Sherlock Holmes and the Whitechapel Vampire by Dean Turnbloom

Author:Dean Turnbloom
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Sherlock Holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, sherlock holmes novels, jack the ripper, vampire fiction
ISBN: 9781780921242
Publisher: Andrews UK Limited 2012
Published: 2012-01-16T00:00:00+00:00

***

September 27, 1888

“I see the Inspector is very punctual,” Holmes drily observed from the window, checking his watch as he tamped tobacco into his pipe.

“Doesn’t surprise me in the least,” Watson replied. “He appeared to me to be very well organized, unlike some at Scotland Yard.”

Upon hearing their landlady answering the door, Holmes called down the stairs, “Ask the good Inspector to come right up, Mrs. Hudson, we’ve been expecting him.”

Abberline had removed his coat while ascending the seventeen stairs to Watson and Holmes’s apartments. Upon entering, he nodded to Dr. Watson, “Doctor,” he said, then, turning, “Mr. Holmes, I presume.” Abberline extended his right hand, holding his bowler in his left. He was quite satisfied with Holmes’s appearance, which was nearly as he expected in all respects, lean, taller than himself, sharp features with an intelligent brow.

“My dear Inspector Abberline,” accepting his hand, “I congratulate you for successfully navigating the potholed street and not soaking your right foot again.”

“Mrs. Hudson told you of my first visit, then?” asked Abberline.

“On the contrary, Mrs. Hudson, beyond telling us you left your card, hasn’t said a word about your visit.”

“Mr. Holmes, I’m acquainted with your reported powers of observation, but there is nothing here for you to observe in order to know that I stepped into a puddle on a previous visit here. Therefore, you must have been told about it.”

“Quite to the contrary, Inspector. The fact of your stepping into that pothole on a previous visit is as obvious to one who makes a study of observation as is the toast and Marmite you had for breakfast and are now wearing a bit of on your vest.”

Checking his vest, Abberline descried a small brown speck. Unconvinced Holmes could identify it as Marmite from such a small morsel, he scraped if off with his finger and tasted it.

“Well, done, Mr. Holmes, but in this case there was something to observe…” noted Abberline.

“As there usually is if one knows where to look,” interrupted Holmes. “I was watching the street out of this window when you alighted from the tram only minutes ago. I watched as you deftly averted a pothole that Dr. Watson, who has lived at this address and is well acquainted with the street, has stepped into no fewer than three times this past month. I deduced that since you’d been here before, you must have had reason to remember that particular pothole.”

“Yes, but that…”

“Further,” Holmes continued, “the sole of your right shoe, even though you have apparently applied polish to the upper, shows signs of having been soaked in water. Note how the layers of leather have begun to separate.”

Looking down at his shoe, as he turned his foot to the side, Abberline had to admit it did show signs of water damage. “I’m impressed, Mr. Holmes, your powers of observation and deduction would appear to be well founded.”

“Thank you, Inspector, I pride myself on taking notice of the important details others ignore.”

Quite pleased with the effect his little show had on the inspector, Holmes took his arm.

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