I think I knew that Stephen King had written a Sherlock Holmes story, but finding “The Doctor’s Case” was still a bit of a surprise. Detective fiction wasn’t really his thing. Luckily this came out in 1987, a time when King was writing at the height of his considerable powers. I’ve written before about the Rule of Ten when it comes to authors, and for King you could place his big decade roughly in the 1980s. 1987 was the same year as Misery, one of his best books. So Holmes was in good hands here.
The doctor whose case this is, you’ll be interested to know, is Dr. Watson himself. The hook here is that it is Watson who actually solves the case, or mostly solves it. And this is no small matter of just providing Holmes with a helpful nudge, perhaps unconsciously. No, this is a prize “locked room” mystery that Lestrade has specially invited Holmes in to investigate and it is Watson who figures out how the murder was committed. Admittedly the house where the crime took place is full of cats and Holmes has an allergy to felines so he is congested and breaking out in a rash, meaning he’s not operating in peak condition, but still it’s impressive how Watson scoops him. And Holmes does give him credit, while belittling him a bit at the end for not extending his observations so far as to grasp the full story of what happened.
This is a solid pastiche that never winks at the reader with parodic intent but deals out various canonical elements while presenting a neat puzzle that’s basically a sort of magic trick. Then there’s a denouement that involves a shuffle of moral justice that Doyle often indulged. In short, King knew the assignment and delivered. Whatever else you want to say about him, the man has always been a total pro.
Alex Good 