Read Online Andrea Frazer - Holmes and Garden 01 - The Curious Case of the Black Swan Song by Andrea Frazer - Free Book Online Page A

gentlemen’s lavatory with the Victorian fittings still intact, and gazed with wonderment at the decorated pans in the cubicles, one with a bee on the back for gentlemen to aim at.
    He found a number of charming dead-ends, many of them adorned with framed pictures, as if to charm anyone who had the misfortune to find themselves lost in such a hopeless place. He also found Garden’s room twice, not comprehending how he could have done that, when he had not tackled an ascending staircase. Without the courage to knock and admit his failed orienteering skills, he plodded on, losing hope by the minute.
    Finally, he found the linen cupboard which Garden had described to him and from there, managed to locate his own room. He had never been so glad to see a bed with his belongings on it. What a day it had been – and tomorrow would be ever crazier, if his instinct was correct. A lot would be decided tomorrow, and things would be agreed that would affect the whole of his future.

Chapter Six

Saturday
    Garden was the first awake the next morning, but not by choice. At the first wail of the bagpipes, Garden shot upright in bed and cautiously opened one bleary eye to look at his travel clock. Seven o’clock! And he didn’t remember going to Edinburgh. Where the hell was he, and what the dickens was going on? And he suddenly realised where they had relocated Holmes’ erstwhile neighbour, and assumed he was next door to him, Garden, because he was on a ‘bargain break’.
    For a minute or so he was paralysed with amnesia and panic, then he remembered, and rose immediately from the bed faster than would have been recommended, immediately reaching both hands to cradle his throbbing head.
    The noise driving everything else out of his mind, giving him the strength to momentarily overcome the pain, he marched to the next door room and rapped very loudly on it. There was no response, and ‘McCrimmon’s Lament’ skirled on. This time he both knocked and shouted. ‘Hey, you in there, either you stop or I call the RSPCA.’
    It didn’t make any sense, but the volume must have disturbed the piper, for the appalling racket halted with an asthmatic and unmusical wheeze, and the door was opened by a man in full highland regalia, cradling a set of bagpipes in his arms like a beloved baby. ‘Can I help you?’ this vision of Scottishness enquired solicitously.
    ‘Yes! You can shut the f*ck up!’ roared John H., then blushed a deep crimson. He was not accustomed to using language like this and had surprised even himself with the vehemence with which he had spoken. ‘I’m terribly, terribly sorry,’ he apologised. ‘That’s last night’s whisky talking. I was just wondering if you could desist for a while. I’ve got the most vile headache, and a very difficult and important day before me, so I need just a couple more hours’ sleep.’
    ‘No problem,’ replied the tartan-clad man. ‘I’m supposed to have been put in a room well away from other guests. I’ll have a word at Reception when I go downstairs. For now, I’ll just go through my fingering practise, and not blow down the chanter until well after nine o’clock.’
    ‘Thank you. Make that ten, and I’ll be eternally grateful.’
    Garden slewed rather unsteadily back in the direction of his own room and staggered off, almost asleep on his feet, painfully aware that he was still drunk from the night before and hoping that a few more hours’ shut-eye would render him sober enough for what he and Holmes had planned for the day – including the fearful spectacle of his mother looming out of his thoughts at him, breathing fire and brimstone for all she was worth.
    Holmes cautiously opened an eye at eight thirty when the tea he had ordered arrived, the maid letting herself in with a pass key. ‘Just put it on the dressing table,’ he instructed her, shamefully aware that the room still had a cloud of fug just under the ceiling and that the glasses they had used, still