Read Online THE IRREGULAR CASEBOOK OF SHERLOCK HOLMES by Ron Weighell - Free Book Online

Think of Mr Sturleson only hours ago: his fear for his wife and child. It is still in our power to save them. We can ensure that his last fear is never realised; that both his children should not suffer this curse.’
    ‘All Watson,’ interjected Sherlock Holmes, matter of factly. ‘Mr Sturleson said all his children.’
    ‘So he did, Holmes! So he did! Do you see what this means? He would not have said all if he had only two! There must be another child of whom we are not aware!’
    ‘Yes,’ said Holmes despondently, ‘That was obvious, as is the next conclusion which you are doubtless just about to offer, namely that if the whole family is too ashamed to even mention this sibling, then the person in question is either a criminal or is locked away in an institution.’
    I struggled to conceal how disappointed I was to find that my flash of inspiration was not as original as I had thought.
    ‘So this sibling, as a criminal or escaped patient, is surely our killer!’
    Before Holmes could reply, Dodds the butler approached. I met him half way and asked him what he wanted, determined that Holmes should not be disturbed without good reason. To my annoyance, he spoke some irrelevant and trivial nonsense about a stolen knife from the cutlery cupboard. I told him not to bother us with such matters, but Holmes came over and asked Dodds what was wrong. When he heard he insisted on seeing the cupboard at once.
    ‘I have asked Dodds to let me know of anything that happens, Watson, anything at all. Remember what the Good Book tells us about even the lowliest sparrow.’
    At the cutlery cupboard Holmes examined the area minutely, paying particular attention to some dirty foot marks caused by wet feet on the carpet.
    ‘One silver knife taken,’ mused Sherlock Holmes with apparent interest.
    ‘Not for the value of the item, clearly,’ I offered, exasperated at the triviality of the whole matter. ‘Who would leave so much silver here and steal only one silver knife?’
    I had hoped that I might stir Holmes by these words, but the effect upon him surprised even me. He straightened up, turned to me with the old fire in his eyes, and slapped me on the shoulder.
    ‘Watson, once more you have performed the function for which you are so eminently suited: a conductor of light. Your words have made the whole puzzle much clearer.’
    Turning away, he stood for some moments with fingertips to his lips.
    ‘Yes,’ he muttered ‘Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. It does fit the facts——’
    ‘Holmes, I do not see——’
    ‘Oh you see, Watson, and, more to the point, you hear, but as yet you do not understand. Perhaps it is better that you do not. If I am correct, our adversary is a fearful one. Oh yes, Watson, I know the identity of the murderer: the difficult, indeed the vital, question still to be answered is not who, but where?’
    ‘You have lost me, Holmes.’
    ‘I sincerely hope not, Watson. Before this night is out your presence may prove invaluable. Yes,’ he went on, looking up into the sky, ‘yes, it must be tonight, or we can do nothing for another month.’
    As we made our way back to the door, Holmes became quite excited.
    ‘You know, Watson, I have given my life to rationality, suppressing the animal in order to raise the intellect. So in this case I have failed miserably. Deductive reasoning will not entirely serve our turn here, Watson. Sometimes one must assume the thought processes of one’s quarry. Often that has meant thinking like a thief or a murderer, a traitor or a thug. In this case it means descending to the level of the beast.’
    ‘A beast, Holmes?’
    ‘Or as Miss Sturleson so perceptively named it, a werewolf.’
    The change that came over Holmes as he uttered these incredible words was remarkable. He began to pace the house restlessly, dropping to all fours at times to examine the carpets. I swear he sniffed his way around the scene of the first murder like some