‘I must apologize both for my appearance and the lateness of the hour, gentlemen, and yet I am certain that once I have explained my situation you will surely bear me forgiveness.’
Holmes smiled sympathetically towards him and waved him towards a spare seat.
‘Mr Crosby, please explain to me in precise detail the true nature of your predicament and how you consider that I might be of assistance to you,’ Holmes requested quietly.
Clearly uncomfortable in these surroundings and incommoded by his personal circumstances and attire, Crosby repeatedly shifted nervously on the edge of his seat.
‘Calm yourself, Mr Crosby,’ Holmes kindly reassured him. ‘Perhaps a glass of Cognac and a Dutch panatella might go some way towards easing your nerves,’ he suggested, indicating to me that I should supply these aids.
Crosby gratefully received both the drink and cigar. He bowed his head. ‘Both very fine indeed, gentlemen.’
‘Mr Crosby, you have evidently been both raised and educated as a gentleman. Perhaps you might find it easier to begin by explaining how you have come to your present circumstance.’ Holmes proposed.
‘That will prove to be easier than you might think. Whilst it is true that my upbringing was very much as you have suggested, it was also obvious, from a very early age, that it would not always be so.’ Crosby drew upon his cigar and sipped from his glass before continuing.
‘In order that you might not preconceive any judgement upon my family, I should immediately point out that they had experienced much anguish and no little expense in determining both my condition and how best to cope with its consequences.’
Observing my own quizzical glance at the mention of the word ‘condition’ Crosby directed his next words in my direction. ‘Even allowing for your vast knowledge and experience, Dr Watson, I am certain that not even you will have heard of “Solar Urticaria”.’
‘Upon my word, I have not!’ I exclaimed, whilst making my way towards the small remnant of my medical library that still remained in Baker Street.
Crosby called me to a halt. ‘Do not trouble yourself, Doctor, for I can assure you that my own experience has given me a knowledge of the condition that will far exceed anything that your learned volume might provide. As its very name suggests, “Solar Utricaria” is aggravated by exposure to direct sunlight. Even bright daylight might produce an effect on the skin.’
Having sensed Crosby’s hesitation Holmes prompted: ‘And what effect is this, Mr Crosby?’
‘Monstrous large red welts, the size of leeches, immediately form on every unprotected surface of my skin the very instant that it is exposed to natural light. The effect that this apparition had on any observer soon made it obvious to my parents that it would be impossible for me to leave the confines of our home during the hours of daylight.’
‘Good Lord, how awful!’ I exclaimed. ‘Of course, that would explain your unusually pale complexion.’
‘Indeed.’ Crosby gravely acknowledged my comment with a slow nodding of his head, ‘Due to the fact that these welts are slow to disappear, socializing, of every description was impossible. I was even educated at home! My beloved parents employed the very best private tutors who taught me well in every subject. However as I grew older I came to realize that the strain of the burden upon my parents, both emotionally and financially, was proving too great to bear. This despite the fact that they took great pains to conceal it.’ Crosby then paused for a moment to draw gratefully upon his cigar and to sip at his brandy.
‘Their love and compassion knew no bounds. So I then resolved to spare them further heartbreak by taking my leave of the family home. My brother, Nathaniel, was proving a great success at his chosen career of banking and I was certain that he would prove to be a great comfort to them as they mourned my departure.
‘Therefore, at the age of thirty-two, with but a few possessions and a little allowance money that I had managed to save, I found myself in an outside world of which I had very little knowledge and experience. In order to avoid the attentions of those whom my parents might set to finding me, I resolved to travel. I managed to ingratiate myself with the owners of a small travelling carnival that was, fortuitously, heading towards the West Country. I kept my head covered during the day and worked with the keeper at feeding and cleaning out the various creatures that formed part of the show. The owners, Mr and Mrs Josiah Smythe of Blackheath, were most kind to me and gave me board and a small allowance for my efforts. However there were two caravan drivers, with a leaning towards drink, whose curiosity as to my covered head was becoming increasingly difficult to ward off.
‘I had two friends among the workers with the carnival. A young lad called Tom, who had an unusually small head; he was one of the sideshow attractions under the moniker of “Pin Head”. The other was the animal keeper, “Old Ben”, an elderly fellow, from the East End of London who was half-blind. These two tried to shelter me from the attentions of the two unsavouries. However, I found myself alone one morning with the horses, and during the course of a violent scuffle with the drivers I found my head covering removed and my awful secret was exposed.
‘The drivers took great pains to reveal my appearance to all in the camp and I was resolved upon making a hasty departure, when the Smythes made me an unusual proposal.
‘Business had become quite slack of late, so they suggested that I should share his enclosure with Tom and appear as the “Red Leech”. In this way I should become one of the sideshow attractions. The idea of becoming a fairground freak appalled me at first, as you might well imagine.’
He paused for a moment, scanning our faces for signs of understanding and, perhaps, a little sympathy. I looked across at Holmes and was amazed to observe how intently my friend was gazing into the eyes of our tragic client. The man’s obvious pain was mirrored in the eyes of the habitually ice-cold Sherlock Holmes.
Then, as if remembering himself, he suddenly straightened up and remarked: ‘Although your story has a certain poignancy about it I would now appreciate it if you could proceed to the crux of the matter, Mr Crosby. You might begin by explaining why you agreed to become the “Red Leech”.’
Understandably taken aback by Holmes’s biting outburst, Crosby apologetically cleared his throat and stumbled over his first few words.
‘I could see that Tom had never been maltreated or humiliated; indeed he even regarded the carnival as a form of refuge from the somewhat harsher treatment he might have expected from the world outside. Therefore I resolved to accept the offer that I had received from the Smythes. The arrangement suited both parties; for a time. I was content with my modest accommodation and keep and the “Red Leech” was proving to be a popular and profitable attraction for the Smythes, which pleased me also. It all ended somewhat abruptly, however, when I chanced upon a week-old copy of the Times.
‘Therein, gentlemen, almost hidden in a column listing recent deaths was the first intimation that I had received of my parent’s untimely passing. They had always been keen explorers and, as a consequence, were aboard a small steam transport, which had been wrecked but a few miles off the East African coast. No trace of them or their belongings were ever recovered.
‘I decided to return to London at once, there to seek out my brother for more information than the newspaper afforded and to discuss any family arrangements that might concern me. Ben, the old animal keeper, kindly accompanied me, as he knew of a small basement room in a run-down old building near Brick Lane. He offered to run any urgent errands that could only be accomplished in daylight. I had no great difficulty in finding my brother, as he had yet to vacate the family home, and I found his welcome somewhat warmer than I might have expected. However, he reluctantly informed me at the outset, that my parents had been so convinced either of my death or my inability ever to return to them, that no provision had been made for me in their final will.