"He was a great mind once. Now he haunts his cavernous rooms on Moloch Street, half out of his mind on prisoner's honey. He still take clients, but he passes the work on to promising outsiders. Lucky for you."[1]
The Honey-Addled Detective was once one of the greatest detectives in London, but has suffered the ravages of an addiction to prisoner's honey.
It's Elementary, My Dear
"There are entire books to be formed from the cases the Honey-Addled Detective has solved without knowing it. The constabulary has only heard a quarter of his solutions. His own clients rarely get the whole story."[2]
The Honey-Addled Detective is still recognizable from old newspapers,[3] but his complexion has become sallow, and his face is typically expressionless[4] from being honey-mazed.[5] He has become a recluse,[6] living alone in a Moloch Street apartment[7] and paying his neighbors to keep silent about his whereabouts;[8] on the rare occasions he goes outside, he wears his signature Inverness cape[9] and uses a walking stick.[10] His apartment is well-kept, but always smells unmistakably of prisoner's honey.[11]
The Detective uses honey as an aid in solving cases, taking higher doses for difficult scenarios.[12] He believed that his search for knowledge would benefit humanity,[13] but his relentless pursuit of the truth precipitated his honey addiction.[14] More often than not, he is honey-mazed; his mind is still wandering Parabola,[5] chasing phantoms of unsolved cases[15] or endlessly reliving old victories.[16] The Detective has partaken of nearly every honey blend available in London,[17] including black honey, but excluding red honey.[18] He also smokes tobacco, in the familiar image of the great detective with his pipe.[19] Intriguingly, the Detective's own tragic circumstances have led him to feel sympathy for the melancholy, resentful Flukes.[20]
Despite his addiction, the Detective's intellect remains. In fact, one could write entire books out of the cases the Detective has solved without even realizing it; his own clients rarely receive full explanations, and the Constables have hardly heard the half of his discoveries.[21] The Detective is incredibly attentive to minute details;[22] he can draw clues from the smallest pieces of evidence,[23][24] and with just a glance and perhaps a whiff of the air around him, he can deduce a person's residence and employment.[25] He still takes great joy in solving cases[26] and foiling villains,[27] and his counsel is still sought by young detectives and seasoned professionals alike.[28] Occasionally he takes on a case independently, but more often, he delegates the work to rising talents in the detective world.[29] The Detective is a member of the Candlefinder Society, a group of investigators who occasionally meet up to discuss and collaborate on cases, and is enough of a master of disguise to sometimes even fool his colleagues.[30]
In the Sunless Skies timeline, the Illuminated Archivist, a historian of old London, identifies the Detective as the "honey-wrecked detective".[31] This unfortunately implies that he did not recover from his addiction, and may not have survived it.
Literary Inspiration
The Honey-Addled Detective is essentially a literary export of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes. He resides on Moloch Street, formerly known as Baker Street before the Fall, a deliberate nod to Holmes' address. While Doyle described the detective as wearing an Ulster coat (which has a shorter cape over the shoulders), a litany of illustrations and media adaptations have shown him wearing an Inverness coat, as he does in Fallen London. Of course, his smoking pipe is also a quintessential accessory.
In Doyle’s stories, Holmes has a drug addiction. It is implied that his extraordinary intellect demands constant stimulation, and in the absence of challenging cases, he turns to narcotics (notably cocaine and morphine) to dull the edge of boredom and serve as a substitute for mental engagement. While his use of drugs is often treated matter-of-factly, it is at times shown to be deeply troubling, with implications that his addiction could become, or already is, a serious and debilitating condition. The Honey-Addled Detective, then, is a representation of a future where Holmes' addiction has consumed him almost entirely.
↑Stripes of Wrath, Fallen London"The man straightens and turns. Your lamp picks out a thin, pale face that used to grace newspapers. Old newspapers; from many years ago."
↑Stripes of Wrath, Fallen London"Although the Detective is semi-retired, his sallow, honey-slack features are still capable of an occasional flash of animation when the brain is stimulated by a complex problem. You're seeing that now."
↑ 5.05.1Dreams: A Choice of Reverie, Fallen London"The Detective's body is elsewhere – back in a flat in Moloch Street, most likely. But his mind is here, as present in Parabola as any dream-shade. He is kneeling on the jungle floor, measuring the pawprint of a panther."
↑The Ceremony, Fallen London"The Honey-Addled Detective is, as ever, at home. His mouth gleams gold in the candle-glow of his lowly lit abode, an attic thick with new velvet and the smell of old books. His head lolls as you enter. [...]"
↑Set out to track him down, Fallen London"He's known to keep apartments somewhere in Moloch Street – but he also keeps to himself, and has taken some pains to hide his whereabouts."
↑Making Your Name – Closing the Case: the Honey-Addled Detective, Fallen London"The inhabitants of Moloch Street are reticent. The Detective must have paid them for their silence. But you're certain that's his apartment – there on the top floor, where the candle-flame swims behind the window in a green glass lobster-pot."
↑Stripes of Wrath, Fallen London"The Honey-Addled Detective approaches, Inverness cape around his shoulders. His eyes have become a little glazed since you saw him last."
↑Stripes of Wrath, Fallen London"The Honey-Addled Detective, energised by the thrill of the chase, waves his stick to stop a growler cab. After courteously allowing the Implacable Detective to board first, he squeezes in. You and the Urchin Detective follow."
↑Approach him boastfully, Fallen London"His rooms are scrupulously clean, but the sweetish fug of prisoner's honey hangs in the air, and his eyes are hooded with dreams. "No doubt," he says. "I'm honoured to make your acquaintance." It's difficult to read his tone."
↑Stripes of Wrath, Fallen London"You, of course, are familiar with [...] Prisoner's Honey. Popular among a Bohemian set for its inspiring and sensual qualities. It induces a dreamlike state. I myself use it to reach clarity on difficult cases. It has been a while since my last three-spoon problem."
↑You pursue knowledge because you must, Fallen London"I fear I understand the sentiment all too well." […] "If only I'd been more careful where I sought understanding." He pauses […] "Search for knowledge we would never find above. You may have surpassed me. Don't squander it."
↑Reconnecting to Reality, Fallen London"When you next visit the Honey-Addled Detective, he's threatening his hat stand with a cane. "The chase is at its end. Surrender her Ladyship's jewels and come with me." […] An empty jar of honey lies by his chair."
↑The Case of the Empty Belfry, Fallen London"Honey, you say?" The Honey-Added Detective rouses in his chair, almost knocking over an empty glass of port. "I never touched the scarlet myself, however tempted by its stygian fancies. But once, long ago, I dabbled in the midnight..."
↑The Ceremony, Fallen London""I have always felt a sympathy for those monstrosities. I suspect they might be vastly wiser than we are. Anything so melancholy must be so. When you have lived long enough, when you have suffered enough, you grow... bitter." mumbles the Honey-Addled Detective, his face ashen. [...]"
↑Extract clues from his thoughts, Fallen London"There are entire books to be formed from the cases the Honey-Addled Detective has solved without knowing it. The constabulary has only heard a quarter of his solutions. His own clients rarely get the whole story."
↑Improve the statistical rigour of this investigation, Fallen London"All the botanical character recedes […] In their place is a regimented space, mathematically perfect[…] The density of the mud at […] the Stolen River; the proportion of coal dust in Ealing fireplaces; the frequency of arrest for friends of the Gracious Widow."
↑Introduce your own evidence, Fallen London"Your mind is thickly furnished with evidence – evidence of every kind. Gossip read […], names whispered […] At the Honey-Addled Detective's feet, you cause a pile of distinctly recognisable cigar ash. He sinks his hands in it to the wrists, delighted."
↑Stripes of Wrath, Fallen London"Moonlight leaves a temporary phosphorescence in the eye. Barely perceptible unless one has trained themselves to see it. The edge of your sole still bears faint white marks from chalk, with a texture only found in the Scottish deposits. And the fibres of your clothing are worn just above the pocket. As if you were accustomed to extracting a railway ticket from there each time the conductor arrives."
↑Test the man's skills, Fallen London"Why [...], it's not difficult to get the measure of you." He takes a deep breath. "Mmm. Books. You keep many at your home? Ah, but surely even you wouldn't keep that many. A shop, then?" He turns his attention to your hands. "Are those ink-stains I see? The pen must never be far from your hand."
↑Knowledge is power, Fallen London[…] "Ah, yes – pitting wits against thieves and murderers. Tossing them up into New Newgate with your intellect alone. […] I... appreciate spending time with someone who understands. […] You may have surpassed me. Don't squander it."
↑Working with the Honey-Addled Detective, Fallen London"He was a great mind once. Now he haunts his cavernous rooms on Moloch Street, half out of his mind on prisoner's honey. He still take clients, but he passes the work on to promising outsiders. Lucky for you."
↑Stripes of Wrath, Fallen London"The Banded Sleuth tilts his head to one side. "No," he rumbles. "I was meeting with a Ladybones matron. She wished me to conduct surveillance of…" "… her husband," the Honey-Addled Detective says. "Her husband, the honey importer." "No." The Banded Sleuth recoils. "That woman was not you." "I'm afraid it was." The Implacable Detective gives a rueful shake of the head. "Once he disguised himself as a Khaganian artist, just to paint a dreadful portrait of me. He charged me five Echoes before he took off the beard.""
