The Floating Corpse Read online

  The Case of the Floating Corpse

  By

  James Michael Walker

  A Sherlock Holmes Mystery

  Library of Congress and Printing Information.

  First Printing December, 2019

  Copyright © 2019 James Michael Walker

  All Rights Reserved

  In accordance with the United States Copyright Act, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book, ideas and concepts without the permission of the author or publisher constitute unlawful piracy and theft of the author's intellectual property. This includes movie productions, plays, written works, internet publications or any works produced and offered for free or for monetary exchange. Exceptions include brief quotations or excerpts for book reviews or articles in promotion of this publication. Special thanks from the author for supporting the writings of all authors and their works.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Author’s Tribute to

  Gillette’s Castle 100 Year Anniversary

  ‘The Case of the Floating Corpse’, commemorates the 100th year anniversary of William Gillette taking up residence in the castle he designed and built in East Haddam, Connecticut in 1919.

  William Gillette was a leading stage actor, screen writer, and special effects creator from 1890 to 1915. He is most famous for bringing to America, and portraying, the famous sleuth of Sir Conan Doyle - Sherlock Holmes.

  Sherlock Holmes, to this day, remains one of the most recognized fictional detectives and continues to intrigue mystery lovers as strongly as ever. Most of the visualizations of Sherlock Holmes were created by William Gillette’s portrayal of him, such as the deerstalker hat, the Macintosh coat, and even his best known line, “Elementary, my dear Watson!”

  Gillette Castle still stands today, as it has for over 100 years, sitting atop a series of hills known as the Seven Sisters, that overlook the Connecticut River. As a Connecticut state park, it is now host to thousands of visitors each year from all across the globe. The castle itself is a testament to the creative genius of William Gillette.

  Enjoy this mystery which takes place at Gillette Castle and the surrounding towns and along the Connecticut River. If you have visited the Castle you will recognize the many descriptive passages and be inspired to visit William Gillette’s home once again. Enjoy!

  The Case of the Floating Corpse

  1

  “Chester! Five minutes to Chester! Please gather all your belongings and wait until the train is completely stopped before disembarking! Chester!

  I waited until I felt the rush of air and heard the noise of the train increase for a moment, and then I grabbed my saddlebags and made my way off in the opposite direction of the Conductor. I was impressed that he hadn’t even glanced at me.

  I made my way to the back of the passenger car and went out the rear door. It was a bit dicey, carrying my loaded bags and crossing over the platform to the next car.

  This one was crowded, second class, and the passageway was filed with people gathering up their children, baggage, and whatnot. I had to rather bully my way through, jostling many with my leather bags draped across my shoulder. Folks glared at me then looked away confused. Not many guys wear fifty- dollar suits and tote cowpoke luggage around this part of New England. I had just made it through the throng as I felt the train begin to slow.

  In any case, a few bucks slipped earlier to the conductor gave me a key to the cargo car. I let myself in then locked the door behind me and hung the key on a nail in the wall, as the conductor instructed me to. Now, I could get ready to make a grand departure from the train. By the time the train had begun to walking pace, I had secured my saddle bags and donned my riding boots, jacket, helmet and googles. I had just pulled on my gloves and straddled my motorcycle when the train lurched to a stop. Luckily, the kick stand was still down, or I might have gone over.

  It was a few long moments before the side doors were pulled back and a wide board was propped up against the floor. Quickly I kicked started the engine and eased over to the ramp. When my front tire went over the edge of the ramp, I realized it was too steep for my bike to clear without bottoming out. I gave it a burst of throttle and pulled back on the handlebars.

  The front end went up so smoothly that when my rear tire cleared the lip, I kept the front tire in the air and rode the ramp down. Gaping passengers milled about on either side of the ramp. After I was on level ground, I had to keep the wheel up for show and give it another goose.

  I ran out of platform quickly and found myself facing a short set of stairs that went down to the train stations drive. In the air I went, to the sounds of gasps and short screams from the crowd. Thankfully, I kept my balance and landed smoothly, letting the front tire touch the gravel like a leaf that falls from a tree. I heard a few cheers but I didn’t have time to bask in their delight, as I had to hit the brakes hard.

  Standing not twenty feet in front of me was a burly man in a uniform, pointing a nightstick at me and shouting angrily, words I couldn’t hear over the roar of my engine.

  I probably could have just gone around him and been on my way, but his meaning was clear, and I didn’t want to be a fugitive minutes after I arrived in Chester, Connecticut. I managed to lurch to a stop, just inches from his future children.

  With impudent slowness, I reached over and shut down my engine to catch the copper in front of me in mid rant.

  “What do you think you’re doing tossing that contraption through the air and scaring folk half to death! Lucky you didn’t hit anyone or you’d find yourself in cuffs Bucko!” He jabbed me hard in the chest with the end of his stick. “You’ll be lucky if’n I don’t run you in right now for disturbing the peace!”

  I might have been contrite but for the jab, I just grinned and said, “I feel truly blessed, Officer.”

  The copper tilted his head and started slapping his club in the palm of his other hand. “Oh, a clever one. And what brings you to our sleepy little town? You’re not from around here, that much I know.”

  “I’m here to visit my uncle.” I replied curtly. I noticed a small crowd was watching this proceeding with interest.

  He was getting annoyed as he laid the club on his shoulder, poised to smack me. “And just who might that be?”

  I wasn’t particularly scared of the club or the uniform, but I didn’t want to embarrass my uncle, so I tried to put a little respect in my tone.

  “Gillette. William Gillette. Makes his home somewhere around here, I think. Big stone place? Near the river? Perhaps you could give me directions and we could both get about our day.”

  I could see the copper’s demeanor change instantly when he heard the name ‘Gillette’, just as I thought it would. After all, William Gillette was the most famous actor of our times and his portrayal of Sherlock Holmes was known worldwide. He was most likely the richest man in this county to boot and I was counting on his name to get this flatfoot off my back.

  The Copper lowered his stick, but he wasn’t done with me yet. “Yes, you have the right place, but you still haven’t told me what they call you when your home.”

  “Frohman. Collin Frohman.”

  His eyebrows went up at that. “Any relations to a Charles Frohman?”

  “My father.”

  His features softened, and he stepped off to the side of the wheel, putting his nightstick back in a loop on his belt. “How long are you planning to stay?”

  “A few weeks, more or less.”

  He sighed and smiled. “I suppose we’ll have the two of you racing about on those things for a while. Mr. Gillette is always tearing about on his.”

  I grinned, “I’ll be the one out front.”

  He laughed, “Just use som
e caution, is all we ask. Take a left out of here and go up a few miles until you hit the Ferry road. Follow that and you’ll come to the ferry. You’ll find it from there.” He smiled at me slyly. “Big stone place on a hill overlooking the river. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you, Officer.” I said as I rose up and kicked the machine into life.

  Over the roar, he leaned in and said, loud enough to hear, “A good man, your father!”

  I nodded and dropped into gear, a lot of my cockiness knocked out of me as I sped off.

  It was a fun ride, if a bit short. The road was pleasantly windy and hilly, and my new motorcycle made it feel as if I was riding on the back of an eagle, soaring and diving in the wind. The trees thinned out and some homes began to dot the roadside. I had to reduce my speed as I came up on the outskirts of a town and traffic began to thicken. There were still a good amount of horse and buggies, and I did see a smattering of automobiles and trucks along the way. I got a lot of glares from the former, especially those whose horses sidestepped away when I passed by, and a lot of waves from the latter. Before I knew it, a fairly good- sized river ended the road. Fortunately, there was a ferry at the end of the road, and I made it just as it was preparing to depart. I sped over to the ticket booth, but the woman inside just smiled and waved me on. I wondered why there was no charge, but I didn’t have time to ask questions and lunged forward onto the deck of the ferry just before they hung the chain railing up and the boat began to pull away.

  I was still confused by the no fee, but happy I didn’t have to wait until the ferry made its circuit before I could cross the river. I killed the engine and put down the kick stand. I remained in my seat, planting my feet on the deck, not sure about the bike’s balance on rolling waters. I didn’t want any scratches on her until my Uncle saw her.

  As I was pulling my helmet off, a man about my age and two girls came up alongside. All were clutching paper and pencils and looking at me in adoration. I had to laugh at their looks of sudden disappointment. One girl even began to pout. More strangeness. What was going on? Leave it to Uncle Will to settle in the land of crazies.

  “Am I that ugly?” I asked hoping to keep their attention.

  Ignoring me, the guy turned to the girl next to him. “That’s not him! I told you he was too short!”

  “Well, how many people wear nice suits and ride one of those things around here!” She demanded in return. “And I already knew it wasn’t him-he’s too young!”

  With that, she spun and stalked away, the other two in tow.

  “Rats!” I heard the second girl say. “I would have loved his autograph!”

  That made me laugh! Those chumps thought I was William Gillette! Nice suit and a motorcycle! Uncle Will should get a kick out of this.

  I looked around to see if I had any more admirers, but nobody was paying any attention. In fact, all I saw were backsides. Each and every one of the passengers and some of the crew, including the three that approached me, were lining the railings and pointing out over the water from time to time. I wondered what they were looking for or at. Another enigma. That made three in less than a half hour.

  The first one was also quickly solved when a deckhand came over to me and asked, “Excuse me, sir. Do you have a ticket?”

  A bit embarrassed, I replied, “No. I never got one. I went to the ticket booth, but the girl just smiled and waved me on.”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes sir. I see. The thing is…she thought you were another person, who has a permanent pass.”

  “William Gillette?” I ventured.

  “Err…yes, sir. We all thought you were him, with the motorcycle and all.”

  He seemed a bit skittish, so I decided to pull his leg a little. “My God, Man! How could you make that mistake? William Gillette owns an Indian Chief and this magnificent machine I straddle” I put my hands together in a V and thrust them between my legs, “is a Harley-Davidson!”

  He was not amused, and his eyes narrowed. “You’re still not him! You need to pay for your passage!”

  I held up a hand to placate him and put my other in my pocket. “How much I owe you?” I was going to insist on half price because we were well on our way across but decided to save my humor for someone who would appreciate it.

  He told me the fare and I pulled a bill out of my clip. His eyes widened, and he said, “I’ll have to see if we have change for this, Mister.”

  Just as he spoke, I looked up over his shoulder and saw it for the first time. My jaw dropped down to the gas tank and I waved the man away,

  “Keep it.”

  Squatting there, not a half-mile away atop the biggest hill, was a great stone edifice that seemed to reach the clouds. The sunlight made the stonework glow and multitude of pinpoints of light reflected off the windows that dotted the structure. It looked like something torn from King Arthur’s kingdom and set down in New England.

  Uncle Will had outdone himself.

  For a guy who spent most of my life living on his boat and occasionally renting a place, this was a real swing in the other direction!

  Though, I suppose, for the most successful actor of our times and the man who started this whole money making, mad craze for Sherlock Holmes in America- I guess I shouldn’t have been so awed. But, even with my father’s description and the love I knew my uncle had for dramatics, it was hard not to be daunted!

  I sat on my bike, studying the lines of the castle and seeing more of the detail as we readied to dock. I saw a roadway that led directly up to the castle from the ferry landing, so I knew how to get there once we tied up, which happened very quickly. I’d like to say I was being courteous, but the truth was-I didn’t trust the drivers of a few of the automobiles. They looked a little green with their machinery and I had no intention of getting run over or even worse, having my bike getting banged up before I could show it off.

  Soon enough, the coast was clear, and I roared off the deck and onto dry land. I went to the left on the road I had seen earlier, but only made it as far as a newly built foundation for a house, with yet another oddity. There was a donkey tied to a stake in what would someday be the front yard. The animal didn’t even notice the noise of my engine, and just kept nibbling away at the grass.

  In truth, I was just stalling for a moment. As much as I wanted to see the castle and my uncle, I had butterflies in my stomach. The misery heaped upon my family, in just six months’ time, had turned my life upside down. Now I had but one chance to get the life I wanted so desperately. Uncle Will was my only hope. Heaving a great sigh, I dropped the bike into gear and dashed up the hill. The ride was fast and before I knew it, and without a chance to really look at the castle as I came up, I found myself at one end of a short bridge that spanned a crevasse between the road and the castle. Even then, I hardly notice the castle as my whole being was focused on a little man who stood in the center of the other side.

  Dressed in a black suit, slender, short, and Asian, Ozaki looked almost the same as he had since my first memories.

  William’s manservant, confidant, and companion had been with my Uncle as long as my father and Wiliam had been friends -- long before I was even thought of. Consequentially, Ozaki has been a big part of my life, teacher, caretaker, and always a friend. Where William was more of an uncle than anyone could want, Ozaki was that special cousin. Older, wiser, and the one that would tell you the things about life nobody else would.

  He just stood perfectly still, hands folded at his waist as I settled my bike and walked over to him. His stoic face tore at my heart and the rents widened as I neared and saw the worn look to his features. He looked like he had aged five years in the last nine months. I tried to smile as I stepped up to him, but before I could catch myself, I sank to one knee and threw my arms around his waist. I buried my head in his chest and cried like a little girl.

  Ozaki said nothing, just held me for a moment or two then he suddenly thrust me to arms’ length and gave me a little shake.

  “BAKA!”


  I had to smile at the Japanese obscenity, and I rose to me feet. I stepped back and gave him a low bow.

  “Please forgive my weakness, Sensei. It is good to see you.”

  He just smiled and patted my arm. “There is no shame. Sometimes grief is a sneeze.”

  I didn’t have time to process that, as he turned and began to slowly walk towards the side of the castle. I stepped up alongside him, but we walked very slowly. Usually, that meant he had something to say to me.

  “I must take you to your Uncle right away! He has been looking forward to seeing you.”

  “How is he?”

  Ozaki took a moment to think that over. “Better. He was like a warking dead man for months after, but putting the finar touches on this monstrosity.” He gestured to the castle that loomed over us like a sculpted cliff face, “has brought some life back to him. He has been more rike his old self after you wrote to say you were coming.” He cast an eye on me, “Why you wait so rong?”

  “Me?” I protested. “I’ve asked to come see the place at least three times since the funeral. Uncle Will kept putting me off! I figured I disappointed him in some way. I…I guess I can understand…”

  Ozaki stopped dead in his tracks and glared at me. “You understand nothing!”

  I didn’t want to start my trip with an argument. “How are you, Ozaki? You look tired.” I said to deflect the question.

  He smiled slyly at me. “Your Uncre has been a hard man to rive with these past months.”

  By then we had reached some steps that led up to a patio area. I went up the steps quickly and there, on the other side of the stone courtyard, standing by the railing that faced the river was my Uncle, William Hooker Gillette, actor, playwright, inventor, and much more to me, stood stiff backed, one leg bent, and chin held high. I smiled to myself. Always posing for effect! We saw each other at the same time, each of us putting on a brave smile as we closed the distance between us. Not trusting myself to speak, in case the water works started anew, I ignored his outstretched hand and threw my arms around him. “Uncle Will, I’m so glad to see you.”