Deception and Disguise
Although The Return of Sherlock Holmes is an anthology of independent mysteries that exists separately from one another aside from the occasional reference or allusion to one from another, by this point in the process author Arthur Conan Doyle had clearly committed to a process of creative inspiration in which certain motifs and themes recur within various stories to the point that one can fairly apply them as themes covering the bulk of the volume. One of the most obviously recurring themes has to do with venal men putting up a public façade distinctly at odds with the darkness in their soul. Mr. Oldcare in “The Norwood Builder” is a perfect example; here is a man who shows his intended victim a gregarious personality of almost overbearing fellowship and goodwill. That façade is merely a necessary disguise for the truly malevolent monster so consumed with revenge that he seems to not even remember he has wantonly taken an innocent life in pursuit of his plan.
The title character of Charles Augustus Milverton makes Oldacre look like a the friendly old man he pretends to be by comparison. Milverton succeeds in deceiving the world of the genuine depth of his capacity to destroy lives to the point where that success has convinced his delusion mind that he operates on a completely different realm than most; a realm where morality is but his plaything in his blackmail schemes. The theme of deception and disguise reaches its logical physical culmination in “The Golden Pince-Nez” in which the suspected murderer has been to a certain degree—like Oldacre—hiding in plain sight behind the labyrinthine architecture of the home in which the crime was committed.
“The Six Napoleons” takes a completely different track in examining the theme of disguise and deception. Inspector Lestrade is convinced that only a mentally deranged person with an unhealthy negative fixation on Napoleon Bonaparte would be capable of destroying plaster busts of the former Emperor for apparent reason. Somewhat like Hamlet, the lunatic act by the vandal is just that: an act that covers a much more sinister explanation for attacking the statuettes. The solitary cyclist in the story named for him is yet another character who dons a disguise to hide his true intent. Unlike Oldacre, however, his adoption of a sinister look who engenders fear in the young female protagonist of the story that an even more sinister plan may be at work. In this instance, the deception is done in the name of benevolent protection. Nevertheless, that protective aspect become yet another embodiment of a thematic coherence that almost at times make the collection seem more like a strategically calculated episodic novel.
In “The Abbey Grange” Conan Doyle manages to construct yet another way to introduce the theme of deception into the mix. In this instance, the attempt is to deceive Holmes from figuring out the exact series of events that led to the brutal death of the story’s distinctly unpleasant antagonist. Not only does Holmes succeed in seeing through this ruse, he manages to penetrate to the truth of what really happened that night despite the steadfast denial by the only witnesses that they have been anything other than truthful.
Throughout the stories found in The Return of Sherlock Holmes are characters who are not what they appear to be or who attempt to manipulate the actions and thoughts of others for purposes both good and evil. Just as the ironically named Augustus Milverton is more repulsive to Holmes than any common murderer, so does the person who actually is responsible for the murder in “The Abbey Grange” turn out to impress him as one of the most honorable men he’s ever met. Throughout the streets of London and the manor houses on the fringes of his boundaries, Watson and Holmes continually must navigate through a landscape of moral ambiguity, deceptive intents and the depths of humanity’s capacities for both nobility and shameful contempt.
