Der Whiskyclub unterwgs nach Berlin… via Liverpoolstreet Station…
>>I saw nothing of Holmes all day, but at the hour named he returned, grave, preoccupied, and aloof. At such times it was wiser to leave him to himself.
„Has Amberley been here yet?“
„Ah! I am expecting him.“
He was not disappointed, for presently the old fellow arrived with a very worried and puzzled expression upon his austere face.
„I’ve had a telegram, Mr. Holmes. I can make nothing of it.“ He handed it over, and Holmes read it aloud.
„COME AT ONCE WITHOUT FAIL. CAN GIVE YOU INFORMATION AS TO YOUR RECENT LOSS. ELMAN. THE VICARAGE.“
„Dispatched at 2:10 from Little Purlington,“ said Holmes. „Little Purlington is in Essex, I believe, not far from Frinton. Well, of course you will start at once. This is evidently from a responsible person, the vicar of the place. Where is my Crockford? Yes, here we have him: ‚J.C. Elman, M.A., Living of Moosmoor cum Little Purlington.‘ Look up the trains, Watson.“
„There is one at 5:20 from Liverpool Street.“
„Excellent. You had best go with him, Watson. He may need help or advice. Clearly we have come to a crisis in this affair.“
Little Purlington is not an easy place to reach, for it is on a branch line. My remembrance of the journey is not a pleasant one, for the weather was hot, the train slow, and my companion sullen and silent, hardly talking at all save to make an occasional sardonic remark as to the futility of our proceedings. When we at last reached the little station it was a two-mile drive before we came to the Vicarage, where a big, solemn, rather pompous clergyman received us in his study. Our telegram lay before him.<<
The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle