Lestrade took a drink of the tea. “Now, you don’t bother your head about such inconsequentialities. If there was another bloke involved, he certainly made himself scarce this evening and so it would be nigh on impossible to pin anything on him. No, we are very happy to have caught two of the sharpest petermen in London, thanks to your help, Mr Holmes. From now on, however, it is a job for the professionals.”
The young man gave a gracious nod of the head as though in some vague acquiescence to the wisdom of the Scotland Yarder. In reality he thought that, while Lestrade was not quite a fool, he was blinkered to the ramifications of the attempted robbery, and too easily pleased at landing a couple of medium-size fish in his net, while the really big catch swam free. Crime was never quite as cut and dried as Lestrade and his fellow professionals seemed to think. That was why this young man knew that he could never work within the constraints of the organised force as a detective. While at present he was reasonably content to be a help to the police, his ambitions lay elsewhere.
For his own part, Lestrade was unsure what to make of this lean youth with piercing grey eyes and gaunt, hawk-like features that revealed little of what he was thinking. There was something cold and impenetrable about his personality that made the inspector feel uncomfortable. In the last six months, Holmes had brought several cases to the attention of the Yard which he or his fellow officer, Inspector Gregson, had followed up, and a number of arrests had resulted. What Sherlock Holmes achieved from his activities, apart from the satisfaction every good citizen would feel at either preventing or solving a crime, Lestrade could not fathom. Holmes never spoke of personal matters, and the inspector was never tempted to ask.
At the same time as this conversation was taking place in Scotland Yard, in another part of the city the Professor was being informed of the failure of that night’s operation at Meredith and Co. by his number two, Colonel Sebastian Moran.
The Professor rose from his chaise-longue, cast aside the mathematical tome he had been studying and walked to the window. Pulling back the curtains, he gazed out on the river below him, its murky surface reflecting the silver of the moon.
“In itself, the matter is of little consequence,” he said, in a dark, even voice. “Merely a flea-bite on the body of our organisation. But there have been rather too many of these flea-bites of late. They are now beginning to irritate me.” He turned sharply, his eyes flashing with anger. “Where lies the incompetence?”
Moran was initially taken aback by so sudden a change in the Professor’s demeanour. “I am not entirely sure,” he stuttered.
The Professor’s cruelly handsome face darkened with rage. “Well, you should be, Moran. You should be sure. It is your job to know. That is what you are paid for.”
“Well... it seems that someone is tipping the police off in advance.”
The Professor gave a derisory laugh. “Brilliant deduction, Moran. Your public-school education has stood you in good stead. Unfortunately, it does not take a genius to arrive at that rather obvious conclusion. I had a visit from Scoular earlier this evening, thank goodness there is one smart man on whom I can rely.”
At the mention of Scoular’s name, Moran blanched. Scoular was cunning, very sharp and very ambitious. This upstart was gradually worming his way into the Professor’s confidence, assuming the role of court favourite; consequently, Moran felt his own position in jeopardy. He knew there was no demotion in the organisation. If you lost favour, you lost your life also.
“What did he want?”
“He wanted nothing other than to give me information regarding our irritant flea. Apparently, he has been using the persona of Harry Jordan. He’s been working out of some of the East End alehouses, The Black Swan in particular, where he latches on to our more gullible agents, like Johnson and Sims, and then narks to the police.”
“What’s his angle?”
Moriarty shrugged. “I don’t know – or at least Scoular doesn’t know. We need to find out, don’t we? Put Hawkins on to the matter. He’s a bright spark and will know what to do. Apprise him of the situation and see what he can come up with. I’ve no doubt Mr Jordan will return to his lucrative nest at The Black Swan within the next few days. I want information only. This Jordan character must not be harmed. I just want to know all about him before I take any action. Do you think you can organise that without any slip-ups?”
Moran clenched his fists with anger and frustration. He shouldn’t be spoken to in such a manner – like an inefficient corporal with muddy boots. He would dearly have liked to wipe that sarcastic smirk off the Professor’s face, but he knew that such a rash action would be the ultimate folly.
“I’ll get on to it immediately,” he said briskly, and left the room.
The Professor chuckled to himself and turned back to the window. His own reflection stared back at him from the night-darkened pane. He was a tall man, with luxuriant black hair and angular features that would have been very attractive were it not for the cruel mouth and the cold, merciless grey eyes.
“Mr Jordan,” he said, softly addressing his own reflection, “I am very intrigued by you. I hope it will not be too long before I welcome you into my parlour.”
Dawn was just breaking as Sherlock Holmes made his weary way past the British Museum and into Montague Street, where he lodged. He was no longer dressed in the cheap suit that he had used in his persona as Harry Jordan, but while his own clothes were less ostentatious, they were no less shabby. Helping the police as he did was certainly broadening his experience of detective work, but it did not put bread and cheese on the table or pay the rent on his two cramped rooms. He longed for his own private investigation – one of real quality. Since coming to London from university to make his way in the world as a consulting detective, he had managed to attract some clients, but they had been few and far between, and the nature of the cases – an absent husband, the theft of a brooch, a disputed will, and such like – had all been mundane. But, tired as he was, and somewhat dismayed at the short-sightedness of his professional colleagues at Scotland Yard, he did not waver in his belief that one day he would reach his goal and have a solvent and successful detective practice. And it needed to be happening soon. He could not keep borrowing money from his brother, Mycroft, in order to fund his activities.
He entered 14 Montague Street and made his way up the three flights of stairs to his humble quarters. Once inside, with some urgency he threw off his jacket and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt. Crossing to the mantelpiece, he retrieved a small bottle and a hypodermic syringe from a morocco leather case. Breathing heavily with anticipation, he adjusted the delicate needle before thrusting the sharp point home into his sinewy forearm, which was already dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture marks. His long, white, nervous fingers depressed the piston, and he gave a cry of ecstasy as he flopped down in a battered armchair, a broad, vacant smile lighting upon his tired features.
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
THE ECTOPLASMIC MAN
Daniel Stashower
When Harry Houdini is framed and jailed for espionage, Sherlock Holmes vows to clear his name, with the two joining forces to take on blackmailers who have targeted the Prince of Wales.
ISBN: 9781848564923
AVAILABLE NOW!
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
THE SCROLL OF THE DEAD
David Stuart Davies
Holmes attends a seance to unmask an impostor posing as a medium, Sebastian Melmoth, a man hell-bent on obtaining immortality after the discovery of an ancient Egyptian papyrus. It is up to Holmes and Watson to stop him and avert disaster...
ISBN: 9781848564930
AVAILABLE NOW!
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
THE STALWART COMPANIONS
H. Paul Jeffers
Written by future President Theordore Roosevelt long before The Great Detective’s first encounter with Dr. Watson, Holmes visits America to solve a most violen
t and despicable crime. A crime that was to prove his most taxing of his brilliant career...
ISBN: 9781848565098
AVAILABLE NOW!
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
THE VEILED DETECTIVE
David Stuart Davies
A young Sherlock Holmes arrives in London to begin his career as a private detective, catching the eye of the master criminal, Professor James Moriarty. Enter Dr. Watson, newly returned from Afghanistan, soon to make history as Holmes’ companion...
ISBN: 9781848564909
AVAILABLE NOW!
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
THE WAR OF THE WORLDS
Manley W. Wellman & Wade Wellman
Sherlock Holmes, Professor Challenger and Dr. Watson meet their match when the streets of London are left decimated by a prolonged alien attack. Who could be responsible for such destruction? Sherlock Holmes is about to find out...
ISBN: 9781848564916
AVAILABLE NOW!
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
SEANCE FOR A VAMPIRE
Fred Saberhagen
When two psychics offer Ambrose Altamont the opportunity to contact his deceased daughter, Holmes is hired to expose their hoax. The result leaves one of the fraudulent spiritualists dead and Holmes missing. Watson has no choice but to summon the only one who might be able to help – Holmes’ vampire cousin, Prince Dracula.
ISBN: 9781848566774
AVAILABLE NOW!
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
THE SEVENTH BULLET
Daniel D. Victor
Sherlock Holmes’ desire for a peaceful life in the Sussex countryside is dashed when true-life muckraker and author David Graham Phillips is assassinated. The pleas of his sister draws Holmes and Watson to the far side of the Atlantic as they embark on one of their most challenging cases.
ISBN: 9781848566767
AVAILABLE NOW!
The Man From Hell Page 17