Sherlock Holmes Had to Leave Baker Street
When I first began thinking about writing my own Sherlock Holmes story, one decision became clear to me quite early on: I wanted to take Holmes out of his familiar surroundings.
Baker Street, Victorian London, Scotland Yard, the familiar streets and the people Holmes regularly encounters – all of these are inseparable from his world. And of course, I love that world. Otherwise, I probably would never have started writing my own Sherlock Holmes stories in the first place.
But precisely because those surroundings are so familiar, I was drawn to the idea of leaving them behind for a while.
I wanted to send Holmes and Watson on a journey. Far away from London, far from their usual investigative territory. To a place where different rules apply, where they know no one, and where events cannot simply be resolved by paying a visit to Scotland Yard.
That was how the idea of taking the two men to Glenmore Castle came about.
A remote castle, unfamiliar surroundings, and a mystery waiting to be unravelled.
To me, it was the ideal starting point for my first case.
When Watson Has to Look After Holmes for a Change
There was another idea that had fascinated me from the very beginning.
In Arthur Conan Doyle's original stories, I particularly enjoyed those moments when Sherlock Holmes is not portrayed as an almost tireless investigator, but as a human being whose health has its limits.
Holmes may possess an extraordinary mind, but he is not an invulnerable hero.
It is precisely in such situations that Dr Watson takes on a role extending far beyond that of friend and chronicler. He is a physician. And sometimes he has to remind Holmes that even the most brilliant mind inhabits a body that needs rest.
One particularly fine example, to my mind, is “The Devil's Foot”, in which Holmes withdraws to recover after a period of severe overwork, following medical advice. “The Lion's Mane” also shows us Holmes outside his former London life.
Stories like these have always held a special appeal for me.
Not because I wanted to portray Holmes as weak, but because such moments lend his character something deeply human.
Watson, for once, can be the one who decides what is sensible. The friend who worries. The doctor who does not simply accept every decision made by his famous patient.
I wanted to bring something of that into my own story as well.
The journey, therefore, was never intended to be merely a change of scenery. It was also an opportunity to explore something of the remarkable friendship between Holmes and Watson.
For all their differences, their relationship is, to me, one of the most important elements of this literary world.
A Train Journey with a Little Secret
Anyone who has read “The Riddle of Glenmore Castle” may remember an encounter during the train journey.
Holmes and Watson share their compartment for a while with a woman who speaks with them before eventually leaving the train.
That encounter was not entirely accidental.
Hidden within it is a small Easter egg, a deliberate reference that I have no intention of explaining just yet.
Perhaps one or two readers already have a suspicion as to who this woman might have been.
I am certainly curious to see whether anyone will work it out.
If you believe you have solved the mystery, you are very welcome to write to me.
Naturally, I will not reveal the answer here. After all, at least this little secret deserves to remain a secret for a while longer.
A Castle and a Riddle Waiting to Be Solved
Alongside the journey and the unusual situation between Holmes and Watson, there was another element I was particularly looking forward to writing: the riddle itself.
I wanted to tell a story that did not revolve exclusively around comparing statements, examining footprints, or questioning suspects.
There had to be something to discover.
Something that seemed incomprehensible at first, and whose significance would only gradually become clear.
An old castle provided a wonderful setting for that.
Places like these have always held a particular fascination for me. They possess a history extending far beyond the lives of their present inhabitants. Rooms, objects, and traditions may carry meanings that have long since been forgotten.
And sometimes, a seemingly insignificant detail conceals the key to a much greater secret.
That was precisely the idea I wanted to explore.
What particularly appealed to me was the combination of adventure and the traditional detective novel.
Holmes was not suddenly supposed to become a different kind of hero. His most important tools would remain his intellect, his powers of observation, and his ability to recognise connections.
But I wanted to give him a challenge that would put those abilities to use in an unfamiliar environment.
Writing these passages gave me particular pleasure.
Although the case naturally followed a planned storyline, developing the riddle and its individual elements allowed me to indulge in the kind of storytelling I have always loved.
Two Murders and More Than One Culprit
Another idea was particularly important to me as I developed the plot.
I did not want a case in which every crime could ultimately be traced back to a single culprit and a single plan.
Instead, I developed a story involving two murders committed independently of one another, yet driven by remarkably similar motives.
There were also several people who had, in different ways, incurred guilt.
I found this combination especially intriguing.
After all, just because two crimes share similar motives does not necessarily mean that the same person committed them.
For an investigator, that very similarity can become a trap.
What initially appears to be a connected series of events may not be connected at all.
Conversely, people acting independently of one another may set events in motion that later influence each other.
I was interested in how Holmes would separate the individual strands of the investigation.
Which observation belongs to which crime? Which statement actually concerns the murder under investigation? And at what point does the impression of a connection arise merely because different people have acted for similar reasons?
To me, this construction formed an essential part of the story's appeal.
I wanted the mystery to be resolved not through a single startling revelation, but through Holmes uncovering several connections that had previously seemed inextricably intertwined.
The Grand Revelation – Sherlock Holmes in the Classical Tradition
There was, however, one thing I had absolutely no desire to experiment with.
I wanted a classic Sherlock Holmes conclusion.
That moment when Holmes gathers the people involved, commands their attention, and finally explains what really happened.
I have always loved scenes like these.
Holmes addresses the people whose statements and actions he has investigated. He explains which details caught his attention, what conclusions he drew from them, and why certain explanations cannot possibly be true.
For me, there is a particular pleasure in this.
Things that previously seemed unimportant suddenly acquire significance. Individual observations fall into place. And people who believed their secrets were safely hidden are forced to realise that Holmes has been on their trail all along.
That was exactly the kind of moment I wanted in my first novel.
Not simply an arrest. Not merely a confession that answers every question.
But Sherlock Holmes, laying out his reasoning and showing those assembled, step by step, how he uncovered the truth.
To me, this is one of the finest traditions of classic detective fiction.
And I was determined to give my first Holmes mystery a scene like that.
My First Step into the World of Sherlock Holmes
Looking back, “The Riddle of Glenmore Castle” remains a particularly special book to me because it marked my entry into this literary world.
I had many ideas about what makes a good Sherlock Holmes story.
The friendship between Holmes and Watson. The atmosphere of a bygone age. The pleasure of following an unusual riddle. People with conflicting interests and secrets. And finally, a detective who uses his intellect to bring order to events that initially seem impossible to reconcile.
I wanted to bring all these elements together in my first story.
At the same time, I did not want simply to retell a familiar plot or confine Holmes to investigating in the well-known streets of London.
I wanted to explore how the character would fare in a different environment without losing what makes him who he is.
A remote castle, a journey, an unusual riddle, and several crimes offered precisely the possibilities I had been looking for.
Of course, a writer continues to develop. Every new novel brings experience. You discover things you might approach differently next time, and you find new ways of telling a story.
But I would not want to change the fundamental idea behind Glenmore Castle.
Because it grew out of precisely those things that fascinate me about Sherlock Holmes.
Why I Still Look Back on This Story with Pleasure
When I think about “The Riddle of Glenmore Castle” today, what I remember most is how much I enjoyed writing it.
The thought of sending Holmes and Watson on a journey.
The pleasure of devising a riddle whose solution would not be immediately apparent.
The challenge of weaving two independent murder cases together in such a way that their similarities would become just as interesting as their differences.
And, of course, the grand revelation towards which I had been working throughout the writing process.
I wanted to tell a story that captured something of the spirit of adventure that has always drawn me back to classic detective novels as a reader.
A story in which we accompany Holmes and Watson to an unfamiliar place, become caught up in a mystery, and eventually witness seemingly unrelated details forming a coherent truth.
Whether I succeeded in every respect is something my readers must decide.
But I still know exactly why I wanted to write this story.
Because I wanted to send Sherlock Holmes away from London for a change.
Because I wanted to give Watson the opportunity to look after his friend.
Because I was eager to create a proper riddle.
And because I was determined to write that moment when Sherlock Holmes stands before everyone involved and explains what really happened.
That was how “The Unpublished Cases of Sherlock Holmes” began for me.
And perhaps that is the most satisfying thought when I look back on this first novel: that a single story has since grown into an entire literary world.