The Final Problem

Anonymous asked: Who is Henry Fishguard?

Oh, Anon. I don’t know if you’re lucky because I am about to give you three answers, or unlucky because none of them answer your question.

Answer 1:

Henry Fishguard was a man who was falsely believed to have committed suicide.

Sherlock was working on the case. Because he was, we got a sideways reference to what happened at the end of the episode. (Hey, guys, guess who else never committed suicide ha ha ha.) We also got a dummy in 221B that might just come in handy next series.

Answer 2:

Henry Fishguard was a man who was falsely believed to have committed suicide a long time ago.

The Bow Street Runners were “London’s first professional police force.” Did you notice how old and dusty Sherlock’s book was? That’s because the Henry Fishguard case was from sometime before 1840.

This is absolutely not my area of expertise, but I think the specific name “Henry Fishguard” and his not-suicide were invented to make this joke for the show rather than being based on any real Bow Street Runners case. That’s just based on a very quick Google-check, though. If anyone knows that there was a real Henry, tell me about it and I’ll be happy to pass the word along.

Answer 3:

Henry Fishguard was someone whose case let us see how Sherlock feels about all the cases he takes on.

John was teasing Sherlock about focusing on a crime from a century and a half ago. A crime that it’s unlikely anyone even asked Sherlock to solve. (Slightly funny that John did tease him about it, though, considering that just before this he was asking Sherlock to pick a low-profile case to work on. HE ACTUALLY LISTENED TO YOU, JOHN. HE WAS DOING WHAT YOU WANTED HIM TO, JOHN. HOW MUCH LOWER PROFILE DO YOU THINK IT GETS THAN THIS, JOHN?)

Sherlock responded that all his cases are pressing until they’re solved. If he starts working on a case, it is important to him to finish it.

Hey, doesn’t that attitude sound kind of… familiar?

Jim: Johann Sebastian would be appalled. May I?

Sherlock: Please.

Jim: You know when he was on his deathbed, Bach, he heard his son at the piano playing one of his pieces. The boy stopped before he got to the end.

Sherlock: And the dying man jumped out of his bed, ran straight to the piano, and finished it.

Jim: Couldn’t cope with an unfinished melody.

Sherlock: Neither can you. It’s why you’ve come.

Jim: But be honest, you’re just a tiny bit pleased.

Sherlock: What, with the verdict?

Jim: With me. Back on the streets.

Jim was Sherlock, Sherlock was Jim, and neither one of them could stand to leave their work unfinished. But in their case, they were each the other one’s unfinished work. That’s why this had to be the final problem.

Jim took this chance to carry the theme straight through to the end of the game by tapping out his fake computer key to the rhythm of a composition by Bach.

Jim: There is no key, doofus! Those digits are meaningless. They’re utterly meaningless. You don’t really think a couple of lines of computer code are going to crash the world around our ears? I’m disappointed. I’m disappointed in you, ordinary Sherlock!

Sherlock: But the rhythm—

Jim: Partita No. 1. Thank you, Johann Sebastian Bach!

And then they each did what they had to—they finished their work.

———

So there you have it, Anon. Three answers and no answer. But it was a damn good question. If I didn’t think it would make me look incredibly obnoxious, I would probably say you are a conductor of light.

But I do, so I won’t.