In Pursuit of the Dead by Arthur Hall

Author:Arthur Hall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sherlock holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, sherlock holmes fiction, sherlock holmes novel
ISBN: 9781787054189
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2019-02-28T00:00:00+00:00

10. A Warning

The dark streets were relatively quiet at this hour, and we found ourselves in Kensington before long. The house was a terraced building of the type usually considered to be the accommodation of the working classes as indeed this was, but the interior was spotless and well-maintained. Mrs. Martland took us through a dimly lit hallway to a parlour where her husband lay on a low chaise-longue clutching his stomach.

At my touch, he opened his eyes. “Doctor Watson, thank God.”

“What has happened to you, Martland? How did this come about?”

“I took my wife to The Silver Crown,” he gasped between sucking in great gulps of air, “for dinner. As we got home I felt as if my insides were on fire, and it’s getting worse. Help me, please!”

“Open your mouth.” As he did so I pressed a spatula onto his tongue. There were dark patches there and on the inside of his mouth, and his breath smelled strangely.

“Poison?” Holmes said from behind me.

“Definitely. We must induce vomiting, immediately.”

I made to turn my patient over, but his body convulsed in a great heave and was still. An agonised expression was frozen on his face and his eyes had lost all animation. My stethoscope confirmed the obvious. After a while I lifted a blanket that was draped over an armchair and laid it over the body.

“I am so very sorry, Mrs. Martland,” I said sincerely.

“My condolences, Madam.” Holmes added.

She stared at me unbelievingly, then at Holmes, then back at me. If I expected her to become hysterical I was in error, for she appeared totally unmoved. Quite slowly and calmly she sat down, and I recognised the symptoms of deep shock. Moments later she began to shiver, unconsciously drawing her shawl tightly around her body.

I went to the kitchen and made her some sweet tea, while Holmes spoke to her in a low, comforting voice. Not for the first time, I witnessed an aspect of his character that rarely manifested itself.

Mrs. Martland drank and put the cup aside absently, and for later use I gave her laudanum from my bag. I explained to her that it would be necessary for us to inform the police, because of the nature of her husband’s death.

She nodded her understanding, and spoke in a toneless voice. “Of course. I will get a neighbour to sit with me for a while.”

We took our leave after we had ascertained that this had been done and that the lady was as comfortable as could be expected. Fortunately we found a cab nearby, its drunken passenger having staggered into a house at the end of the street.

“She took it rather well, I think.” Holmes said as we turned a corner.

“The full realisation will come to her later. I have left her a sedative.”

“Let us hope that it will help. However, she was able to furnish me with a full account of tonight’s events, while you boiled the kettle.”

I turned to him, astounded. “You questioned her, already? Holmes, I would rather you had spared her feelings, for now.

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