Sotd - Sunday - the 21st of the month -
Razor - Mergess (1.5)
blade - Aussie Spoiler (12)
brush - Semogue 1305 boar
soap - Cella tallow
post - Witch hazel
a/s - Vitos Tabacco
balm - Floid
scent - Creed Tabarome parfum.
Result - all good.
A nice bric a brac shave - using - mostly - not that expensive stuff. Cella and a boar brush - it is the law - it seems wrong to do otherwise. My 1305 is properly broken in - split tips - as soft now as any badger I own. It takes a while. The Cella is very good for me - if you don't like the smell of marzipan though - I would give it a wide berth. So - I would love to tell you more about my shave - but I don't have the space - the last part of my Sherlock Holmes pastiche follows - the big reveal. It turned out to be longer than I wanted - or expected - probably should have been cut into two parts - but you can't have a four pipe problem can you? If you can be arsed reading it - thank you - if not - no offense will be taken - skip to the next post - it will be about brushes and soaps - the stuff we are supposed to be talking about here. Yours all - I.
Part the last -
Baker Street - a quarter to seven -
‘The hour is nearly upon us Watson - we shall soon have this problem solved - interesting - quite out of the ordinary in some aspects.'
‘Shall I keep my revolver to hand?'
‘No - not this evening - we are in no danger.'
At one minute to the hour - the door bells sound - footsteps ascend - Mrs Hudson knocks twice and enters - ‘this will be the guest you were expecting gentlemen. I shall leave you.'
A woman enters - dressed entirely in black - mourning - she lifts her veil - perhaps somewhat past forty - strikingly handsome - chestnut hair held high with an ebony mantilla - eyes the colour of finest Cathay jade.
‘Buenas noches caballeros - ah - lo siento' - continuing in English - ‘good evening gentlemen. Which one of you is Sherlock Holmes?'
She has the soft lisping intonation common to those whose first language is Castilian.
Holmes bows respectfully - ‘I am Sherlock Holmes - consulting detective - and this is my friend Dr John H. Watson - and to whom do I have the honour of addressing myself?'
‘Why do you ask - you know that - why else would you have sent a telegram?' - falling silent - realising - that the trap had just sprung.
‘I sent more than one message - but I knew that the contents would only be understood by the killer of Arroyo.'
‘ I am the Condesa de Cordoba - Doña Ximena Alvarez y Gomez. You may call me Doña Ximena. So - you have the better of me Mr Holmes - what do you propose to do?'
‘Later - later - we shall come to that - please be seated - I shall tell you what I know about this case and you will do me the good grace to explain the two things I don't know?'
‘Si - Mr Holmes - as you wish. How did I give myself away?'
‘Mostly elementary - first sight indicated the killer was a woman - the hand writing - one of some substance - the quality of the paper - the script indicating expensive education. Poison is often the choice of the female assassin - a leveller between the sexes. The note intrigued me - was it code - a cypher - no - in fact a simple initialisation - gula, pereza, lujuria, enviada, avaricia, ira, soberbia. Los siete pecados capitales.'
‘I don't understand Holmes.'
Doña Ximena interjects - ‘Let me translate for you Doctor - gluttony, sloth, lust, envy, greed, wrath and pride. The seven deadly sins - each one of which committed by Arroyo.'
The great detective continues - ‘ The delivery of the poison intrigued me - Watson - you are losing your eye - you missed a small raised puncture wound on the back of the neck of the legate - it could not have been a syringe - you cannot approach a man at prayer in an empty cathedral - a stone floor - without being heard - it must have been from a distance. A blowpipe would be ideal. Common in Borneo but more so in Amazonia. Taken together - I formed the opinion that I was looking for a high-born woman, first language Spanish and recently arrived from South America. A few hours in the offices of the shipping lines left me with three candidates - of which Doña Ximena - you were one.'
‘Pray help me Condesa - I know you acted out of revenge - but revenge for what? The poison that killed him - unique in my experience.'
‘Mister Holmes - as you correctly observe - I was high born - my formative - happy - years were spend between the royal palaces of Madrid, Aranjuez and El Escorial. My father in the diplomatic service of the king - mama - a lady-in-waiting to the queen. They died within days of each other from enteric fever - shortly before my fifteenth year - being below majority - put in the care of the church as my future was being planned. Arroyo - then a lowly Father - stole my inheritance and the land due to me - contriving to have me sent to an orphanage in the New World - to hide his crime. First Mexico then Venezuela - I married well - my beloved Enrique - establishing one of the finest coffee plantations in the country - I thought little of the past - content with my new life - until last year. My husband succumbed to the complications of malaria - I still mourn for him - never would I have set myself down this route - if he lived - risking the honour of his family name. Doing business with an English coffee trader - as I was making arrangements to sell our holdings and retire to my homeland - by chance he mentioned that he was also buying for a private client who had developed a taste for the finest arabica beans - a senior churchman in London - Arroyo. The opportunity to avenge myself and my family. The rest you know.'
‘The poison?'
‘It is prepared by hunters in the rain forest - from a species of tree frog. Beautiful creatures - marked in iridescent colours - the size of a thumbnail - but containing enough toxin to kill a hundred men. Its effect is unusual - instantly - muscular paralysis - they is no opportunity to cry for help - but the victim remains conscious for a few minutes - I wanted him to look into my eyes - to understand that his past had returned to claim him. The local name translates - as - ‘the tears of god' - for reasons I'm sure you understand.'
‘That is my story Mister Holmes - and what is my fate?'
‘Watson - pass me the Bradshaw - Doña Ximena - you will understand that I have to pass - some - of my findings onto Scotland Yard - sending Inspector Jones a telegram earlier today - to say that I will be delayed by twenty four hours in reporting back - let me see - there is a boat train tonight to Paris - I recommend you take it. Thence onto the Iberian peninsula - I believe Granada has a favourable climate at this time of year? You could retire to a quiet finca thereabouts? That is all.'
‘Muchos gracias Mr Sherlock Holmes,' - leaving the room.
Watson breaks the silence between them - ‘that was a very noble thing to do - perhaps you do have a human heart?'
‘Heart - nothing - my friend - justice - yes. The Condesa was more sinned against than sinner.'
The end.
/
