The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: The Venerable Tiger by Sam Siciliano

Author:Sam Siciliano [Siciliano, Sam]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Isabel had two glasses of brandy and then went to lie down. She gave St. Clair a parting embrace, thanking him profusely. She wondered aloud if she might take a few drops of laudanum to help calm her nerves, but Michelle sternly told her that was unnecessary, that the brandy should provide sedation enough.

Before St. Clair left, Holmes asked him if he had any enemies. The solicitor gave him a curious look. “In my position, it is unavoidable, I fear, but none, I trust, who would take a shot at me. Besides, as I said, the gunfire seemed directed at Miss Stone.”

Holmes’s gray eyes showed a certain sardonic humor. “Indeed?”

St. Clair looked very grave. “I hope you can protect her, Mr. Holmes.”

“I shall do my best, sir.”

St. Clair nodded. “Good day, then.” He strode across the expanse of the hall toward the door.

Helen had appeared and was obviously eager to speak with Michelle, so I decided I would accompany Holmes out to the gazebo. First, however, Holmes turned to Mrs. Baxter, who had been watching with her usual stern frown, and asked if he might speak briefly with Ramesh and Nate.

She sent a maid to fetch them, but the girl soon returned to tell us that neither man was in his room. Holmes gave a curt nod, and he was silent as we made our way through the woods. We found Jack and Grimbold seated in the shade of the gazebo in comfortable armchairs and smoking from the hookah.

Holmes told them what had happened and that a revolver was missing. Grimbold merely shrugged and said, “Another prank, like the snake, I suppose—although they had better return my revolver!”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I exclaimed. “Shooting at someone is hardly a prank!”

Grimbold gazed curiously at me, then exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Calm yourself, Doctor. It’s a good thing you don’t have angina. You’d give yourself an attack of apoplexy. It must have been a prank. If not, the two would be dead by now.”

“Not necessarily,” I said. “The person could have been a very bad shot.”

Grimbold laughed. “A man armed with a six-shot revolver against two unarmed people! He could have walked right up to them from behind and shot them dead. No, only a prank.”

I turned to Holmes. “Tell him it was not a prank.”

Holmes shrugged. “I cannot. The episode raises too many questions.” He glanced again at Grimbold. “Have you seen Nate and Ramesh recently?”

Grimbold shook his head. “No. They probably went for a walk to the village. It’s such a fine day.”

“One other thing, Grimbold. Does Mrs. Baxter know anything about firearms?”

Grimbold stared incredulously at him, then laughed loudly. “What a devious mind you have, Sherlock Holmes! I have no idea, but I very much doubt it.”

Jack exhaled a cloud of smoke, then held forth the wooden end of the braided hookah hose. “Join us, Holmes. We can share a hose.”

I sat with them under the gazebo for an hour or so. The wolf and the tiger were gamboling about on the grassy expanse before the great oak.

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