable, Holmes said. He took a puff from his Meerschaum pipe.
You've solved the case!, cried Watson.
Yes. About one quarter Black Twist, two quarters Brown Twist, and one quarter Brown Flake. That is what makes a good smoke.
Watson put his notebook back on the table.
#SherlockHolmes #DoctorWatson #tobacco #RopeTobacco #TwistTobacco #GawithAndHoggarth #pipe
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You have noticed, Watson, have you not, that his hands show no sign of any ink stains? Curious, is it not, as he purports to be a writer.
Indeed, Holmes. I believe he uses his laptop for writing.
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For heaven's sake, Watson. Of course she was murdered in the bakery. Can't you see the flour spread all over her jacket?
Forgive me, Holmes, but might this not be some other powder? Of a very different nature, we might say?
[A lengthy pause.]
Ah, said Holmes. Indeed.
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Tonight's movie. 1939 Hounds of the Baskervilles with Basil Rathbone & Nigel Bruce as #SherlockHolmes & #DoctorWatson
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The pea-smashing scene in "Murder by Decree" is a perennial personal favorite.
#SherlockHolmes #DoctorWatson #SirChristopherPlummer #JamesMason
#FilmMastodon -
Stephen Fry reading Sherlock Holmes stories.
https://archive.org/details/sfreadingsh
(#SherlockHolmes #StephenFry #English #England #British #UK #UnitedKingdom #Murder #Mystery #Crime #MurderMystery #DoctorWatson #DrWatson)
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The young Max Byrne returns to defend cult classic #YoungSherlockHolmes this #AlterNativityStories. Did this #AmblinEntertainment film flop harder than a deerstalker hat? Or was it all a hallucination my dear #DoctorWatson? #PrepareForPrattle pod.fo/e/15576f
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#sherlockholmes #sherlock #benedictcumberbatch #johnwatson #sherlockbbc #johnlock #martinfreeman #sherlocked #bbcsherlock #cumberbatch #bakerstreet #holmes #sherlockedit #mycroftholmes #moriarty #benedict #bbakerstreet #sherlockfandom
