Sherlock Holmes in the Great Detective on the Roof of the World by Thomas Kent Miller

Sherlock Holmes in the Great Detective on the Roof of the World by Thomas Kent Miller

Author:Thomas Kent Miller [Miller, Thomas Kent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Adventure, Religion, Action & Adventure, Mystery & Detective, General, fantasy, Holmes; Sherlock (Fictitious Character), Fiction
ISBN: 9781434401878
Google: 8sfqwAEACAAJ
Amazon: 1434401871
Barnesnoble: 1434401871
Goodreads: 2291907
Publisher: Wildside Press
Published: 1900-06-14T06:00:00+00:00


Chapter IV

The Dalai Lama's Story

As chaotic—almost dreamlike—as this whole episode seemed as we lived through it, the interview of the Dalai Lama by Sigerson that followed remains in my mind as the strangest, the most dreamlike. As I sat there in this Oriental hall on the far side of the world, surrounded by Golden Buddhas and all manner of alien accouterments, I watched Sigerson stretch out his long legs and steeple his hands below his thick beard, close his eyes and thereafter fasten on every word the boy uttered.

But here is the worst of the dream: As I watched the scene, I suddenly had the strongest impression of an English drawing room. I blinked and for a moment I thought I saw upright chairs with red velvet seats and backs, fine china set on a polished table, and newspapers scattered about. All during the interview, so long as Sigerson's eyes were closed and his attention was rapt on the Dalai Lama, I felt drawn to that room.

But that is neither here nor there; the things said by the boy should be the focus of this narrative at this point. The starting point of the Dalai Lama's story was Sigerson's query: "Pray tell me about the missing item and the circumstances of the death and theft."

That which follows is the boy's story. As you will see, it left much to be desired.

"Paljori was our honored and most revered librarian since the passing of Brother Tzu, Paljori's mentor, forty-five years ago. Part of Paljori's glory was—and this has never been mentioned to a non-Buddhist, non-Tibetan in millennia—was in the guarding of a holy book that has been handed down through many generations of librarians. The book itself is virtually worthless except for a few high lamas, for whom, of course, it is priceless. Its main value is its cover and box, or case, which are inlaid with gold and encrusted with jewels and are worth a fortune (from a Western perspective). But, what good are gold and jewels to a good Tibetan? None! That is why suspicion fell on you Europeans.

"What is your saying? It is worth a king's ransom. It's no wonder you would take it. But I forgot, in order for you to 'find' the missing item, I should not judge you in advance."

(You notice I felt it necessary to place find in quotation marks above. The reason is that the youngster's tone was such that he made it clear he never doubted our guilt.)

"However," he went on, "Brother Sun-Li, Paljori's apprentice, entered the library, as is his habit, two hours before dawn of the morning in question and found poor Paljori dead with a ceremonial sword through his heart. He was slumped over his prayer rug.

"Brother Sun-Li immediately told the first monk he encountered and in short time, Brother Wan-Po, our revered chief police monk, whom I believe you've met, was at the site of the murder. In short order, he had deduced the guilty parties...and the rest you know.



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