The Closet of Possibility

Sherlock Holmes Times Two

The three of us spent the next half an hour asking questions to one another. We first established there were no familial ties between Sherlock Holmes of the current time and Sherlock Holmes from the future— at least, none of which we could reasonably trace without a detailed genealogy book. In case a client or a member of the police would visit us before Master Harry could resolve the portal problem, Holmes instructed Mr. Sherlock Holmes from the future, who insisted that we call him Sherlock, to claim he was his cousin.

"You have a considerable number of uncles and aunts?" asked Sherlock.

"Not a common thing anymore in your time period, I take it?" remarked Holmes, shocking me more than a little at the implications of this statement.

"We don't have as many children. I think the average birth rate is around 1.85," Sherlock replied.

Sherlock then inquired into Holmes's resume. He appeared deeply amused when Holmes told him he was a private consulting detective.

"So when the police are out of their depth, they consult you?" he asked.

I felt annoyed at his ironic tone.

"He stands alone in Europe as an investor of crime, both in his gifts and in his experience," I said tersely.

Sherlock's amusement lingered, "Famous?"

"Thanks to my chronicler here," said Holmes.

Sherlock smiled broadly but didn't comment on the matter.

We quickly moved to questions related to the future, particularly those related to scientific advancements. It soon became clear the difference in scientific knowledge of our time and that of our guest was simply too vast to cover. Moreover, Sherlock simply assumed his gadgets worked and never thought it necessary to inquire how they worked in depth, very much like the way Holmes and I assumed telegraphs and plumbing worked and felt betrayed whenever they did not. Thus Sherlock couldn't explain very well the mechanics behind a smartphone, let alone a time-jumping portal.

"It astonishes me that things so miraculous and marvelous would fail to draw a sense of wonder," said I.

Sherlock shrugged his shoulders.

"Overexposure and over-familiarity breeding contempt," he said. "It doesn't help the Market introduces a new gadget every quarter."

That moment, our doorbell rang. Holmes and I both remembered Sherlock's appalling state of dress, completely unfit for polite company, so we wasted no time rushing Sherlock into Holmes's bedroom to find suitable attire for him. Much to our consternation, we discovered Sherlock, while an equal to Holmes in height, had a much healthier and broader frame.

"Mr. Holmes? Dr. Watson?" inquired the voice of Inspector Stanley Hopkins of the Scotland Yard

I quickly reentered the sitting room to greet the young Inspector. After shaking hands, I told Hopkins that Holmes was in and would meet him shortly. As we waited, I found myself in a bit of a conundrum. On the one hand, I devoutly hoped Sherlock would remain hidden, lest his lack of everyday knowledge of my time may land him into trouble. On the other hand, I couldn't help but desire to see how he would react to the current-day police.

About five minutes later, Holmes and Sherlock re-entered the sitting room. Sherlock was wearing a blue tie that did his plum-coloured shirt no favours, a woolly waistcoat completely at odds with the silky texture of the shirt's fabric, and a dusty black jacket that clashed horribly against his sleek black trousers, which I only then noticed had a scandalously low waistline.