Tuesday, 9 February 2016

Finding Hannah Watson

Where can Instagram take you?

Retrieve from www. weibo.com
Retrieved from www.weibo.com

For the actual story, please play the digital book

The pdf copy can be downloaded here.

Contributors: Avy Dou, Ruyi Jiang, Emily Satyadhi, Zyrine Pamittan, Ying Shuang Wong

The Bloody Treasure -- Sign of Four Fan Fiction Project


The Wrong Murder

Contributors: Tan Ing Chang, Zhu Cheng Lin, Hanifah Nur Laili, Nurein Farhana Oyein

Tuesday, 10 November 2015

The Sign of Four

The Sign of Four (Click on the link if you want to download the file)

Written by: Rachel Kojima, Anastasia Adella, Cornelia Wagner, Zorig Otgonbayar

Friday, 16 January 2015


“Morstan and Sholto! You shall now embark on a secret mission to Andaman islands. If you succeed, you’ll live like kings” the commander exclaimed. Morstan and I used to be great friends until he started robbing me of things I value the most- my rank in the military and the person I love, Mary. While exploring the woods, I heard Morstan’s agonized voice that led me to a debilitated Morstan with a snake bite on his right leg, lying on the ground; powerless. A strange pleasure took over my soul, watching his slow death. “Treasure worth more than anything, give Mary, the key is..” he cried. I searched for the treasure and found a walnut chest under his bed not to give it to Mary but to keep it for myself and never let his soul rest in peace.
                                                                                                               -Sholto (1804 )

As I lay invested in my errands, Sherlock sat comfortably seated in his velvet chair, gazing at the wall. This is utterly absurd, says he, pointing to a copy of The Daily Telegraph. “No new cases that can entice your intellect?” I asked sarcastically, for heaven’s sake, I would rather you focus on the relevance of a case rather than its myst.. I was suddenly interrupted by a telephone call. We had been called by Thaddeus Sholto to investigate on his brother’s sudden and unnatural death. Bartholomew Sholto, an indisposed man in his 50’s was seated diabolically in his armchair with a stiff and contorted body. “Watson, what do you reckon?” Holmes asked. “An epileptic seizure due to something insanely graphic resulting in convulsions and apnea. It is a rare case of SUDEP”. Here, Watson; “This is a recherché 14th century walnut chest with Hindi inscriptions. The intricate gold engravings at the bottom are of Mughal origin and the snake wood is of the hardest nature. Its contents must have triggered his seizure”- he exclaimed while examining the majestic coffer closely. As he moved the chest for further analysis, scraps of yellow paper fell onto the ground. He assembled the pieces together and formed a note which was incoherent and handwritten derangedly. The only detail that was comprehensible was the ‘sign of infinity’ at the end of the note. Albeit, the note made no explicit mention of suicide, it was clear that, in fact, it was a suicide note which according to Holmes; revealed a tortured mind and a man deeply disturbed by his own actions.

 I asked Thaddeus Sholto what he knew about the treasure and he hesitantly revealed that his father left the treasure before he died of lung cancer 20 years ago. “Having seen the effect of that treasure to my father, I took no interest in it. However, my brother became obsessed with it and spent his entire life in making the right key.” said teary Thaddeus.

 Across the cedar escritoire, a broken photo pendant was placed in a chaotic fashion. Sherlock gently placed the necklace on the desk and probed it methodically. ‘ The pearls are of superior quality and Indian origin, just like the treasure chest but the photo is not as old as the pendant. Watson, if only we could find the key.’ We searched high and low, inspected every nook and cranny but of no avail. After extensive investigation and futile efforts, I suggested to quit when suddenly; - ‘Oh dear! Is it not who I think it is?’ exclaimed Holmes. He stormed out of the room with the intensity of a gazelle. I followed Sherlock to his Baker street residence where I saw Mrs. Hudson bursting into tears. “And that’s how he abandoned me for his presumably younger woman!” cried Mrs. Hudson. ‘But where did you find this picture?’ She asked whilst still sobbing. In an instant, I gathered that the young lady in the picture was no one else but Mrs. Hudson. She opened up about her failed relationship with her fiancée, Mr. Morstan. Major Sholto had informed her about Morstan’s affair and how he never intended to meet her again. She added that she married again to forget Mr. Morstan and that she could never truly love anyone again resulting in a failed second marriage with Mr. Hudson.

 While she narrated the story, I noticed a tattoo on Mrs. Hudson’s left wrist- the sign of infinity. Holmes saw the expression on my face and looked at her wrist, “Maybe the key is with her.” exclaimed Sherlock. Mrs. Hudson recalled Mr. Morstan giving her a key the day they parted. Wrapped in a beautiful knitted handkerchief, laid a key in her old drawer. We hurried to the Pondicherry Lodge. I sat in silence in the cab on our way, imagining what the treasure would be like, gold coins, cash, jewels. Surely, Sherlock and I will be shared some of it, I thought to myself. Thaddeus was still there, talking to the police when we arrived. Mrs. Hudson tried to use the key and it fit in. Our eyes were all glued to the box. I could hear everyone’s heavy breathing as Mrs. Hudson opened the treasure chest. To our surprise, she took out a letter from the treasure chest. It said

Dear Mary,
 How are you? Forgive me for I haven’t written you in a long time, there are a lot of things that happened here. Tomorrow, I will embark for a mission and when I get back, I’ll marry you; and never will I have to leave you again.
 To inifinity and beyond, I love you 
 Morstan ∞ 

I stood there feeling guilty of the thoughts I had about the treasure. Still confused why Bartholomew had to take his life, I asked Sherlock and he said “Elementary, Watson. Is there any sign of infinity embedded on the chest? No. Bartholomew must have found a way to open the chest only to find out a letter. After working hard for a thing that would turned out absurd and of no value could trigger depression and ultimately, suicide. “But why didn’t Morstan send the letter before embarking for the mission” , I pondered to myself. And then I remembered mail collection in camps was different decades ago.

Wednesday, 14 January 2015

Sherlock Holmes: A fan fiction

Background information

This fan fiction is set in London during the Victorian era, at the exact same night as Sherlock Holmes, Watson and Miss Morstan are heading for the Lyceum Theatre to solve the mystery of ‘The Sign of Four’. However, in this story, we follow two young boys, working with the Metropolitan Police to try and find the people behind the recent robbery cases where drugs have been stolen from pharmaceutical companies.

The Other Side of the Theatre

It was just before seven o’clock a September evening. The city was covered with haze, and a sad feeling filled the dense air. The entrances of the Lyceum Theatre were already crowded with people. Four-wheelers and hansoms were jamming the street, discharging dapper men and dazzling women covered in diamonds and gleam. These people, living in luxury, bathing in money, wouldn’t ever look twice at street boys like me. I walked away, further down the street, into a dark alley, where I found what I was looking for. I grinned. He was holding her hand while they slowly walked closer to the place where I chose to hide; turning their heads around now and then to check if they were alone. The dim light from the street lamps made it possible for me to see them from where I was. I had never seen him like this, his face lit up with emotions, with happiness.

“Veronica, come with me. Let’s start a new life together, get out of London, away from the city and from the people who might harm you. I cannot leave you behind. I am deeply, madly, crazy in love you,” he said.  
“Michael, I would want to, but…” Veronica hugged him. Michael caressed her cheek and kissed her forehead.
I almost rolled my eyes. Poor Michael had no idea what was going on. However, this was the only way to catch the culprits. I looked at my watch. It was time.
“When I saw you the first time, with Smith, I knew that you were special.” Veronica went on.
Michael seemed to be out of words. He just stared at Veronica. Closer and closer their faces went, like magnets attracting one another. He looked at her like she was the most precious being in this world. A look that could melt the most frozen hearts and attract the most elusive animals. Their love was a perfect case of bad timing. For an instant, I saw their lips touch. I looked away.
I heard footsteps and saw Wiggins with more boys behind him, walking towards us from the end of the street. They were approaching fast. I backed away a little, trying not to make a sound. I looked back at the Theatre; searching from left to right. There, at the third pillar of the theatre entrance, I caught her attention and gave her a sign.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Wiggins asked.
“Wiggins, what are you doing here?” Michael said in a low voice.
“I have been informed of mischief, Michael.”
“Mischief? I think you are mistaken. Michael stepped forward protecting Veronica.
Michael seemed confused. Veronica stepped away from him and walked towards Wiggins.
“Veronica?” Michael reached for her, but members of Wiggins’ gang held him back.
Wiggins kissed Veronica on her cheek. “Great job Veronica, you caught the little detective’s assistant. If we are lucky tonight, we will be able to kill two birds in one stone.”
“I don’t understand. Veronica, what does he mean by; caught the assistant?”  Tears were beginning to fill Michael’s eyes.
“I am so sorry.” Veronica said, also crying.
“George, take her to the warehouse.” Wiggins ordered.
“Your family is waiting for you.” He added in a whisper, nibbling her ear.
She slapped him. George grabbed her arm. He escorted her away.
I went out from my hiding place.
“I thought you would act a little smarter than this Wiggins”
“Smith. I knew you would come. ” Wiggins grinned.
“Smith? What are you doing in here? What is going on?” Michael seemed to be even more confused, if that was even possible.
I just stared.
“Let’s just do this the easy way Wiggins. You already have me, let him go. He is no longer of use to you.”
“What is going on?” Michael repeated.
“Well, why don’t we let this detective friend of yours tell you about it?” Wiggins said in a mocking voice, not taking his eyes off me.
“Wiggins and the rest of ‘The Baker Street Irregulars’ are behind most of the robberies in London pharmacies that’s been in the news lately. He’s been making a business out of it. Veronica’s father, Inspector Jones from the Metropolitan Police, found out about his dirty game and tried to investigate the case, however Wiggins caught him before he could find evidence for the crimes.”
“Yeah, the bastard was lurking around our headquarters. I could not risk a policeman finding out about our businesses. Wiggins sounded triumphant.

“My gang and I have been stealing to deal all kinds of drugs from the pharmacies, selling them to the upper class Londoners for a very good price. I had no choice but to leave old Jones in the cellar of our headquarters, so he would not spill our secret. However, I wasn’t thinking that he had a daughter who was going to go on investigating the case. She went to you Smith and I know how what you have been up to lately; playing detective and solving cases for the cops. Suits you better than being on the street, you who could never steal a thing. You were useless as a street boy.” He spat at me. Shivers went down my spine thinking about my days in the streets.
Wiggins went on. ‘So, I threatened the poor daughter that I would kill her father if she didn’t cooperate with me. Being the loving daughter that she is, she really did do her job well, and here we are. I trapped you both and now it is over.”
I looked at Michael from where I was standing from. His face looked like his insides were going to come out. Michael was a great assistance at times, but he just could never keep his emotions controlled. “Over for you Wiggins.” I said.
“Don’t move, Metropolitan Police!” Inspector Jane shouted. Several policemen appeared with weapons pointed at Wiggins and the gang. “Get them. They are the primary suspects of the robbery cases. They have confessed everything.”
“You can’t do this to me! You have no evidence!” Wiggins face had gone from triumphant to dumb-founded in an instant.
“Smith, good job, we will handle things from here. Meanwhile, I have job to do.”  Inspector Jones said to me. I nod her goodbye.

When we got home I sat down with Michael and a good cup of hot tea.
“How come you didn’t tell me about it? I thought the two of us were suppose to solve cases together and help the police. You used me as a trap! As a bait! You used me Smith!” He said, almost in tears.
“You trapped yourself Michael. I have always told you to never allow your judgment to be biased by personal qualities. You lost all logic over your love towards her.”
Michael looked at me in disbelief.
“She didn’t love me…” His head dropped and I could feel his heart shattering into fine pieces.
“I am not too sure about that. Even if she did use you to free her father from Wiggins, it doesn’t mean she didn’t love you, but Wiggins’ had her weakness. She had no choice but to obey him.” There was a moment of silence.
“How did you know about Wiggins’ plan?”
I took a deep sigh. “Elementary my friend. After Veronica came to our office the other day, something was just not right about the way she was acting. She was too nervous when she walked in. I followed her after, and saw her talking to a man. I knew that something was wrong. She further went to nr. 314 in Baker Street and that’s when I connected it all to Wiggins. I’ve had my eye on him for a while now about the robberies.
“I was completely blind. I’ve failed again as your assistant Smith..’

“Michael, without you I wouldn’t have solved this case. You aren’t completely useless”. I told him with a smile.

Written by: Danielle Larizze Gallardo and Mai Masuda Gylseth