The Call of Distant Shores by Wilson David Niall & Eggleton Bob

Author:Wilson, David Niall & Eggleton, Bob [Eggleton, Bob]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Horror
Publisher: Crossroad Press & Macabre Ink Digital
Published: 2011-06-07T04:00:00+00:00

It was nearly three o'clock by the time Holmes made his way to the door of my flat. He stood outside the door, and when I invited him in, he shook his head impatiently.

"Your coat, Watson, and hurry. Timing is crucial, and we have several places to be before evening."

I didn't hesitate. Long years as Holmes' companion have removed several layers of my natural hesitation. There were only two choices, follow as best I could, or be left behind and miss whatever was to come. My coat over one arm, my hat in the other hand, I slipped out the door, and Holmes pulled it tight behind me.

Just as I was turning to go, I saw him bend at the waist, reaching down to run a finger along one of the cracks in the sidewalk. Straightening, he removed a bit of paper from his pocket and carefully folded whatever he'd scraped from the ground inside. I thought to ask what he was doing, then thought better of it. All it's time, he'd say. Why force the words?

There was a carriage waiting at the curb, and Holmes slipped inside. I followed, and without a word from Holmes, the driver was off. I should have liked to have asked where we were bound, but experience told me the words would be wasted. Holmes had the predatory, hunter's gleam in his eye I'd seen so many times before, and I knew he'd speak to me only when he was ready. I contented myself with slipping into my coat and leaning back to watch the streets as we passed.

The carriage headed into the center of the city, and it was only a short time before we pulled to the curb. A quick glance out the window confirmed my suspicions. We had pulled up in front of the morgue.

"Why have we come here?" I asked in surprise. "I've told you the man was in my flat, alive and standing as you, or I."

"If, indeed, the man you saw was the same Michael Adcott you pronounced dead," Holmes replied, exiting the coach and motioning the driver to wait, "then I would expect without a doubt to find that body here. The fact you met a man you believe might be Adcott does not mean the Adcott for whom you signed the death warrant is not dead."

He fell silent then, leaving me to follow the trail of his thoughts to their obvious conclusions. A brother? A close cousin? Why hadn't it occurred to me? My ears were burning with the sudden realization I'd acted the fool, but I followed Holmes into the morgue entrance nevertheless. What had I been thinking? That dead men walk?

It was late in the day, and it was unlikely that many would be walking the halls of that dark place, but Holmes entered with familiarity and confidence. There was nothing to do but to follow.

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