Elementary, my dear Highness

For Sherlock Holmes, she was always the princess. Holmes had met many members of the Royal Family in the course of his work, but there was only one whose name he spoke with a certain wry admiration.

"You may laugh, Watson," he once said to me, "but that little lady has more power in her crooked little finger than the Queen has in the whole of the Household Cavalry."

"There is a word for that sort of power," I said stiffly.

Holmes laughed. "Could the word you are thinking of be 'manipulative'?" he said. "Odd how that word springs to people's lips when they talk of her. And yet I found her ... oddly appealing."

The Princess had come our way one wintry evening when the taxis were edging head-to-tail down a crowded Baker Street and Mrs Hudson had just brought in a steaming tray of tea and crumpets. I was about to take a first buttery bite when the bell rang.

"I should put up a notice saying 'Do Not Disturb' during tea time," said Holmes wistfully. "But if it is a client, we cannot afford to turn her away."

"Or him," I said.

"No, no, Watson. I fancy it is a lady. I can hear Mrs Hudson coming up the stairs. There is someone with her whose footfall is so soft that it is inaudible. That cannot be a man. Men do not walk more quietly than Mrs Hudson."

As usual, my friend was right. It was a lady - indeed, one of the noblest in the land, and one of the most beautiful, whose name had not been off society's lips for many a long month.

"It is very good of you to see me, Mr Holmes."

"It is a pleasure for us, Your Highness. Would you care to sit down?"

"You know who I am, then?" She did not seem displeased at being recognised.

"I know your name and your rank, and that you are married to him who shall one day rule over us."

"But nothing else?"

"Apart from the fact that you are suffering from an eating disorder, that you have grown apart from your husband, that you like to keep fit physically and that you have recently made an unsuccessful suicide bid, no, I know nothing."

She gasped. "Mr Holmes, I am shocked that you should repeat the tittle- tattle you read in the newspapers."

"Madam, I never read tittle-tattle in the newspapers. I leave that to Dr Watson here."

"Then how on earth ...?"

"Observation, ma'am. I see you are not wearing an engagement or wedding ring. In a married woman this betokens, consciously or unconsciously, disaffection from the marriage. When you sat down, you moved your chair so that the light could fall more effectively on your face. I find that chair heavy, yet you lifted it without effort. You are therefore undergoing some sort of gymnastic training."

"And my eating disorder?"

"I could not help noticing that, perhaps without realising it, you picked up and ate one of Watson's crumpets as you sat down. You are therefore a compulsive eater. You are also very slim. There is only one way a compulsive eater can keep slim, is there not, Doctor?"

I nodded uncomfortably.

"And my suicide bid?" said the Princess, almost proudly.

Holmes smiled.

"The big, attractive bracelets on your wrist do not quite hide the bandages underneath. You have recently had an accident to your wrists. To have a cut on one wrist could be an accident. To have a cut on both ...."

"When you explain it, Mr Holmes, it seems so simple," said the Princess.

"So my friend Watson tells me," said Holmes drily. "Now, ma'am, you have some problem you wish to present to me?"

"I think my husband has been seeing another woman," said the Princess.

"Seeing another woman about what?" said Holmes.

"About three times a fortnight," said the Princess.

"Let us not fence with words," said Holmes. "You suspect your husband of infidelity? And you wish me to investigate?"

"Yes, Mr Holmes," said the Princess, turning her wounded, lovely eyes on him. "For the sake of my boys, and for the country, and for my own happiness, I implore you to help me in this matter!"

Holmes sat for a moment, as if struggling with his thoughts. Then brusquely he spoke. "I am sorry, ma'am, but I never take on divorce work. Not even at the highest level. It only leads to trouble."

Her eyes flashed. She left the room. We never saw her again.

Holmes sat pensively for a while, then said: "Did you see the way her soft, wounded eyes changed when I turned her case down, Watson? They went very hard and cold. I would not care to be that young woman's enemy. What a woman, Watson. What a woman."