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A Sherlock Holmes Adventure His Last Game by John Watson MD Edited by Rick Kennedy
In due course the surly Inspector entered, bundled heavily against the wicked December cold. At Holmes’ suggestion he shed his wraps and took a seat before the fire. Lesterad, however, declined my offer of a brandy, on departmental grounds. What assistance may I offer you…?” my friend began. “Nothing of the sort,” sniffed his visitor a bit too quickly. “I merely wish to discuss a murder with you – a solved one, at that – and compare your impressions with my own. “Last night Edward Kramer was found strangled to death in his den. While the motive is as yet unclear – a large sum of money was found upon him, untouched – we are holding his butler, one Peter Morris, as the prime suspect. “Morris claims to have gone out for the evening, to his chess club. According to his account, he returned late, only to discover his deceased employer.” Lestrade smiled contentedly. “However, there were only two sets of footprints in the snow around the Kramer place: one going away, one returning, and both matching Morris’ boots. Who else could have been there?” the Inspector chuckled. “Of course,” he continued, “we also have witnesses who swear that the butler never arrived at the chess divan at Simpson’s.” I must admit I was puzzled by all this. There was nothing in Lestrade’s story that hinted of an unsolved crime. Had he apparently come all the way to Baker Street to pub about his success? Holmes was puzzled too. “Your theory, then,” he said, “was that Morris went out, turned around, returned to kill Kramer, and then reported the murder to the authorities?” “Nothing less. The body was found with a silk scarf around the neck, a few yards from a game table where the victim had been analyzing a chess game.” “Could he not have been playing with someone – the butler, perhaps?” I offered “Or another guest?” “No, my good Doctor,” returned Lestrade, obviously pleased with himself. “The chess board was set up, a game was in progress, but only one chair had been pulled over to the table. Had there been a game, Watson, there would no doubt have been two chairs.” “Actually,” he continued, “you might be interested in the position, Holmes, after your splendid notoriety at Simpson’s a while back.” Holmes glanced sharply at me, but in error, I fear. While my notes of my friend’s adventures do include some of his chess-related adventures, I had kept my word and not released anything to the public.* Lestrade must have come upon Holmes’ success through his own contacts. “I might be interested, at that,” said Holmes. “Watson, I believe Mrs. Hudson still retains her late husband’s set. Could you obtain it for us?” I disappeared downstairs for a few minutes, feeling no small relief at escaping a room that had suddenly grown chilly. Apparently neither Holmes nor Lestrade had exchanged a word in my absence, for when I returned the atmosphere appeared less than cordial. Lestrade received the pieces in a business-like manner, and set up the following position:
“Why, the White side,” fumbled Lesterade. “That is where the chair was. What difference does it make?” “Set up the pieces, Watson,” said Holmes, seeming for all the world to have forgotten Lestrade’s presence. “I would like to have a game with you. I’ll take the White army.” While this seemed hardly proper with company at hand, I followed Holmes’ lead. We both hovered over the board. Lestrade, curious but confused, watched us silently. “Is there a strategy by which I might quickly dispatch my Queen’s Knight’s Pawn, Watson?” inquired Holmes. “You have the advantage of actually having played this game for several years.” I though for several moments and then suggested a series of moves that I recalled from my days in service. “Holmes, you play 1.P-QN4. I respond 1…P-K4. After 2.B-N2, I protect my pawn with 2…P-KB3. You play 3.P-K4 and after 3…BxP the Pawn has vanished.” “Good, Watson!” said Holmes, obviously excited. “I trust this is how they play in Sumatra?** What is my objective, however?” “It is a gambit, Holmes,” I replied. “You now try 4.P-KB4, and your attack after B-QB4 and N-KB3 will be formidable.” Holmes studied the position. “Let us see, Watson. You play 4…P-Q3. I move 5.N-KB3.” As he called off the moves I scrambled to put the pieces in place. “Then, there’s 5…N-K2 and 6.N-R3. Where does that get us?” he puzzled. “Where does that get us?” mocked Lestrade, grown impatient at the side-issue of the game and fairly well livid at having lost the center of attention, once again, to Holmes. “Now comes 6…0-0,” continued Holmes, curiously unperturbed. “then 7.PxP BPxP 8.BxP PxB 9.NxP.” “No, Holmes,” said Lestrade, “that is an error.” “Hush,” muttered Holmes, resenting the intrusion. “I am replicating the mind of a criminal, not that of a chess Master, no matter how similar the two may appear.” The last series of moves allowed me a capture that I took advantage of. “The Knight goes, Holmes, with 9…BxN.” This did not faze him. Holmes pondered the position, and then said “What I need now is some temporizing. What about 10.R-QN1?” “Then with 10…N-N3 I release the power of my Queen” I noted, feeling somewhat ill at ease with my enthusiasm for a game in which I was obviously besting Holmes. “Yes!” came the reply. “Now, I play 11.B-B4+ K-R1 12.NxN+ PxN 13.R-N3 and we are about there…” It was time to end Holmes’ resistance. With a sweeping movement I placed my Queen at King’s Rook 5, delivering check. “King takes Queen, checkmate” announced Holmes, with a chuckle. He stepped back from the board with delight. “Don’t be absurd, man!” fumed Lestrade. “The King can make no such capture, as you are well aware. Do not presume upon your friend’s best nature, even in a casual game. He is not blind!” “Regardless,” persisted Holmes, “it is checkmate. And the answer to your murder, as well. “Last night Kramer had no difficulty releasing his butler to Simpson’s or wherever he journeyed. The master of the house was expecting a guest, and not the kind many would call reputable. “Let us pass over how the guest arrived. He did arrive, and he and Kramer contested a game of chess. The stranger seated himself at the table, playing White. Kramer stood across the room, with Black, playing blindfolded.” “With the murder weapon!” I exclaimed. “Precisely, Watson. As Kramer had a large sum of money with him, it can be assumed that the game was played for stakes. In fact, the sum was large enough to suggest the possibility of a ‘return match,’ the original one, perhaps, with the villain playing blindfold, as well. “You can check back at Simpson’s, Inspector,” noted Holmes, “and see if such a game occurred within a fortnight of the murder. There certainly can only be a few players skilled enough to play without sight of a board.” “If there ever was such a game, Holmes,” said Lestrade. “You weary me with your amateur assumptions. Admitted, you have been able to reproduce the position by means of a series of silly errors, but you have not yet explained that erroneous last move. And you certainly have not explained how your ‘killer’ entered or left the house.” Holmes appeared undaunted. “As Watson can tell you, Lestrade, among gentlemen, an erroneous move, if played, must be retracted, and a correct one made in its place. The only exception is if the mistake is discovered after the game has ended. Then, the move holds.” I quickly corroborated Holmes’ rendering of the rules. “It is equally true if the board has been set up incorrectly,” Holmes continued. “The murderer was able to disguise the fact that he had begun play with the positions of his King and Queen reversed by using an algebraic system of description of his moves – one reliant upon individual names for squares, not relationships to Queensides or Kingsides. Such a system is not unpopular on the Continent, especially in Eastern countries. Of course, Kramer could not see what had occurred.” “The last move, then, Holmes,” I hazarded, if I understand you, was actually 14.QxQ checkmate? Then the game was over.” “More precisely, Watson, it was ‘e1-h4,’ but you are essentially correct.” Lestrade was unsettled by this. “I never would have settled for such an ending, especially in a game for stakes! I doubt Kramer would have, either. Preposterous!” “Precisely,” followed Holmes. “I dare say that the scuffle that apparently followed the game proves you right. While Kramer removed his blindfold and was finally able to see his opponent’s duplicity, it was a maneuver too late to save himself. “Inspector Lestrade, your murderer is a foreigner, capable of playing chess without the sight of a board, a user of an unusual chess notation, a visitor to Simpson’s, apparently quick to anger – and an acrobat. If you check the high walls around the mansion, and the roof itself, you will no doubt discover footprints indicating an unusual entrance, and a speedy clandestine escape – at the time Morris returned from his sojourn.” Lestrade said very little on his way out. He appeared dazed, and the pomp with which he marched into our rooms was nowhere to be seen. I am told that the authorities made the arrest the next day.
*”The Case of the Baker Street Irregular” edited by A. Hinkle & R. Kennedy, and “The Royal Game” edited by R. Kennedy, to which Watson alludes, were discovered and published posthumously. **The meaning of this obscure reference is not disclosed by Watson, and was only uncovered by S. Tartakower many years later. (“His Last Game” appeared, in a
slightly different form, in the December 1982 issue of Chess Atlas.) Return to the Sherlock Holmes Index Read Rick's Perry the PawnPusher Stories too!
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