Read Online The Adventure of the Skittering Shadow: Sherlock Holmes in Space by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Sam Gamble - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Sam Gamble
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I’m very much awake now.”
I was too. Mind-numbing terror first thing in the morning was a potent thing.
“My name is Helen Stoner,” said the woman, her hands now still and relaxed in her lap. “And I think – I know – Two months ago, my twin sister was murdered. And I want to hire you to find her killer, Mr. Holmes.”
Chapter 02
After my initial surprise had worn off, I risked a glance at Holmes, who appeared to be trying (and failing) to contain his delight. Only yesterday, he had complained that he was bored with his current crop of cases. Since he was having difficulties, I took it upon myself to ask our guest what had brought her to such a (shocking) conclusion.
“Julia is – was my identical twin,” answered Helen Stoner with quiet dignity. “We shared an apartment in Nerio’s Yuri Gagarin borough. One morning about two months ago, I went to wake her for breakfast and instead found her dead. There was an autopsy, but the manner and cause of my sister’s death could not be determined. The inquest found that at the time of her death my sister was alone in a room in which the window and door were locked. Homicide was ruled out, and her case closed. Ten days ago, I retained a second forensic pathologist to review my sister’s medical records. Unfortunately the second doctor agreed with the first that Julia had simply dropped dead. But that’s impossible! My sister was in perfect health! And we were identical twins. If there had been anything wrong with her physiology, then there should be a flaw in mine too. I have had myself tested and retested, and I am in perfect health.”
“It isn’t always that simple,” I said, feeling pity for the distraught woman. “Sometimes environmental factors, lifestyle choices, and even luck play a part in one’s health.”
“And sometimes its murder,” interjected Miss Stoner angrily. Turning her focus entirely on Holmes, she said pleadingly, “Please, help me. I don’t know what to do. My sister and I were together from our very first moment until the moment that she died. We shared dorm rooms, apartments, and even a husband – my third and her first. We had planned to be together our whole lives and die on the very same day. And now she’s just gone. I don’t know how or why or who took her away. I don’t know if I could have done anything to save her. All I know is that someone murdered her and I won’t be able to sleep or eat or even breathe easily until I know everything. I can’t let go of her until her murderer is punished.
“But this isn’t a problem whose solution I can discover on my own. I am not a detective nor do I have the makings of one. If I had any faculty for the art of deduction, I would have already proved that my poor sister had been murdered and discovered her killer. I need your help, Mr. Holmes. Without it, I’ll just keep fumbling around in the dark and wasting my money on fools.”
Holmes sat quietly for several moments, his probing gaze steady on Miss Stoner, who bore up under it admirably. She returned his regard, her back straight, her shoulders squared, and her hands motionless in her lap. Her entire being was still, waiting.
“Deduction is a science, not an art,” he said presently. “I am a scientist the same as yourself and the same as your sister. Tell me, was your sister still attached to him at the time of her death?” At Miss Stoner’s bewildered look, Holmes elaborated, saying impatiently, “The husband; were they still married at the time of her death?”
“No, that was over years ago. There were no hard feelings, and Bill – William Chapman – came to the funeral. He didn’t even inherit from her. He had no reason to kill her – no one did. She didn’t have any enemies; at least, none that she knew of. And as far as I know, she wasn’t seeing anyone.”
“It will be a difficult but not impossible case,” said Holmes, frowning. “It has
I was too. Mind-numbing terror first thing in the morning was a potent thing.
“My name is Helen Stoner,” said the woman, her hands now still and relaxed in her lap. “And I think – I know – Two months ago, my twin sister was murdered. And I want to hire you to find her killer, Mr. Holmes.”
Chapter 02
After my initial surprise had worn off, I risked a glance at Holmes, who appeared to be trying (and failing) to contain his delight. Only yesterday, he had complained that he was bored with his current crop of cases. Since he was having difficulties, I took it upon myself to ask our guest what had brought her to such a (shocking) conclusion.
“Julia is – was my identical twin,” answered Helen Stoner with quiet dignity. “We shared an apartment in Nerio’s Yuri Gagarin borough. One morning about two months ago, I went to wake her for breakfast and instead found her dead. There was an autopsy, but the manner and cause of my sister’s death could not be determined. The inquest found that at the time of her death my sister was alone in a room in which the window and door were locked. Homicide was ruled out, and her case closed. Ten days ago, I retained a second forensic pathologist to review my sister’s medical records. Unfortunately the second doctor agreed with the first that Julia had simply dropped dead. But that’s impossible! My sister was in perfect health! And we were identical twins. If there had been anything wrong with her physiology, then there should be a flaw in mine too. I have had myself tested and retested, and I am in perfect health.”
“It isn’t always that simple,” I said, feeling pity for the distraught woman. “Sometimes environmental factors, lifestyle choices, and even luck play a part in one’s health.”
“And sometimes its murder,” interjected Miss Stoner angrily. Turning her focus entirely on Holmes, she said pleadingly, “Please, help me. I don’t know what to do. My sister and I were together from our very first moment until the moment that she died. We shared dorm rooms, apartments, and even a husband – my third and her first. We had planned to be together our whole lives and die on the very same day. And now she’s just gone. I don’t know how or why or who took her away. I don’t know if I could have done anything to save her. All I know is that someone murdered her and I won’t be able to sleep or eat or even breathe easily until I know everything. I can’t let go of her until her murderer is punished.
“But this isn’t a problem whose solution I can discover on my own. I am not a detective nor do I have the makings of one. If I had any faculty for the art of deduction, I would have already proved that my poor sister had been murdered and discovered her killer. I need your help, Mr. Holmes. Without it, I’ll just keep fumbling around in the dark and wasting my money on fools.”
Holmes sat quietly for several moments, his probing gaze steady on Miss Stoner, who bore up under it admirably. She returned his regard, her back straight, her shoulders squared, and her hands motionless in her lap. Her entire being was still, waiting.
“Deduction is a science, not an art,” he said presently. “I am a scientist the same as yourself and the same as your sister. Tell me, was your sister still attached to him at the time of her death?” At Miss Stoner’s bewildered look, Holmes elaborated, saying impatiently, “The husband; were they still married at the time of her death?”
“No, that was over years ago. There were no hard feelings, and Bill – William Chapman – came to the funeral. He didn’t even inherit from her. He had no reason to kill her – no one did. She didn’t have any enemies; at least, none that she knew of. And as far as I know, she wasn’t seeing anyone.”
“It will be a difficult but not impossible case,” said Holmes, frowning. “It has
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