The case of the invisibl.., p.1
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       The Case Of The Invisible Man, p.1

           Ray Daley
 
The Case Of The Invisible Man
The Case Of The Invisible Man

  Raymond Daley

  Copyright 18/3/12 by Raymond Daley

  Notational Journal of Doctor James Watson

  Entry the first

  Lestrade and his men delivered him into my custody today. He had been caught in the middle of a robbery. As nothing had actually been removed from the premises when he was found, I managed to convince Lestrade to release him to me to place under observation. After all, who better than a Doctor to care for him.

  Sherlock Holmes.

  I hadn't seen him in almost three years now. It was well past midnight when the police carriage delivered him through the gates into this humble establishment. We brought him back to the quiet rooms, in the hope that the familiar surroundings would bring him back to some kind of grounded reality. We had known he was coming, so preparations were made for his arrival. Everything was put back exactly as he would remember it.

  He welcomed the warmth of his old white jacket, it brought him great comfort to be wearing such a favoured item again after all that time. As did seeing the familiar sign on the door of old domicile.

  221B Baker Street.

  "Just as I left it John. Mrs Hudson has been doing a wonderful job on the upkeep of the old place, please pass her my compliments" he said to me. With a little opiate, sleep came to him easily and I took my leave of him on that rainy night.

  Entry the second

  I managed to find time to visit Holmes today after morning rounds, it had been several days since we received him into our care. The staff informed me he was in absentia. Instead I spoke with Mycroft, his devoted brother. Mycroft was deeply unhappy at our having to meet in Baker Street, I recall once how he told me that he absolutely abhorred the place and felt that way of London in general. How it always made him feel tired. I took no small delight in being able to quote Doctor Samuel Johnson "Mycroft, if you are tired of London then you are tired of life".

  He confided in me that Sherlock had been extremely sick these past few years. Mycroft had been entrusted to take care of him, keeping a roof over his head as well as managing his business and financial interests. Despite his formerly brilliant mind, Sherlock had always been utterly terrible with money. Without the assistance of Mycroft he would have long since been homeless and destitute. Yet another faceless vagrant cast adrift amongst the waves in the sea of life.

  Mycroft left some papers which I promised to pass to Sherlock for his perusal and signature. I left Mycroft in extremely high spirits that day.

  Entry the third

  I was able to speak with Holmes for quite some time today, he eventually explained his absence and was most dismayed to have missed his brother. He was eager to sign the papers, I advised him there would be several treatments required to satisfy Lestrade before he could be left under his own recognizance. Holmes seemed more than a little bewildered that I was unable to stay for much longer with him.

  "I have to see my patients Sherlock. I am a Doctor, remember?" I told him. This placated him somewhat and I advised the staff of his forthcoming series of treatments. I will endeavour to oversee them if I am able to find time away from Bedlam. After this encounter I had now realised the level of his disposition, especially if he even no longer recalled my return to private practice.

  Entry the fourth

  I was advised by telegraph that Holmes responded well to his first set of treatments. The staff are most satisfied with his progress and he slept naturally for the first time since he came under our ministrations. There were some fears of interruption in the form of Mycroft but it eventually turned out that they proved to be unfounded. They reported that Holmes does show definite signs of improvement, this information pleases me greatly.

  Entry the fifth

  I was forced to visit 221B today in person after a most disturbing communique, advising me that Holmes had taken a turn for the worse. When I arrived there, Holmes was again in absentia. I had half expected to find Mycroft waiting there for me but was instead shocked to have to speak with that foul rogue James Moriarty.

  "John, it's been a long time." His over familiarity filled me with equal parts of disdain and contempt.

  "Not long enough, I'm afraid. Where is Holmes?" I was barely able to contain the bile in my tone as I asked him this.

  He gave me one of those odd stares, they always sickened me to the very core of my being. As though he was looking through your mortal soul.

  "The staff here said he stepped out a short while ago before my arrival. I decided to wait when I heard you were coming to see him. I have a few personal concerns about our mutual friend". As sincere as he tried to sound, I knew he took great pleasure in the knowledge of Holmes' illness. He had tried many times before in the past to kill Holmes, I was certain he would make an attempt again, here and now, given the opportunity. I decided to curtail this particular one before any opening presented itself.

  "I am afraid as his personal physician I must insist that you depart sir. Mister Holmes is still too unwell to be receiving guests" I said to him, my tone more than conveyed the fact that he was a most undesired guest at that. I then took my leave of him, as I could not bear to be in the mans presence a second longer than I had to.

  Entry the sixth

  Today on my arrival at 221B, the staff advised me that Moriarty had left within a few minutes of my own departure. Holmes had quickly returned and was most perturbed to hear of his unwelcome visitor. Holmes had to be heavily sedated as he had become violent. It was clear there would be no further treatment session that day. I am personally dismayed as he had been making such good progress up to this point.

  Entry the seventh

  Holmes is still heavily sedated. Nothing further to report.

  Entry the eighth

  Holmes had an hour of lucidity today while I was at 221B. All the staff here have now been thoroughly instructed never to mention Moriarty again. Holmes and I discussed a game of chess we had played together when I last saw him more than three years earlier, right here in this very room. I was very surprised to discover that he was able to recall the events in such minute detail, the moves we had both made, even down to how the light had shone through the window that day. I may progress his treatment to the next level if he is ready, he certainly seems to be so.

  Entry the ninth

  After two days of bed rest, we attempted the new therapy. He responded well, he actually knew who I was and I do honestly believe that he fully recognised his environs for what they truly are for the first time since his arrival. I have ordered a week of rest and observation before we continue with any further treatments.

  Entry the tenth

  The staff reported only one brief interruption during the prescribed rest period, a single unexpected visit from Mycroft of just one hour. As it did not appear to have overly impeded Sherlocks progress we have decided that we will intensify his treatment next time.

  Entry the eleventh

  I called in after the first two sessions at the increased rate. He seemed a little out of sorts but that was to be expected after such an intensive treatment course. We will repeat this process until further changes can be observed.

  Entry the twelfth

  We had been making great process when the staff reported yet another unexpected call from Moriarty. Again Holmes was in absentia and Moriarty was most displeased and vowed bloody murder upon him. It took the arrival of Mycroft to make Moriarty leave, much to the relief of all present. The staff secured 221B and Mycroft was asked politely but firmly to depart. When Holmes returned, he stated he did not believe Mycroft would ever return again after such indignant treatment at the hands of our staff. Holmes willingly accept
ed the opiate and remains under quiet observation.

  Entry the thirteenth

  We have returned him to the higher level of treatment. I have been unable to meet with him personally over the last few weeks but the staff speak of massive steps towards improvement. I will endeavour to make a proper house call as soon as my other work allows, here at Bedlam. I truly hope he is as well as he sounds.

  Entry the fourteenth

  Another week of higher intensity treatments has continued unabated. When I visited today, the sign on the door had been taken down, much to my relief.

  "Visiting room two today Doctor Watson?" the staff nurse asked me.

  "Yes nurse. I think we are almost ready for the final stages." she smiled as I confided my opinion to her. We were very close to the break through.

  He was seated quietly in private contemplation on the bed as I entered. No straight jacket was required today, which I was very pleased to see. At least he is no longer a danger to himself or others now. "Hello there, how are you feeling today? Do you remember my name? Or where you are?" I asked him. This was all part of the treatment and diagnosis procedure of course, his mental condition was constantly monitored for signs of change or deviation.

  "Yes Doctor Watson, of course I remember your name. I am feeling very much better, thank you for asking. I'm in the asylum again then? Did I have another episode?" he said to me calmly.

  I smiled and nodded, positive reinforcement at this stage aids him greatly towards his eventual recovery. "Yes, I'm sorry to report it was quite a serious one this time. The police found you robbing a jewellers. Fortunately they knew to bring you to me for help. I did think we had this affliction beaten three years ago but it seems like you had quite the major relapse." I told him.

  He looked a little upset, understandably so under the circumstances. We had all worked very hard the last time and had been convinced we'd achieved a cure. "Was it very bad? How many this time?" he asked.

  I was reluctant to tell him but it was clear he needed to know to aid his recovery process at this point. "All three of them, I am afraid to say."

  I can't actually say their names to him out loud, we are fairly certain they also act as trigger words that may induce his psychosis again. "One was the most dominant again, as usual. Two surfaced a few times as well, but that was to be expected. Unfortunately this time, Three was also around, I had hoped we'd gotten rid of him for good."

  One was our code for the Sherlock Holmes persona, Two was Mycroft. Three was Moriarty.

  I decided to see how grounded he felt today.

  "Can you tell me your name?" I asked him.

  "Of course Doc, I'm Eustace Grant." he said, smiling hopefully at me as he said it.

  "Just a few more weeks of observation I think Mister Grant, then we'll see if there's a bed available at the hospice for you." I tell him. This information seems to please him greatly, he likes the hospice.

  Entry the fifteenth

  Three months of close observation passes without incident and I place the call to Inspector Lestrade that I have released Marcus Phillips into the care of the hospice where he will be well looked after. Number Four had gradually faded over time thankfully, and his real personality resurfaced as rapidly as it had originally dissipated.

  Lestrade is happy enough with his cousins progress.

  Final patient journal entry.

  ____________________________________________________________

  Authors Notes:-

  This is an odd one, I'd had this Sherlock Holmes related idea in my head for a while now. I had actually mapped out a mystery story where Holmes was in fact a con man and that Watson was the one solving all the crimes. Then a little bit of internet research revealed this had in fact been done several times already.

  I didn't completely shelve that idea but put it on the back burner until yesterday. I had been thinking over time that I wasn't exactly sure what type of Doctor John Watson actually was in the books and various TV and movie portrayals.

  Wikipedia says he was an MD, no speciality.

  I felt this gave me grounds to explore my idea that Sherlock Holmes was in fact nothing more than a mental patient who Watson was caring for. That evolved into the idea that "Holmes" was actually the product of a deranged mind suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder.

  The final twist of him being Lestrade's cousin in real life was that extra cherry on top that just made this feel right.

  This was an unusual development process for me, as I wrote this entire first draft in longhand on a notepad, giving myself rather bad carpal tunnel syndrome in the process as I hadn't done any long hand writing for such a long time.

  I hope you appreciate how I suffered to bring this story to life, I really feel like it works well.

  On a final point, mental illness is not a trivial thing, it's a serious issue. It is not my intent to lampoon mental illness in any way here, merely how seriously Sherlock Holmes can be seen as a character sometimes.

 
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