Read Online Sherlock Holmes and The Scarlet Thread of Murder by Luke Benjamen Kuhns - Free Book Online

The man looked somewhat disappointed to be discharged so abruptly but agreed and returned to the house.
    â€œWhat do you make of it, Brett?” he asked me while he perused the interior of the shed.
    â€œWell, it seems that this Mrs. Edwards, I mean Goodtree, is perhaps unrealistically worried. If his landlord isn’t worried about the length of time he’s been gone, why is she?”
    â€œPerhaps she has some information that she’s not passed over to us. Are you not wondering which woman the landlord saw Jackson with?”
    â€œAh! So she must know about this other woman? She’s worried he’s run off with her.” said I. “But why didn’t she tell us this?”
    â€œQuite right, why indeed,” mumbled Hewitt. He ran his finger along a table and sniffed it. He knelt down and dabbed something on the floor. Then, with a heave, he withdrew a chest from underneath the table and opened the top. “Hmm, see what we have here, Brett.”
    I walked over and looked inside. “These are...”
    â€œExplosives,” said a voice from behind us.
    Hewitt and I turned to see two figures standing in the doorway.
    â€œHow can you know that?” Hewitt asked, standing up.
    â€œElementary,” said one of the men, taking a couple of sniffs.
    â€œThere is an aroma,” said a moustachioed man who sniffed the air. “Yes, this place has certainly been a storage room for explosive powders.”
    â€œWho are you?” I demanded.
    Chapter 10
    D.I. Edmund Reid
    The Thames Stand Off
    August 1890
    I looked at my clock. It was nine thirty, and the night air was crisp. The sky was cloudless and the stars shone down like piercing white diamonds in the sky. I wished the peace of the heavens would descend upon us here and now.
    â€œTonight we go to the White Stag,” I said to my group of officers. “We’re going to raid and impound anyone we find with the whores. I care not who they are or what their rank is.”
    â€œWhy are we singling out this whorehouse?” an officer asked.
    â€œOne by one I’ll see all these places closed. This particular one has a connection to the Underground explosion a few days ago. A Jewish anarchist, Lamech, was there the night before the explosion.” I pointed to Mr White standing at the back. “Mr White helped to identify the explosive which was attributed to Lamech. Now the Jew is dead, poisoned by the food and drink that he had at the White Stag. The bartender, Mr Jeffry, was warned what would happen without his cooperation. Tonight we return and take his business away.”
    My small army of three maria rattled and rushed towards the White Stag. Hooves and wheels battered upon the cobbled roads, creating a sound akin to a war-like charge, which reverberated between the buildings. Two of the maria broke off to surround different exits while mine continued towards the front. My men had arrived and a few were standing watch outside the back doors while I and the rest stormed the front door. The others immediately rushed up the stairs to the rooms. Men shouted abuse as their whorings were interrupted. The women were screaming as they, and their clients, were apprehended.
    â€œWhere’s the bartender?” I demanded of one of the staff. The men in the parlour were taken aback by our entrance. Some stared in shock while others jumped and ran towards various exits. I took a man by the collar. “Where is he?”
    â€œHe’s out back!” said the man. “Ran like a headless chick.”
    I darted behind the bar and pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen area. As I came through, I was greeted with an ear-piercing boom. I ducked at the sound; I was being fired upon. I withdrew my revolver and hid behind a couple of barrels.
    â€œJeffry!” I shouted. “Stop this now. You knew this was coming.” I peered over the barrel. Another shot was fired. An officer burst through the