Read Online Sherlock Holmes & The Master Engraver (Sherlock Holmes Revival) by Ross Husband - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ross Husband
Tags: detective fiction
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unique analytical abilities; to be able to exercise that mysterious skill which only he can bring to bear in such problematical situations – the gift of sorting the players into their proper places – the prime suspects, their accomplices, the unwitting assistants and lowly hired hands quite ignorant of the far greater and more sinister enterprise into which they had been gulled. At the conclusion of my lengthy but quite ineffectual deliberations I was really none the wiser, save for the fact that I was struck by one most disquieting notion; every player in my nocturnal escapade could readily be accounted for within Mr Petch’s narrative, with a single notable exception.
Who was the tall shadowy man I glimpsed behind the glazier? I was convinced he was one and the same, apparently heavily moustachioed, as the man who appeared to be directing the printing of the currency at the lunatic revelry of my dreams in Baker Street. I could make no more of the troubling matter and resolved to keep my thoughts private until such time as matters became clearer.
* * *
Christmas day passed quite uneventfully. I spent much of the time reading before the fire; at two o’clock Mrs Hudson served a very decent lunch of goose and plum pudding, which I consumed with relish. Holmes, by contrast, was in a high fever of activity; he spent the morning issuing a flurry of telegraph messages, drafting and then despatching letters by hansom, and throughout all, paid scant attention to my various comments and questions, and even less to our meal, much to Mrs Hudson’s evident frustration.
Only later that Christmas Day evening, after he had consumed three pipes of Barkers’ strongest Twist in complete silence, and a lengthy telegram and two hand-written notes had been delivered, did his mood mellow. The contents of the telegram appeared to cause him some small perplexity, while the two notes plainly improved his spirits considerably.
“Forgive me Watson; I don’t doubt I have been a somewhat churlish companion at Christmas, but now matters are resolving themselves by the hour!”
“I am heartily pleased to hear it. What news?” “Well, for one thing I suspect I now know who is not the perpetrator of the crime, and second, it is not only London’s sole consulting detective who was at a loose-end over the festive season!”
“To whom can you be referring Holmes?”
“I refer to a pair of our city’s most accomplished criminals. They exist at the polar extremes of their mischievous trade, and I have crossed swords with both in years past. But they have their uses.
“So do not be in the least bit surprised if, in the morning, there are one or two rather unsavoury types at work here. But be most circumspect in what you say in their hearing – they are both exceedingly proficient criminals and will only be present in, what shall I say, a technical capacity. They need know no more of our commission.”
* * *
CHAPTER FIVE
A Den of Thieves
The following morning I again awakened early, and upon entering the parlour, was greeted by a strange sight, and two even stranger visitors. I could discern upon the instant, from Holmes’ lively demeanour, that he had made significant progress in his enquiries.
The workbench had been moved and quite cleared of the, presumably concluded, chemical experiment, now replaced by a rank of Bunsens, a gas-ring, retort stands and other small equipment whose application I could not immediately determine. Holmes desk, for the first time in my recall, was wholly cleared of any papers or articles of any kind. The room smelled faintly of hot wax.
“There you are Watson, timely as ever! There is hot coffee on the table. But first some introductions; gentlemen, this is my estimable friend and advisor Doctor John Watson, who works closely with me from time to time. Should either of you sustain hurt during our work, I advise you to stay
Who was the tall shadowy man I glimpsed behind the glazier? I was convinced he was one and the same, apparently heavily moustachioed, as the man who appeared to be directing the printing of the currency at the lunatic revelry of my dreams in Baker Street. I could make no more of the troubling matter and resolved to keep my thoughts private until such time as matters became clearer.
* * *
Christmas day passed quite uneventfully. I spent much of the time reading before the fire; at two o’clock Mrs Hudson served a very decent lunch of goose and plum pudding, which I consumed with relish. Holmes, by contrast, was in a high fever of activity; he spent the morning issuing a flurry of telegraph messages, drafting and then despatching letters by hansom, and throughout all, paid scant attention to my various comments and questions, and even less to our meal, much to Mrs Hudson’s evident frustration.
Only later that Christmas Day evening, after he had consumed three pipes of Barkers’ strongest Twist in complete silence, and a lengthy telegram and two hand-written notes had been delivered, did his mood mellow. The contents of the telegram appeared to cause him some small perplexity, while the two notes plainly improved his spirits considerably.
“Forgive me Watson; I don’t doubt I have been a somewhat churlish companion at Christmas, but now matters are resolving themselves by the hour!”
“I am heartily pleased to hear it. What news?” “Well, for one thing I suspect I now know who is not the perpetrator of the crime, and second, it is not only London’s sole consulting detective who was at a loose-end over the festive season!”
“To whom can you be referring Holmes?”
“I refer to a pair of our city’s most accomplished criminals. They exist at the polar extremes of their mischievous trade, and I have crossed swords with both in years past. But they have their uses.
“So do not be in the least bit surprised if, in the morning, there are one or two rather unsavoury types at work here. But be most circumspect in what you say in their hearing – they are both exceedingly proficient criminals and will only be present in, what shall I say, a technical capacity. They need know no more of our commission.”
* * *
CHAPTER FIVE
A Den of Thieves
The following morning I again awakened early, and upon entering the parlour, was greeted by a strange sight, and two even stranger visitors. I could discern upon the instant, from Holmes’ lively demeanour, that he had made significant progress in his enquiries.
The workbench had been moved and quite cleared of the, presumably concluded, chemical experiment, now replaced by a rank of Bunsens, a gas-ring, retort stands and other small equipment whose application I could not immediately determine. Holmes desk, for the first time in my recall, was wholly cleared of any papers or articles of any kind. The room smelled faintly of hot wax.
“There you are Watson, timely as ever! There is hot coffee on the table. But first some introductions; gentlemen, this is my estimable friend and advisor Doctor John Watson, who works closely with me from time to time. Should either of you sustain hurt during our work, I advise you to stay
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