The rise of Sherlock Holmes by DAN MONTY

Author:DAN MONTY [Monty, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-22T22:00:00+00:00

PART TWO

“CASE OF THE WOLF"

CHAPTER NINE: THE FULL MOON

Exactly three weeks and four days had passed since Holmes and I had assisted with the murder case which had begun on Brixton Road, and for three weeks there had been no calls or requests for myself or Sherlock Holmes. The pair of us had taken some time off, which was wonderful for me but seemed rather painful for Holmes, who had resorted mostly to idle napping and wallowing in self pity.

Honestly, the truth is you don’t truly know a man until you have come to live with him for a while. In most cases, you will catch glimpses of his various habits and idiosyncrasies, but only with time does his true nature begin to reveal itself. Holmes has done many strange things over the past few weeks, not including giving a granted nearly dead, but still living dog a toxic drug that could quite reasonably have sent it to an early grave.

Since that day, he had played ridiculous pieces on his violin at early hours of the morning and constructed a small village entirely out of cheese. He informed me that he was trying to create a crime scene from the past and recall the scene exactly to the last detail. I might have seen this rather odd reconstruction as clever, perhaps even entertaining if it weren’t for the fact that when I came upon it, the cheese had gone off and the smell was most foul.

I awoke this morning to a smoky sitting room, which I had come to expect from Holmes, but the man was lying on the floor with a pipe sticking from his unshaven mouth. He was surrounded by empty pizza boxes and honestly he looked like he had not showered in days.

“Holmes?” I asked, wondering if he was in fact dead.

“Holmes!” I said, tapping him with my foot. His eyes fluttered open and he coughed, looking up at me.

“Watson? Am I dead?” He asked and I looked him up and down.

“Not quite. Are you alright?” I asked and he sat upright looking quite depressed, his hair dishevelled as he glanced about in his pyjamas and dressing gown.

“Apparently. Though I do feel rather cold" Holmes said and I knelt beside him.

“Well, you are lying on the floor. Did you eat all this pizza?” I asked and he nodded.

“I wanted to understand precisely how many slices I could eat until my body gave up and I passed out cold. Sixteen Watson! Sixteen. I am rather surprised I didn’t eat myself to death, through that might have still been a worthy experiment,” he said and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Holmes, you need to shower. And shave! You look like you are going quite mad!” I said.

“My mind repels stagnation, Watson. I need problems! I need work! My mind is an empty husk, no clutter to keep me amused. If there’s nothing to stimulate my mind, you must simply allow me to wither and die,” Holmes replied.

“Rubbish!

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