Read Charles Doyle & The Curious Case of the Blue Dog _part 1 - A New Mystery Calls Page 1
Charles Doyle & The Curious Case of the Blue Dog
Part 1 –A New Mystery Calls
M.M.Wake
Copyright M.M.Wake 2015
It was a grey raw morning towards the end of February, several months since my first mis-adventure with that dreadful case involving the Midnight Terror. I found myself sat at a cold breakfast with little appetite. The coming of winter had unsettled me, returning suddenly with its cold days and black nights. Those weeks with Doyle had taken on a fictional quality and looking back to that time it was now hard to discern fact from fiction, my dreams from reality. I now even doubted that I had seen the ghost of Doyle’s brother on that last visit, my nerves obviously by then had been altogether shot through and had probably got the better of me.
In fact I hadn’t settled at all these last few months. The case and my involvement had come to pray on my mind. I started to dream of Doyle and the murderous goings on and it was these visions that skipped from my head and into my scribbling:
Excerpt from ‘Loves Ruin’*
O Soul, oh heart that freezes, heart that yearns,
Debased to earth returns
To murderous pleasure, greed and whim,
Now lost within
Too soon their reckless path will fall
Love is all
Since the small success with my poem ‘Ode to Winter’ in ‘The London Academy Literature’ publication I had received no further offers. Perhaps my father had been right from the start about my writing.
It was with these miserable musings that I sat with my tepid tea, my eyes scanning the daily newspaper when my eyes were suddenly drawn to a small article on the front page.
'Police baffled by curious case of the blue dog'
I read on:
Police at Greenwich are baffled by the washed up body of a blue terrier found on the banks of the Thames near Greenwich on Monday evening. Several dogs in the local area have been reported missing over the last month and police believe there may be a link to this case. Investigations continue.
I had just finished reading when Mrs Jenkins knocked on my door before bustling into the room in her usual cheery way to clear away my breakfast plate. In her hand she held a small white envelope. Smiling knowingly she passed me the missive.
‘From your gentleman friend’, she nodded. ‘It must have been delivered just after I brought you your breakfast’. I took the note and looked back at Mrs Jenkins who was waiting expectantly for some piece of gossip or such. I smiled and held the door at arm’s length to allow her to go through. With some hesitation she sighed and gathered up the dishes. As she passed through she turned her head and smiled ‘Perhaps you won’t be as dreary now dear’ and went quickly across the corridor and down the stairs,
I looked at the envelope in my hands, there was no mistake, this was indeed for the hand of Major Charles Doyle. I could feel my heart start to thud as I tore at the paper. The note was brief, his usual style
Dinner 19:30. Tonight!
C. Doyle.
Forever giving the orders. At once the day seemed to brighten and I rushed to the top of the stairs and shouted out with a new fervour for Mrs Jenkins to press my one good shirt.
As the day wore on my excitement grew to apprehension for it seemed an age since I had last conversed with Doyle and I felt a schoolboy shyness creep over me. I had been ready and waiting for hours before I finally stepped out of the house, I checked by pocket watch and it was just before half past 6. The wind was particularly chilly this night and I wrapped the scarf more closely around me. My good tweed suit was now coming into its own, but even in jacket and long coat I could feel the icy blast pluck at my skin. I hastened quickly along the dark street to the light of the underground and I was soon at my destination, making my way slowly up the hill towards Doyle’s house.
My face felt numb in the oncoming wind and I hugged my coat for further warmth, my finger ends now frozen in the woolen gloves that Mrs Jenkins had kindly knitted me in motherly fashion. I am not sure if it was the rapid plunge into darkness from the lit underground, but I suddenly felt unnerved and had the overwhelming feeling that somebody or something was behind me. I hastened on only to pause briefly before I reached his house. The hairs on the back of my neck were prickling, my hackles raised. I looked around. Only the shadows of the tree’s dimly caught in the low lamp light looked back. Shrugging my shoulders against the cold air I marched up to Doyle’s door and gave a sharp rap to the door knocker to announce my arrival.
Within seconds the door was open and a warm draft of air escaped and rose into the night. Mrs Brown stood beaming at me and welcoming, ushering me inside with one hand whilst taking my coat with the other. Although a good foot shorter than I she reached up and gave me a great hug. ‘Oh Sir, it is good to see you again, the Major is in his study, the fires have been lit, now go and get yourself warm'. She ushered me to the study door before bustling back down the corridor to the kitchen, from where I could already smell the beginnings of a delicious meal.
I carefully pushed open the door of the study, not quite sure what to expect after my first visit. The room was bathed in a warm light, the only lamp being at the far side of the room, the rest of the light being provided by a glorious fire.
The room was empty, Doyle was nowhere to be seen. I shouted his name once or twice but with no answer. Aware that I was slightly shivering from the cold I made my way across the Indian rug to the fireplace. I must have only walked a matter of two steps when a great yell sounded from the doorway and I was pushed roughly across the room and landed quite unceremoniously across the great leather chesterfield. Shaken and somewhat dazed I tried to right myself only to find that I was being pressed down by some sort of stick. Looking up and beyond the walking stick (which I could now see) was the face of Major Charles Doyle grinning down on me, with those piercing eyes I had thought so much about these last few months.