The Chessmen

Sherlock Holmes didn’t stir as his two friends returned.

He was reading intently the words which had burned

They ways into his mind and would not settle down.

Sherlock Holmes was on fire though his face wore a frown.

From one note to another the Sleuth switched his gaze

As he tried to find order within such a maze

But, abruptly, he stopped when he heard the floor creak-

He looked up and he finally took time out to speak.

“Watson, Friar Geoffrey, you’ve come none too soon.

I’ve detected a pattern which might be a boon

To our investigations, though I must confess

That I didn’t suspect Jack the Ripper played chess.”

“Played chess? What the Devil ... what is that you say?”

Dr Watson enquired, “Well, chess, he might play

But what has that to do with these letters afloat

On our floor? You know Gregson will go for your throat.”

“This scatter of letters, you know, is the thing

To incense Scotland Yard and would cause it to bring

Down the Damocles’ Sword hanging over your head.

Could you not have been tidy, a little, instead?”

“Friar Geoffrey, if more of your time, I may plead,

Could you help with these letters so Sherlock may read

All the clues he desires? We must rebuild each stack

For Lestrade on the warpath is worse than Old Jack.”

Friar Geoffrey replied, “Well, of course, tell me how.

If they’re marked in date order, that’s sure to allow

Us to sort all those letters in no time at all.

Mr Holmes seems obsessive when he’s heard the call.”

“Obsessive.” said Watson, “A gross understatement.

Sherlock Holmes doesn’t see any need for abatement

Or reduction of anything feeding his brain.

When the man’s on a case he’s an absolute pain.”

“But a pain with a purpose.” Friar Geoffrey declared

As both he and Watson knelt down and prepared

To sort letters by date to avoid Lestrade’s ire.

“Mr Holmes may have found what we all would desire.”

“Gentlemen,” broke in Sherlock, their banter ignoring,

“I have been hard at work while you both were exploring

The soft cushioned chairs set around Watson’s club

While these clues have been circling my cranial hub.”

“Don’t complain about mess when I’m digging for gold

And have found shiny nuggets entrenched in a cold

And resistant matrix.” to his friends said Sherlock,

“I am bound to make rubble when hammering rock.”

“Yes, I know of your rubble, the stuff that you strew

All about our poor diggings, but surely a few

Little moments of tidying up wouldn’t hurt.”

Was all the good Doctor could think of to blurt.

“But how did you know we had been at my club?”

Watson asked of his friend’s circled cranial hub.

“We might well have visited ‘most anyone.

Any medical colleague of mine would have done.”

“Elementary, My Friend. It’s the cigar you smoked.

Its aroma that lingers in no time invoked

A response in my brain, for your club stocks the best

Trichinopoly brand. So, my case, I now rest.”

“But if you need more, on you coat I perceive

Ash from such a cigar as you always receive

When you sit in those chairs and you’re forced to recline

Horizontally, almost, compressing your spine.”

“All your friends that I know prefer smoking a pipe

And you left me a clue when you failed to wipe

Off that tell-tale ash, so specific, sublime -

I’ll prepare a short monograph when I get time.”

“Friar Geoffrey,” said Watson, “see what I endure.

For Sherlock’s perception there isn’t a cure.

He knows where I’ve been, who I’ve seen, what I’ve done

Anytime, anywhere, anything, anyone.”

“I see a great gift and I understand why

I was sent to your friend forced to stand idly by

While a fiend was at large.” Friar Geoffrey declared,

“And if I was this Jack, I’d prepare to get scared.”

The friar sat back on his haunches to hear

The Great Sleuth’s call to arms, loud and ever so clear.

“Well said, Friar Geoffrey. The crux you have found.

Now it’s time to get running this villain to ground.”

“I believe he has left us twelve viable clues;

Clues which tell me that Jack is a man who pursues

Infamy in a way which would see gratified

The delusions his devilish ego supplied.”

“The man has education, his knowledge of chess

Would suggest that, though evil, he has none-the-less

Had spare time to indulge in such games of the mind.

He might crave recognition, he may be that kind.”

“And his bestial side, his depravity may,

Detailed medical knowledge, in some way betray

For his victims show signs of a surgical hand

And of eyes used to gore but a heart cold and bland.”

“He perhaps is like Watson in some of his traits

But, unlike our good Doctor for whom Heaven waits

And who’s tended the wounds of a battlefield’s crop,

This man full of evil does not want to stop.”

“His letters I hold show for each evil act

He’s sent one in advance and one after the fact

Making six acts in all, though he’s credited five;

Perhaps one unknown victim may still be alive.”

“But the savagery shown has increased with each crime

So this victim would be of the earliest time.

We must plough through the records for such an event -

If we’re lucky, this victim might prove Heaven-sent.”

“This writer of letters first speaks of a pawn

Who must be sacrificed, and the reader is drawn

To believe this is simply an opening move

In a game with so many chessmen to remove.”

“The second suggests that this pawn has been killed

And goes on to describe how so much blood was spilled

And how much more will flow till the city runs red

As the evil that walks it is thoroughly bled.”

John Watson spoke up while the friar stayed mute

And he asked if the files from The Yard could refute

Or confirm such a claim, and the Great Sleuth replied,

“Two came on the day that first victim died.”

“Those files only start after Whitechapel Jack

Had despatched his first victim in his first attack

But that first letter sent is included with those

For the five women victims we know that he chose.”

“So, perhaps the man failed on attempting his first

Knife attack on a victim but still had a thirst

To deliver more horror and so struck once more

This time leaving a body enveloped in gore.”

“Both attacks must have been on the very same day

For two letters were posted together, I’d say,

Sometime after the first which warned of an attack -

One to gloat, one to warn of new work from Old Jack.”

“If no body was found then the victim might live

And might have information quite vital to give.

We must find out where-ever that victim resides -

Somewhere in this city, that first victim hides.”

“She may be with family or with, perhaps, friends

But the news of more victims perhaps recommends

To herself and her helpers that she ought not tell

The Police of her brush with this agent of Hell.”

“She may not be hurt badly for, if she had been,

It would be necessary for her to be seen

By a hospital doctor and Jack would soon hear

That his work was unfinished and he’d soon appear.”

“We must seek out Lestrade and insist that he seek

Out a woman who needed attention that week

After Jack started killing and mailing his taunts

And his warnings of upcoming Whitechapel jaunts.”

“We must seek out a man with pretentions to fame

But who seeks out revenge in his devilish game;

He has culture to boast, or did have at one time;

He asserts false morality with every crime.”

“He must lurk in the shadows, he can’t stand the light

For if he is identified then he just might

Be shown up for the pretence such fellows exude.

He fears, I believe, his own ineptitude.”

“That describes Friar Jacques,” Friar Geoffrey suggested,

“The man refused meekness and always contested

The ways of our Friary, refusing to serve -

He demanded esteem which he didn’t deserve.”

“He could well have played chess - he was certainly born

To a higher estate than myself and I’ve sworn

That his family was noble, in some minor way,

And he simply refused to throw all that away.”

“But, for medical knowledge, there’s nothing I know;

No light on that subject I’m able to throw;

But the man was intelligent, that I can say,

Though his arrogant manner would get in his way.”

“You said six pairs of letters, twelve letters in all,

Five definite victims and one we might call

A fortuitous error if, find her, we can.”

John Watson said calmly, “Not much of a plan.”

“It’s a start,” declared Sherlock, “but I do agree

That the plan we prepare is a plan which we three

In this room must devise before Scotland Yard finds

What is on and declares that we’re out of our minds.”

“Lestrade wants our help, his superiors don’t;

Gregson is on side but we know that he won’t

Go directly against any orders received -

We may be on our own - of that, don’t be deceived.”

“Well, before we make plans,” Dr Watson broke in,

“You must know that our knowledge is really quite thin.

Tell us more of those letters you hold in your hand,

Of the clues that you seem to have at your command.”

“The first two pairs of letters you said had referred

To one victim, unknown, who survived when Jack erred

And another who died at the scene of the crime.

Tell us of the next four lest we run out of time.”

“Yes, I will,” replied Sherlock, “the threats are quite clear

And will not be the last we’ll receive, I do fear.

The third threat says a pawn will go down to a knight

And will die in the street with no hint of a fight.”

“Gentlemen - ‘to a knight’ - now his tone is displaying

His own self-delusions. Or is he relaying

The actual title he feels he deserves,

Or is it to unsettle more fragile nerves?”

“In the fourth pair of letters, the killer writes more

Of the same with the mention of more deaths in store

For this city he says is unworthy and must

Suffer death at the hands of one noble and just.”

“The man seems mad to me.” said John Watson, “I can’t

See how any sane person could act so. I shan’t

Sleep a wink till we run this mad fellow to ground

And he finds that, a place on the gallows, he’s found.”

“Madness,” countered Sherlock, “would surely exclude

Any talk of the gallows - the man would elude

What he richly deserves - he is sane, I declare,

And, of what he is doing, is fully aware.”

“Take victim number four, foully murdered was she

But the warning received was that there was to be,

By a bishop, a move on a pawn in a square

And the work of his knights would give London a scare.”

“Pawns, bishops and knights and a darkened square say

That the writer has sent us a challenge to play

In a scholarly game just to prove that he’s clever,

But to rise to that bait is a thing we’ll do, never.”

“But, to catch him, we may find that chess has a use

For the man is obsessed and is clearly obtuse

For he thinks that he is a superior kind

And possesses, he thinks, a superior mind.”

“We shall use that against him, but not play his game

And he’ll find that the forces against him aren’t tame

When we start dealing cards from keenly marked deck.

He will soon feel the noose ‘round his arrogant neck.”

“The game we shall play from now on will be poker -

He’ll not be a knight but a laughable joker.

Playing chess, he will find, is a fight to the death

And he’ll pay with his life, with his terminal breath.”

“But what of the fifth?” Watson asked knowing well

That the tale would be truly horrific to tell.

“She had died, so they say, from a frenzied attack

Then was butchered in earnest by Whitechapel Jack.”

“Yes. I’ve seen police pictures.” Holmes had to admit,

“And I’d grant to the fellow not one little bit

Of compassion or mercy, nor rush to his aid

If he, too, met that fate - I’d stand back, I’m afraid.”

“There had been a sixth letter and also its pair -

One to warn, one gloat on the horrid affair

And I fear there’ll be more, even worse, that may come

It may not just be Jack but a deadly threesome.”

“A bishop, two knights make a total of three

And it wouldn’t take much to get me to agree

These are three errant friars, one evil, two weak -

Friar Geoffrey, if you disagree you should speak.”

“Sadly, Mr Holmes, I am forced to concur

With your words, even though it’s a horrible slur

On our order, my brothers - with hindsight I’d say

That I should have delved more on that admission day.”

“How could anyone know? Who could ever believe

That this man of the cloth could cause London to grieve

Over murders so foul by a man so depraved.”

Dr Watson responded, “Great evil he craved.”

“To Lestrade we’ll relate what we’ve learned here tonight

And convince him to let me get into this fight.

For, while Scotland Yard dithers, this man plans to kill

Not for God, not for Satan, but just for the thrill.”

Sherlock despatched a message explaining that he

Had come up with a plan in which Jack might well be

Brought to book and to justice - “No one has to know

Sherlock Holmes is involved - it will still be your show.”

Sherlock knew that he must, in this instance, be kept

In the shadows - a place he found hard to accept.

He would don his disguises, go forth and cavort

With the criminal class but, to Lestrade, report.

A campaign of his own Sherlock Holmes must not wage;

He declared, Jack the Ripper, he would not engage.

One more thing to Lestrade Sherlock Holmes had to say,

“If one note mentions chess, let me know right away.”