Black Peter
Want to read this along with me? This essay is part of The Return of Sherlock Holmes, published in 1905. I used the epub version found on Feedbooks.com.
In the first week of July, 1895, Watson claims that Holmes was at the top of his game mentally and physically. It’s a good piece of data on Holmes’ career, as well as a great way to date this story, “Black Peter.” And for a story about Holmes at the top of his game, we certainly see a lot of old favorites played to good effect: Holmes taking on cases based on their challenger rather than because of the status or wealth of the client,1 Holmes manages one end of the investigation in disguise (and without telling Watson anything about it), and another long night-time vigil leads to the capture of a key component of the case.
But this story does bring a few new pieces to light. Watson mentions that it would be an indiscretion to even hint at some of the clients Holmes has had, and yet he name-drops the Pope.2 We find out that Holmes has five small refuges all around London in which to change into a disguise – a fact that has led to much baseless speculation among Sherlockians as to their actual locations. Watson admits that it’s not his habit to force a confidence, although he comes quite near to forcing one with Baskerville in Hound.
We also meet a new police inspector, Stanley Hopkins, “…for whose future Holmes held high hopes.” Hopkins is far more deferential and in awe of Holmes’ methods than any of the other policemen we’ve met in the canon, but Holmes is still flippant and harsh with Hopkins.
“I know your methods, sir, and I applied them. Before I permitted anything to be moved I examined most carefully the ground outside, and also the floor of the room. There were no footmarks.”
“Meaning that you saw none?”
“I assure you, sir, that there were none.”
“My good Hopkins, I have investigated many crimes, but I have never yet seen one which was committed by a flying creature.”
Over time, Hopkins becomes convinced that he’s acquired the real criminal, and Holmes moves from flippant to disappointed. Even though Hopkins eventually admits that “…I am the pupil and you are the master,” Holmes never really gives Hopkins much of a break. This relationship is interesting because it’s a contrast to the relationship Holmes has with Lestrade (in which Holmes is politely dismissive of Lestrade’s ham-fisted methods), but similar to his relationship with Watson (in which Holmes is intensely critical of any of Watson’s deductions). Holmes looks to be harder on people he sees potential in or is fond of, and more tolerant around people he thinks very little of.
There are some interesting bits of Doyle’s style to dig into here as well. He nicely sets up the vital clue of the case right at the beginning of the story, with the anecdote of Holmes attempting to stab through a pig. It’s another attempt to “play fair” with the reader, as much of the evidence that Holmes used in his deduction is available to the reader as well – a tactic commonly used in mystery novels today, but quite new and radical at the tome this was written. Conversely, the capture of Patrick Cairns is nearly identical to the capture of Jefferson Hope in A Study in Scarlet. We also get another glimpse into the workings of the Victorian Stock Exchange (the first was in “The Stock-Broker’s Clerk”), but we’re left with a sudden and unexplained trip for Holmes and Watson to Norway. Why the need for the trip? There’s a lot of confusion on that point as far as I can tell, and I don’t see a case in the canon where the reference links up to.
Also, I really like the word “ambuscade.”
It was past eleven o’clock when we formed our little ambuscade.