Sherlock Holmes and the Queen of Diamonds by Steve Hayes & David Whitehead

Author:Steve Hayes & David Whitehead [Hayes, Steve & Whitehead, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781444813883
Google: 4VzJMwEACAAJ
Amazon: 0709094787
Barnesnoble: 0709094787
Goodreads: 16439866
Publisher: Robert Hale
Published: 2012-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

Every Picture Tells a Story

Four nights later Charlie Poole, the fifty-year-old night-watchman at the three-storey Britannia Warehouse overlooking St Katherine’s Dock, settled down for another quiet eight-hour shift.

He had no idea that it was to be his last.

Once Charlie had been a squat, brawny man with broad shoulders and knuckles as big and hard as chestnuts. He’d spent his early life fighting all-comers at the family boxing booth in Aberdare and in his time had fought hundreds of bouts, maybe more than a thousand.

Each and every one had taken its toll. His face was scarred, his nose flattened, his ears now great misshapen lumps of mangled cartilage clinging to each side of his head. All those punches had done something to his brain as well, slowing his thinking so that it became increasingly hard for him to grasp even simple things. Because of that his reactions had also slowed, and no one wanted to employ a boxer who couldn’t hold his own against younger, fitter, hungrier club fighters, no matter how likeable he was.

So Charlie had been forced to move east and take this job at the warehouse. It was simple work. Most nights he settled comfortably beside the brazier in the far back of the ground floor and dozed the night away. Even the constant tattoo of rats scurrying from tea chest to tea chest had become like a lullaby to him.

Tonight he turned the bull’s-eye lantern a little higher and unfolded the discarded copy of the Illustrated London News he’d retrieved on his way to work. He couldn’t read very well but the Illustrated London News was just that – illustrated – and he enjoyed looking at all the pictures.

Nothing ever happened at the Britannia Warehouse, and he didn’t expect that tonight would be any different. Settling the magazine on his lap, he took out an old knife and deftly peeled his nightly apple. This was another of his evening rituals – peeling the apple without stopping. At last the long spiral of mottled skin detached from the apple and he allowed himself a smile of satisfaction.

He was still good for something.

He heard another small, scuffling sound behind him. Bloody rats were more bold and restless than usual, he thought. He turned, intending to frighten them off … only to see that rats hadn’t caused the noise.

He had a brief glimpse of a man in a black hood with a raised club in one hand and then …

The club smashed Charlie on the forehead and he spilled forward out of the chair, unconscious.

His attacker stood over him for a moment, admiring his handiwork, then took off his hood to reveal Jack Liggett. He whistled. Figures detached themselves from the shadows behind him – Alfie Adams, closely followed by Desmond O’Leary and Olwenyo Wadlock, pushing carts ahead of them.

‘Start loadin’ up,’ Jack ordered. ‘And don’t miss nothin’ or the Cage’ll have your hides.’

As they set to work, Jack noticed the peeled apple. He picked it up and dusted

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