The Sherlock Holmes Stories of Edward D. Hoch by Edward D. Hoch

Author:Edward D. Hoch [Hoch, Edward D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781480456501
Publisher: MysteriousPress.com/Open Road
Published: 2013-11-25T18:30:00+00:00

THE ADVENTURE OF

THE CIPHER IN THE SAND

IT WAS A FINE autumn morning in late September of 1899 when Sherlock Holmes and I received an unexpected visitor at our Baker Street lodgings. Accustomed as Holmes was to welcoming paying clients, it was rare indeed for Inspector Lestrade to visit us.

“Is this official business?” Holmes asked, pausing in the act of filling his pipe to study the lean, ferret-like countenance of the Scotland Yard inspector.

“It is indeed, Mr. Holmes.”

“I suspect it has to do with a body discovered along the shore of the Thames River, near Wapping, within the last three hours?”

Lestrade seemed taken aback by his words. “My God, Holmes! Has one of your Baker Street urchins brought you news of it already?”

“I hardly need that,” he replied, with the superior gaze I’d seen so many times. “You know my methods, Watson. Explain to the inspector how I knew the location of the killing.”

I studied him up and down for a moment. “Well, I can see moist sand dried to the knees of his trousers,” I suggested with some uncertainty.

Holmes finished lighting his pipe. “Of course! Moist sand in the city on a sunny September morning most like comes from the banks of the Thames at low tide. That particular grade of sand is mainly found near Wapping. A man of your rank, Inspector, would only have been called out for the most serious of crimes. The fact that you knelt in the moist stand tells me you were examining a body.”

“You never fail to amaze me, Holmes,” the inspector said, brushing the sand from his knees. “The body of a man was indeed found near Wapping this morning. Some sort of message was left in the sand near his body. It appears to be a cipher, and I heard of your success last year with the problem of the dancing men. I hope you can come with me to view this message before it is washed away by the rising tide.”

Holmes glanced in my direction. “What say you, Watson? Is your calendar clear for the next few hours?”

“Certainly, Holmes.”

The area of Wapping, near the Liverpool docks, was made up mainly of four-story buildings with shops on the ground floors and lodgings above. Facing west, one could see the Tower of London looming in the distance. Holmes and I followed Lestrade down to the stretch of damp sand by the water’s edge, where a pair of bobbies stood guard. I could see that the tide had already turned.

“The body has been removed,” Lestrade told us. “It was sighted just after dawn by the Metropolitan Special Constabulary—the river police—and officers were dispatched to the scene.”

“What was the cause of death?” Holmes asked.

“Stabbed once in the back. The knife was still in the wound. The victim was dressed like a seaman, with black hair and a short beard. Perhaps he was off one of the merchant ships at the Liverpool docks. He had no money or identification in his pockets, suggesting robbery as the motive.

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