The Case of the Broken Heart

Welcome to Baker Street, where we bring you stories of London's most celebrated consulting detective. Tonight's tale takes us back to a foggy morning in Victorian London, where a most peculiar delivery to Scotland Yard sets in motion a macabre investigation.

In "The Case of the Broken Heart," Inspector Lestrade arrives at 221B Baker Street with a grotesque puzzle - a lead-lined box containing a human heart preserved in ice. While Holmes immediately begins weaving his web of deductions about Indian wood and army officers, a more sinister plot unfolds in the shadows. For behind this grisly discovery lurks the machinations of Holmes's greatest nemesis, Professor Moriarty, and an unexpected conspirator within the very walls of Baker Street itself.

Join us as Dr. Watson narrates this chilling tale of deception, where nothing - and no one - is quite what they seem. Stay tuned as we delve into another adventure from the chronicles of Sherlock Holmes.

Transcript

The Case of the Broken Heart

The housekeeper, Mrs Hudson knocked at the first floor door at 221b Baker Street London.

“Inspector Lastrade.” She announced.

Lastrade and Sergeant Jackman entered the living room. Watson drew back the curtains as the morning light streamed through the windows. The room was untidy, newspapers were scattered across the dining table in the corner, and the air was musty with the smell of pipe tobacco.

Sergeant Jackman was carrying a small wooden box with a steel handle.

“I see that you slept very little last night Lastrade and you didn’t enjoy your usual breakfast of fried eggs and bacon.” Holmes looked at the inspector, who rather than being confused by Holmes's insightful observations looked annoyed.

Lastrade sighed and said “I don’t have time for your games Holmes and anyway I have not come to see you but to seek the good doctor’s advice and help. “

“Is it a murder?” Holmes interjected. Lastrade ignored him.

“Jackman, the box.” Lastrade pointed to the table next to Watson. “Please take a look at this Doctor, our Scotland Yard doctor could shed little light on the matter other than to say the obvious.”

Watson gingerly opened the box. It was lead-lined and was filled with ice which was stained red with blood. In the middle was a heart.

“What can you tell me about this?”

“In my days” Watson said ”serving in the Afghan wars I saw many open chest wounds and some with the heart still beating but it is still a shock to see something as grim as this. It appears to be a human heart, although it is sometimes difficult to tell the difference between that and a pig’s. However, in the swine heart, the right auricle has a narrow tubular appearance, compared with the triangular shape of that in humans.” said Watson pointing to the right side of the heart.

“It is in very good condition and was removed with a little skill and the arteries have been cut with precision. I would venture to say it is of a fit young person possibly in their early twenties. It is difficult to tell if they were male or female but from the size, I would say most likely a female, as female hearts tend to be slightly smaller. I would also hazard a guess as it shows no signs of trauma that it was removed post-mortem and that the person died sometime in the

last ten hours. Where on earth did you get it?”

Lastrade reached over and closed the lid. “About an hour ago a dog walker brought this box into Scotland Yard. They said they found it in Hyde Park and once they realised what it was they thought it was best to bring it to the police.”

Holmes interrupted. “The box Watson, there are clues in the box. Lastrade let me examine the box, please!” 

Watson notices the word “please” at the end of the sentence and knows that Holmes is desperate to become involved. “Please” was not a word he had heard him say very often if at all rather he treated most people with taciturn indifference and a presumption that they were all there to do his bidding without argument or question simply.

Holmes took out his magnifying glass and carefully examined the box. “A box for transporting champagne, it was owned by a family who had recently travelled from India. The wood is deodar, you can tell from the close grain. This wood is found mainly in Uttar Pradesh and Punjab. I would say it was owned by a high ranking British Army officer based in Lahore and they recently arrived by ship from Karachi or Bombay. See, the chalk storage mark on the

bottom are still visible.”

Holmes opened the box and put his finger into the ice. “Allowing for an overnight temperature in Hyde park last night of 39 degrees Fahrenheit and the rate at which it appears to have melted I would say this ice was put in the box no more than four hours ago. It would have to come from a building close to the park maybe in the Mayfair or Belgravia area. There was a report this morning in the Times that Colonel Hugh Henry Gough of the Bengal Lancers has returned to London with his wife and two daughters might be a good place to start your enquiries

Lastrade.”

Watson looked first at Lastrade and then at Holmes. “Don’t you think you are making some rash assumptions Holmes, I’m sure there could be other explanations.”

“Indeed there could be.” Holmes said in his best patronising voice and but we must always start with the most obvious and bit by bit we will eliminate everything so that whatever remains however improbable must be the truth.” Holmes closed the lid on the box.

Lastrade turned to the Sergeant and said “Off to Scotland Yard and order the constables to go house to house in Belgravia and Mayfair. Hyde Park is already being searched for a body. This is top priority Jackman. Now go and take the box with you, I’ll follow shortly.”

Mrs Hudson had heard most of the conversation and retreated downstairs to her kitchen on the ground floor, she heard the clatter of feet as the Holmes, Watson and Lastrade left the house a few moments after Sergeant had left the building. Twenty minutes later Mrs Hudson removed her apron, put on her heavy wool coat, and slipped into Baker Street. It was a short walk to the cafe in Mayfair where she ordered a pot of tea and a small slice of Dundee cake and sat down well away from the cafe's only other customer. It was their usual meeting place and it wasn’t long before the professor joined her.

“Good Morning Martha” Professor Moriarty said in hushed tones as he removed his hat and coat and sat facing the door with his back to the wall. “I trust you are well?”

“Indeed I am “Mrs Hudson answered in her soft Edinburgh accent.

“and has he taken the bait?” Moriarty asked.

“Yes and soon they will be all over Mayfair and Belgravia looking for a debutante with a missing heart ” Mrs Hudson replied, her face breaking out into a wide smile.

Moriarty looked pleased. “My spies tell me the police are already swarming all over Hyde Park.”

Mrs Hudson leant forward “Where did you get the heart from?” She whispered.

Moriarty smiled. “I got it from a mortician. She was just a young girl and had been run down by a cart early yesterday. The box I picked it up in a pawn shop on Petticoat Lane. With enough money, you can buy anything in London. Talking of money” He pushed a small cloth purse across the table. Mrs Hudson prised it open.