Editor’s Introduction: “Whatever Remains . . . .”

by David Marcum

People like mysteries. We read books about them. We watch films and television shows about them. We look for them in real life. The daily unfolding of the news—What’s the real story? What is the truth behind these events that I’m following? What will happen next? What will tomorrow bring?—is just another form of mystery.

Some people claim that they don’t like mystery stories, instead preferring other genres. But consider for instance how often a mystery figures in a science-fiction story. I’ve been a Star Trek fan since I was two or three years old in the late 1960s and saw an Original Series episode on television, and I can say for sure that many—if not most—Star Trek television episodes or films have strong elements of mystery somewhere within the story, and in most cases the characters serve as detectives, leading us from the unknown puzzle at the beginning of the story to the solution at the end, working step-by-step and clue-by-clue to find out what happened, or to identify a hidden villain. Is that harmless old actor really Kodos the Executioner? How exactly does Edith Keeler die? Why does God need a starship?

To extend the Sci-Fi theme a bit: I don’t like Star Wars, although I guess that one way or another I’ve seen just about all of it, so I’m certainly aware of the mysterious elements throughout the story. What did the hints imply about Luke’s father, before the answer was provided? What exactly was the emperor up to before all was revealed? Who are Rey’s parents? It’s all a mystery, cloaked in space battles and pseudo-religion Force-chatter and light-sabre fights. In Dune, which I do like, mysteries abound as the story unfolds, with questions that must be answered, followed by more questions. These stories may not be a typical “mystery story”—a murder or a jewel theft, with a ratiocinating detective or a lonely private eye making his way down the mean streets, but they are mysteries none-the-less.

Look at other genres: Romance books and films? Who is the tall dark stranger, and how can his background be discovered by the heroine, layer-by-layer, using detective-like methods? The Dirk Pitt books by Clive Cussler, along with books about Pitt’s associates “co-authored” by others, are most definitely mysteries, although clothed in incredible world-shaking plots. (I’ve lost track of the Sherlockian references that continually pop up in the adventures of Pitt and his friends.) The original James Bond books, before Bond became so currently complicated and far from his origins, were each labelled as A James Bond Mystery. Stephen King, known for his supernaturally-tinged masterpieces, writes stories that are full of mysteries, and sometimes with actual detectives, showing just how much influence that the early mystery writers like John D. MacDonald had on him. Television shows like Lost or Dallas or How I Met Your Mother respectively asked questions like What is the Island? or Who shot J.R? or Who is the mother? None of these were specifically mysteries, and they are draped in all sorts of other trappings—time-shifting castaways, oil-baron shenanigans, or a typical sit-com group’s antics—but the plot points that drive the shows are no different than what would be found in a mystery story. It’s the same for stories that are nominally for kids like Gravity Falls or A Series of Unfortunate Events ask What’s Grunkle Stan’s story? and What’s up with that ankle tattoo and the VFD?

And liking mysteries is just a step away from pondering greater unknowns. It’s a human trait, as shown in cultures around the world. No matter what place, and no matter what era, we find stories of ghosts, and monsters, and questions raised about the nature of death, and whether there is more going on all around us than can ever perceived. It was that way thousands of years ago, when mankind squatted in caves around fires, waiting for the dangerous night outside to pass, and it’s that way right now, as we hide in our fragile constructs of civilization and wires and thin walls and fool ourselves into believing that we’ve pushed back the night. (Look around. We haven’t. The night is here.)

The Victorian Era, with its rapid strides in scientific knowledge, brought science crashing up against superstition and religion and spiritualism. Scientists had been gaining an understanding of the workings of the universe, and our little speck of it, for decades—chemistry, physics, astronomy, and so on—but the means for spreading that knowledge and educating the ignorant was very limited. Many people still lived much as their ancestors had a hundred years before, or longer, close to the land and nature, and uninterested in explanations about weather patterns or how atoms and molecules interacted. It was much easier to rely on superstitious explanations for natural phenomena, in the same way that the ancient Greeks and Romans had created their gods to explain the sun and moon and lightning. In daylight, all might be rational and modern, but when the sun went down, it was much easier to believe that there was something out there . . . .

The Victorians were gradually becoming educated, but the skin of knowledge was still thin, which allowed such things as the fascination with death and the spiritualism crazes of the late 1800’s to take such a strong hold, even luring in those who wouldn’t be thought to be so gullible—Dr. Watson’s first Literary Agent, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, for example. It’s common knowledge how he ruined his reputation during his later years by going over so whole-heartedly to the spiritualists. Additionally, he was shamed for his avid and naïve support of the Cottingley Fairies hoax. It can be taken as a fact that Mr. Sherlock Holmes, indirectly associated with Sir Arthur by way of Dr. John H. Watson’s writings, was not happy that his reputation might be linked to such foolishness. Fortunately, there is ample evidence that Holmes forsook neither his beliefs nor his dignity.

Many people brought cases to Holmes throughout his career that seemed to have hints of the supernatural or the impossible about them. A few of these were published by way of the Literary Agent: “The Creeping Man” begins with the story of a girl’s father who is seemingly changing into some sort of beast. “The Sussex Vampire” finds a woman accused of sucking the blood from her own baby. “The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge” has voodoo intruding into the supposedly modern English countryside. And of course there is The Hound of the Baskervilles, in which a curse from centuries past seems to have reawakened, killing a respected Dartmoor resident and threatening to destroy his heir as well.

These tales are part of the pitifully few sixty adventures that make up the The Canon. It contains references to many other “Untold Cases”, some of which have seemingly impossible aspects—a giant rat and a remarkable worm and a ship that vanishes into the mist. We can be sure that Holmes handled each of these with his customary excellence, and that any sort of supernatural explanation that might have been encountered along the way was debunked. For Holmes, the world was big enough, and there was no need for him to serve as a substitute Van Helsing.

Holmes’s stated his rule, with minor variations, for getting to the bottom of seemingly impossible situations several times within The Canon:

Thus, the first part of the process is actually eliminating the impossible. And to a man with a scientific and logical mind such as Sherlock Holmes, this means that the baseline is established that “No ghosts need apply.” So Holmes explains to Watson at the beginning of “The Sussex Vampire”, asking, “. . . are we to give serious attention to such things? This agency stands flat-footed upon the ground, and there it must remain. The world is big enough for us.”

If Holmes were to start every investigation with all possibilities as available options, including those beyond our human understanding, he would be finished before he even started. Imagine Holmes saying, “This man may have been murdered—or he may have been possessed by a demon, overwhelming the limits of his body and simply causing him to expire. I’ll sent you my bill.” Think of the time wasted if Holmes were an occult detective, with nothing considered impossible, all possibilities on the table, and virtually nothing that could be eliminated in order to establish whatever truth remains. The Literary Agent, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, was willing to accept ridiculous claims about spiritualism and fairies and all sorts of nonsense. Not so for Sherlock Holmes—and thank goodness.

That’s not to say that Holmes was closed-minded. There were many intelligent men in the Victorian and Edwardian eras who mistakenly believed that all that could be discovered had been discovered—but Holmes wasn’t one of them. There is an apocryphal tale where Charles H. Duell, the Commissioner of U.S. patent office in 1899, stated that “everything that can be invented has been invented.” In A Study in Scarlet, while discussing crime, Holmes himself paraphrased Ecclesiastes 1:9 when he told Watson, “There is nothing new under the sun. It has all been done before.” And yet, with a curious scientific mind and an exceptional intelligence, Holmes would have certainly realized that there was more to be discovered, and that things are always going on around us that are beyond what we can necessarily perceive or understand—invisible forces and patterns of interaction on a grand scale beyond our comprehension. In relation to his own work, Holmes explained:

“. . . life is infinitely stranger than anything which the mind of man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and peep in at the queer things which are going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, working through generations, and leading to the most outrè results, it would make all fiction with its conventionalities and foreseen conclusions most stale and unprofitable.”

Thus, in spite of his statements that “[t]here is nothing new under the sun” or “the world is big enough”, Sherlock Holmes would have been open-minded enough to realize that—with our limited perspectives—the impossible isn’t always easily eliminated when identifying the truthful improbable.

Sometime in late 2016, when these MX anthologies were showing signs of continued and increasing success, it was time to determine what the theme would be for the Fall 2017 collection. When I had the idea for a new Holmes anthology in early 2015, it was originally planned to be a single book of a dozen or so new Holmes adventures, probably published as a paperback. By the fall of that year, it had grown to three massive simultaneous hardcovers with sixty-three new adventures, the largest collection of its kind ever—until we surpassed that in the spring of 2019 with sixty-six stories, and a total of nearly four-hundred.

Initially, in 2015, I thought that it would be a one-time event. But then people wanted to know when the next book would appear, and authors—both those in the original collection and others who hadn’t been—wanted to contribute more stories. So of course the original plan was amended, and it became an ongoing series.

It was announced that a fourth volume would be published in the Spring of 2016, Part IV: 2016 Annual—with the word “Annual” confidently assuming that it would be a yearly event. But there was such great interest by participating authors that I realized a Fall collection in that same year was necessary, beginning a pattern of two collections per year that has continued to the present—an “Annual” in the spring and a themed set in the autumn. And so I announced and began to receive stories for Part V: Christmas Adventures, published later in 2016.

These types of books have to be planned with plenty of advance notice for authors to actually write the stories. So halfway through 2016, the book for the following Spring, Part XVI: 2017 Annual, was announced, and very soon it was necessary to figure out what the Fall 2017 collection’s theme would be.

That came to me while I was mowing my yard, where I do some of my best thinking. We have 2/3’s of an acre, and I still have a push-mower, so that’s good for a couple of hours of intense perspiration and pondering. And on that day, I had only been mowing for five or ten minutes when the idea of Eliminate the Impossible popped into my mind.

That title, Eliminate the Impossible, had been used before by Alistair Duncan for an MX book in 2010, something of a catch-all examination of Holmes in both page and screen. (In fact, this was the first Sherlockian title published by MX, and look what that led to!) This new anthology, however, would feature stories wherein Holmes’s cases initially seemed to have supernatural or impossible aspects, but would absolutely have to have rational explanations—“No ghosts need apply.” And yet, after the rational solution was explained and the case resolved, it would be acceptable if there was perhaps a hint that something more was going on beyond Our Heroes’ understanding. I explained by paraphrasing Hamlet when soliciting stories from the various authors: “There are more things in heaven and earth, [Watson], Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” For instance, after the culprit is revealed, and Holmes and Watson could be departing, the investigation complete. Watson might look back and see . . . something impossible.

“Holmes,” (he might say.) “Do you see it?”

“It is nothing, Watson,” (would be Holmes’s reply.) “Mist. A mere trick of the light.”

“But still . . . .”

And so the rational ending would be preserved, but the idea that there are more things in heaven and earth would be possible as well.

When I had the idea for the theme of the first MX collection of this sort, 2017’s Eliminate the Impossible, I wasn’t sure how it would go. I received a bit of sarcastic push-back from one person who referred to this as a “Scooby Doo book”. I was disappointed at his reaction, and I’m glad to report that the success of both simultaneous volumes of Eliminate the Impossible proved that his assessment was incorrect.

Still, a few people were surprised that I would encourage a book of this sort. They shouldn’t have been. I make it very clear that I’m a strict Holmesian traditionalist. I want to read more and more Canonical-type stories about Holmes and Watson—and nothing whatsoever never ever in any form about “Sherlock and John”!—with no parodies or anachronisms or non-heroic behaviors. That’s what I collect, read, chronologicize, write, and edit, and also what encourage in others as well. There have been many times when I’ve started reading a new Holmes story, only to realize that, no matter how authentic the first part is, the end has veered off into one-hundred-percent no-coming-back supernatural territory—Holmes is battling a real monster, or facing a full-fledged vampire or wolfman, or perhaps a brain-eating fungus from another planet. There is a misguided belief that, just because someone wishes it to be so, Holmes can be plugged in anywhere like Doctor Who, or that he’s is interchangeable with Abraham Van Helsing—and he most definitely is not.

As someone who has collected, read, and chronologicized literally thousands of Canonical Holmes adventures for almost forty-five years—and that certainly passed quickly!—I’m dismayed when this happens. As I make notes for each story to be listed in the massive overall Canon and Pastiche chronology that I’ve constructed over the last quarter-century, I generally indicate when a story has included “incorrect” statements or segments, and I include notes identifying those parts that were really and truly written by Watson, as compared with paragraphs or pages or chapters that were clearly composed and added by some later editor who has taken Watson’s notes and either changed parts, or stuck in completely fictional middles and endings to fulfil his or her own agenda. Sometimes the story goes so far off into the weeds that even pulled-out pieces of it can’t be judged as authentically Watsonian, and the whole thing is lost.

But the stories of Eliminate the Impossible—and now this collection as well—are fully traditional in the best Canonical way.

The idea of a story where Holmes and Watson were presented with circumstances that initially seemed supernatural but ended up having a rational solution was not new, and I can claim no originality for thinking of it. Before those volumes in the ongoing MX series appeared in late 2017—Eliminate the Impossible Part VII (1880–1891) and Part VIII (1892–1905)—there were many other tales of that type. In my foreword to Eliminate the Impossible, I listed a number of them, and since then there have been more. As I explained then, there are far too many stories of that type to catalogue in this essay . . . but here are some of them for friends of Mr. Holmes to locate.

First, I have to recommend the stories in Eliminate the Impossible, Parts VII and VIII of this ongoing anthology series. They are some of the finest Sherlockian adventures to be found, and Publishers Weekly wrote of the two volumes: “Sherlockians eager for faithful-to-the-canon plots and characters will be delighted” and “The imagination of the contributors in coming up with variations on the volume’s theme is matched by their ingenious resolutions.” Other MX anthologies in this series also have stories along these lines, although they are mixed in with more general Canonical adventures, in the way that “The Sussex Vampire” and “The Creeping Man” were included with Holmes’s other non-outrè investigations.

While assembling the three-volume set that immediately preceded this current collection, the Spring 2019 Annual, containing general Canonical tales in Part XIII: (1881–1890), Part XIV (1891–1897), and Part XV (1898–1917), I received a number of stories that could have just as easily fit into this current collection. I considered whether I should contact the contributors and see if they wished to hold those stories for publication in this Fall 2019 collection, Whatever Remains . . . Must Be the Truth (Parts XVI, XVII, and XVIII), but in the end decided to go ahead and use them in Parts XIII, XIV, and XV instead. And I’m glad that I did, because the inclusion of those narratives in the Spring 2019 books made for a really excellent set of adventures.

Among the many other places that one can find Holmes stories—some full-on supernatural and some that fit my own requirements—are The Irregular Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Ron Weighell (2000), Ghosts in Baker Street (2006), the Lovecraftian-themed Shadows Over Baker Street (2003), and the ongoing Gaslight series edited by Charles Prepolec and J.R. Campbell. These titles include, Gaslight Grimoire (2008), Gaslight Grotesque (2009), Gaslight Arcanum (2011), and most recently Gaslight Gothic (2018). John Linwood Grant is editing a forthcoming book in which Holmes will team with noted occult detectives, such as Thomas Carnacki, or tangentially with Alton Peake, an occult investigator of my own invention who has appeared in some of my Holmes narratives, although always off-screen.

Holmes battled the supposedly supernatural in countless old radio shows, including “The Limping Ghost” (September 1945), “The Stuttering Ghost” (October 1946), “The Bleeding Chandelier” (June 1948), “The Haunting of Sherlock Holmes” (May 1946), and “The Uddington Witch” (October 1948). An especially good radio episode with supernatural overtones was “The Haunted Bagpipes” by Edith Meiser, (February 1947), later presented in comic form as illustrated by Frank Giacoia, and then again adapted for print by Carla Coupe in Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine (Vol. 2, No. 1, 2011)

And of course, one mustn’t forget the six truly amazing radio episodes of John Taylor’s The Uncovered Casebook of Sherlock Holmes (1993), and then published soon after as a very fine companion book. Then there’s George Mann’s audio drama “The Reification of Hans Gerber” (2011), later novelized as part of Sherlock Holmes: The Will of the Dead (2013).

In addition to numerous radio broadcasts, there were similar “impossible” films with Holmes facing something with other-worldly overtones, including The Scarlet Claw (1944) and Sherlock Holmes (2009). Television episodes have tackled this type of story. The old 1950s television show Sherlock Holmes with Ronald Howard had “The Belligerent Ghost”, “The Haunted Gainsborough”, and “The Laughing Mummy”. The show was rebooted in 1980 with Geoffrey Whitehead as Holmes, and had an episode called “The Other Ghost”.

In 2002, Matt Frewer starred as Holmes in the supernatural-feeling The Case of the Whitechapel Vampire. Nearly a decade earlier, Jeremy Brett performed in a pastiche that was loosely tied to “The Sussex Vampire” entitled The Last Vampyre (1993). The supernatural elements were greatly played up in that film, although it had a rational ending. Brett’s performance was extremely painful to watch, as at that point he had foisted his own personal illnesses—both mental and physical—so heavily onto his portrayal of Holmes and there was really nothing of Holmes left, but other aspects of the film were tolerable, if one looks past the acting and accepts that this was a separate story entirely from “The Sussex Vampire”.

Brett’s tenure as Holmes limped to an end the following year, and since that time, except for a few stand-alone films—three more Matt Frewer adaptations, a curiously odd and unpleasant version of The Hound of the Baskervilles (2002) starring Richard Roxburgh, a mild effort starring Jonathan Pryce called Sherlock Holmes and the Baker Street Irregulars (2007), and Rupert Everett’s emotionless Holmes in The Case of the Silk Stocking (2007)—there have been no other versions of Sherlock Holmes on television whatsoever. (It’s hoped that Holmes will return to television sooner rather than later, since it’s been a very long time since 1994, when the last Holmes series was on television—not counting a few Russian efforts—and it’s sure that when he does, a few seemingly supernatural stories will certainly be included as part of the line-up.)

In print, there are many other examples of this type of story. From the massive list of similarly themed fan-fictions, one might choose “The Mottled Eyes”, “The Case of the Vengeful Ghost”, “The Japanese Ghost”, “The Adventure of the Grasping Ghost”, “Sherlock Holmes and the Seven Ghosts”, “The Adventure of the Haunting Bride”, “The Problem of the Phantom Prowler”, That Whiter Host, or “The Vampire’s Kiss”. There are countless novels, such as the six short works by Kel Richards, or Val Andrews’ The Longacre Vampire, or Draco, Draconis by Spencer Brett and David Dorian. One shouldn’t ignore the narratives brought to us by Sam Siciliano, narrated by Holmes’s annoying cousin Dr. Henry Vernier, all featuring supposedly supernatural encounters. Check out Bonnie MacBird’s second Holmes adventure, Unquiet Spirits, and David Wilson’s Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Edinburgh Haunting. Then there are several by David Stuart Davies, including The Devil’s Promise, The Shadow of the Rat, and The Scroll of the Dead. One can read Carol Buggé’s The Haunting of Torre Abbey and Randall Collins’ The Case of the Philosopher’s Ring, and the different sequels to The Hound, including Rick Boyer’s most amazing The Giant Rat of Sumatra, Teresa Collard’s The Baskerville Inheritance, and Kelvin Jones’ The Baskerville Papers.

Holmes has battled Count Dracula in too many encounters to list, but in almost every one of them, he finds himself ridiculously facing a real undead Transylvanian vampire who can change into a bat. Often, Holmes is simply inserted into the Van Helsing role within the plot of the original Dracula story. Although I own each of these, I’ve always ignored them, as the real historical Holmes would never encounter an imaginary creature such as this. The one exception so far that I’ve enjoyed and been able to finish has been Mark Latham’s remarkable A Betrayal in Blood—finally, a Holmes-Dracula encounter that I can highly recommend.

A list of this sort is really too long to compile, and this shouldn’t be taken as anywhere close to the last word. There are numerous supposedly impossible circumstances or supernatural encounters of one sort or another contained in many Holmes collections, tucked in with the more “normal” cases, and these are but a few of them:

In the spring of 2018, it was time once again to start planning for the 2019 MX anthologies, and again while I was mowing—in pretty much the same spot, so there must be something buried there that radiates some kind of beneficial mind-influencing waves—I had the idea for these current books. If Eliminate the Impossible had been so successful, why not do it again? And what else could it be called but a variation from the same Holmesian maxim?

The three companion volumes that make up Whatever Remains . . . Must Be the Truth, like those in Eliminate the Impossible, contain stories where Holmes faces ghosts and mythological creatures, impossible circumstances and curses, possessions and prophecies, Some begin with the impossible element defined from the beginning, while others progress for quite a while as “normal” cases before the twist is revealed. Some are overt encounters with supposed monsters or phantoms, while others are more subtle, pondering the nature of existence and the vast patterns around us that we cannot perceive. As with all Holmes adventures, this collection represents one of the great enjoyments of reading about The Great Detective—the reader never knows where each tale will lead. And while each of the adventures in these volumes is categorized by Holmes eliminating the impossible to obtain, however improbable, the truth, the various impossibilities contained within these covers are presented in an incredibly varied and exciting manner. I’m certain that you will enjoy all of them.

As always, I want to thank with all my heart my patient and wonderful wife of thirty-one years (as of this writing,) Rebecca, and our amazing son and my friend, Dan. I love you both, and you are everything to me!

Also, I can’t ever express enough gratitude for all of the contributors who have donated their time and royalties to this ongoing project. I’m constantly amazed at the incredible stories that you send, and I’m so glad to have gotten to know all of you through this process. It’s an undeniable fact that Sherlock Holmes authors are the best people!

The contributors of these stories have donated their royalties for this project to support the Stepping Stones School for special needs children, located at Undershaw, one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s former homes. As of this writing, these MX anthologies have raised over $50,000 for the school, and of even more importance, they have helped raise awareness about the school all over the world. These books are making a real difference to the school, and the participation of both contributors and purchasers is most appreciated.

Next is that group that exchanges emails with me when we have the time—and time is a valuable commodity these days! I don’t get to write as often as I’d like, but I really enjoy catching up when we get the chance: Derrick Belanger, Bob Byrne, Mark Mower, Denis Smith, Tom Turley, Dan Victor, and Marcia Wilson.

A special shout-out to Tracy Revels, Arthur Hall, and Kelvin Jones, who joined me in writing multiple stories for these volumes. When the submission deadline was fast approaching, I wrote to Tracy, who had written one story at that time for this set, and asked if she’d be interested in writing others to appear in the companion volumes. She took it as a challenge and wrote two more amazing tales in just a week or so. Arthur consistently pulls great tales from The Tin Dispatch Box, and I’m glad that they end up here. And I was a fan of Kelvin’s work back in the 1980’s, so I’m very happy that he’s a part of these books.

There is a group of special people who have stepped up and supported this and a number of other projects over and over again with a lot of contributions. They are the best and I can’t express how valued they are: Larry Albert, Hugh Ashton, Derrick Belanger, Deanna Baran, S.F. Bennett, Nick Cardillo, Jayantika Ganguly, Paul Gilbert, Dick Gillman, Arthur Hall, Stephen Herczeg, Mike Hogan, Craig Janacek, Will Murray, Tracy Revels, Roger Riccard, Geri Schear, Robert Stapleton, Subbu Subramanian, Tim Symonds, Kevin Thornton, and Marcy Wilson.

I also want to thank the people who wrote forewords to the books:

And last but certainly not least, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle: Author, doctor, adventurer, and the Founder of the Sherlockian Feast. Present in spirit, and honored by all of us here.

As always, this collection has been a labor of love by both the participants and myself. As I’ve explained before, once again everyone did their sincerest best to produce an anthology that truly represents why Holmes and Watson have been so popular for so long. These are just more tiny threads woven into the ongoing Great Holmes Tapestry, continuing to grow and grow, for there can never be enough stories about the man whom Watson described as “the best and wisest . . . whom I have ever known.”

David Marcum

August 7th, 2019

The 167th Birthday of Dr. John H. Watson

Questions, comments, or story submissions may be addressed to David Marcum at

thepapersofsherlockholmes@gmail.com