The Lost Files of Sherlock Holmes by Paul D. Gilbert

Author:Paul D. Gilbert [Paul D. Gilbert]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9780719805349
Publisher: Robert Hale
Published: 2012-03-24T16:00:00+00:00

THE OLD GREY HORSE

It was a particularly tempestuous evening in early March that found Sherlock Holmes and I sharing the view of Baker Street from our large bay window.

A coarse rain was being driven against our glass by a typically strong, westerly March wind and those passers-by foolhardy enough to venture out into the eye of the storm were being blown along as if they were so many large pieces of street litter.

‘Ha!’ Holmes suddenly exclaimed, ‘It must be an errand of great importance that brings those dank and bedraggled creatures onto the street this night, eh, Watson?’

‘Indeed, it must be Holmes and none more so than that poor fool pushing his way forward on our side of the street, down there to the Marylebone end,’ I pointed out, ‘he appears to be searching for a particular address.’

Before I had finished speaking, Holmes had turned suddenly away and began dressing for the harsh conditions outside. In answer to my astonished look, Holmes explained.

‘Whilst you have busied yourself at your practice these past few days, I am glad to report that I have not been entirely idle myself. Indeed, Watson, I have been of some small assistance to our old friend Lestrade in the matter of some, apparently connected, jewellery thefts. Though the conclusion of this matter is, in my estimation, some way off, Lestrade has engaged a valuable informer whom he promised, would come to me with some vital information this very evening.

‘I trust you will be able to amuse yourself for the next twelve hours or so, for, unless I am very much mistaken, that poor bedraggled fellow you most astutely observed, is this same man and, therefore, I must leave at once.’

To my astonishment, as he finished speaking, we could hear a loud knocking at the street door below and, without waiting for a summons from Mrs Hudson, Holmes was gone.

For a few moments I stayed by the window and watched Holmes and Lestrade’s informer hasten down the road through the thin veil of rain. Then with a shiver I turned away and took to my chair by the fire, well fortified with a glass of brandy and a cigar.

I realized, after a few reflective moments, that it would be folly to speculate as to Holmes’s movements. From past experience I knew that once on a scent Holmes could disappear for days on end, rather than merely hours. His energy, at times like this, was boundless and his self-deprivation of both rest and sustenance sometimes bordered on the dangerous. He would then return at last, usually satisfied with his efforts, but always totally spent.

I was sure such would be the case in this instance, and resolved, before turning in, to busy myself the following day at my surgery once again and extract more information from Holmes in the evening, should he have returned by then.

I returned to Baker Street at six o’clock the following evening, but was disgruntled to hear from Mrs Hudson that I was to partake of a lonely supper and that no word had been received from Holmes all day.

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