The Poor Chap in 223B
Dear Mr. Holmes,
We share a common wall in our suite of rooms. Unfortunately, it is the wall into which you have been outlining the letters “VR” with your revolver. I am certain of this because the inverse of the initials are invading my den, as are some of the spent bullets. This evening you winged my parrot, Twaddle.
I am a well-bred Londoner who has lived within yards of Baker Street since birth, and I am also an affiliate member of the Diogenes Club. I pray this note alone will be sufficient to curb your homicidal tendencies. If not, I fear I shall be forced to take up the matter with your brother Mycroft, with whom I have dined on several occasions. I trust that you, like me, would be uncomfortable with his involvement.
I hope these few lines shall conclude the matter.
I am respectfully yours,
Your neighbor
Dear Mr. Holmes,
I wrote you once before about the common wall of our lodgings. Though I appreciate the secession of gunfire, I have been forced to question your landlady Mrs. Hudson about the wretched and noxious odors seeping into my quarters through a number of those aforementioned bullet holes. She has reluctantly confessed that you have an extensive laboratory apparatus set up in your sitting room.
I really must protest. Many of the fumes are incredibly toxic—the hydrogen sulfide alone has put me off poached eggs for life. Also be aware that I have some little knowledge of chemicals in my capacity as a teacher. You are creating a certifiable fire hazard for both properties. Dismantle your array of beakers and test tubes forthwith or I shall discuss the matter with a friend of mine at Scotland Yard, Inspector Lestrade, with due haste.
Your unhappy and half-poisoned neighbor
Dammit Holmes,
Yes, this is the put-upon, beleaguered gentleman of 223B. I am forced to admit I am grateful for the lack of fetid and pernicious vapors the last week, but with fewer experiments has come far more incessant scratchings on the foul catgut of what apparently passes for a violin. Stradivarius has changed position in his casket, I assure you. The wretched screeching is infinitely preferable to whizzing shells and acid gas attacks, but last night’s little shouting gala crossed the line in the acoustics category. I heard your raised voice berating some “rider” (are you now moonlighting as a cabbie?), and the whiny son of a bitch sobbed loudly enough to wake the dead, until finally he went running wildly and laughing into the street.
And this incident is by no means unique. You seem to fill your rooms with ruffians and unwashed street urchins on a regular basis. Have I done something to warrant this constant barrage of strident clamor? Has your roommate no control over you? I have heard he is a doctor. Is he perhaps your warder? I think a straitjacket is called for. My patience is wearing quite thin. By God, man, it’s Christmas! Have a bit of Christian charity. My work has suffered for lack of sleep; I have been put on notice at the University.
Signed in anger,
The furious man next door.
My avowed foe Mr. Sherlock Holmes:
Yes, I have moved out of the flat abutting yours, but not in time. Stonyhurst has given me my notice. My nerves are frayed and lack of sleep took its inevitable toll. I can no longer boast a coterie of students. But, my dear Mister Holmes, I still have my brains. I intend to employ all my knowledge henceforth with the single-minded goal of exacting vengeance on you. My mission in life will be to ensure no future tenant’s wellbeing is ever shattered by the menacing projectiles, unbearable exhalations, and horrid bellowing, cries, and sour musical notes emanating from 221B Baker Street.
I shall wreak havoc with your own sanity by becoming your arch-enemy, and I shall dog your very steps until I find an opportunity to hurl you bodily into an abyss. You may count on it.
Your nemesis,
Your livid ex-neighbor (and ex-professor)
John Kiste is a horror writer who was previously the president of the Stark County Convention Bureau and a Massillon Museum board member. He is an Edgar Allan Poe impersonator who has been published in Flame Tree Press's Terrifying Ghosts, NonBinary Review’s H. G. Wells and Odyssey anthologies, and many others.