A few minutes later, I was just sitting in one place, staring at one point. Not a single decent idea was in my head. Really, after all, the key is hidden not in the room? This would be a disaster, because searching the house I would have had a week, and not the fact that I managed to find it.
Oh, think! Think, my head! Where could hide the key a little boy? So, wait a second. This is not an ordinary boy, any average child. This boy must be very similar to me, because initially, until the moment when everything went topsy-turvy, Proteus created this reality, based on my perception of the world. That is, I have to think about where I myself put the key in the room!
Here is just simple! If you recall one of the famous stories by Edgar Allan Poe of C. Auguste Dupin, namely "The Purloined Letter", it can be concluded - that it would be good to hide something, it is better not to hide it at all. If you follow this rule, then the desired key should be somewhere right before your eyes, for example ... For example, simply hang around in the lock of one of the desk drawers! And did not I think of that?
Grabbing the key, I ran headlong into the pantry. By the time I started up the narrow and steep stairs, my heart beating wildly with excitement. I have a presentiment, what secrets I will open today. I do not know why I do it like this in my head, but I imagine this loft something of Ali Baba's cave.
- Well, the Open Sesame! - I put the key in the hole and began to turn. He freely turned half a turn, and then stood up. I could not grasp the fact that he simply does not fit in the first few seconds, and for some time, exerting force, trying all the same to open the lock.
Hmm. It was not as easy as I had hoped. In my room I got is not such a gallop, crushed by his failure. As soon as once again to think things through.
Back in the bedroom, I stopped by the table. My attention was again attracted a stunning layout of the yacht, which it was. "Duncan" - so that I can not remember how I know this name! Another minute posverliv view layout, I was suddenly in one fell swoop get rid of nowhere who took the eclipse. Yes, of course! Thirty-seventh parallel, steam yacht "Duncan" ... It's "Children of Captain Grant"! How could I forget?
Already a new look at the model, I suddenly noticed a detail that had not attracted my attention. Bronze nameplate yachts located on polished bulk basis, was coated with a thin layer of a greenish patina - everywhere, except for the upper right corner, where the perimeter, it was as if erased. This is hardly conspicuous, only slightly lighter face, as if this edge plate constantly rubbing on the ground.
Afraid to believe that this time really guessed - I have two thumbs firmly press the bronze rectangle. Posoprotivlyatsya second, he left with a quiet click of a couple of centimeters deep, and at the same time the whole piece of wood, which turned removable out of the grooves and remained in my hands. The system has not stood aside, gave me, a well-deserved perception of unity.
In the depths of a small secret drawer lay something strange wrapped blue cloth. Unfolding as it turned out, a blue silk scarf, I saw quite a thick book without a title. From the folds of the scarf, softly clinking, a small key dropped on the table.
Sherlock Ah yes, ah yes ... well done! And I even knocked a couple of times on the base model, suggesting that there may be a cavity. However, the sound was muffled, as if it were solid. But it turned out the whole thing in the tissue, which, being tightly wrapped around the book in several layers, fill all the remaining space of the small cache. Slyly. So, and what kind of book, if it must be so carefully hidden?
I opened it at random about the middle, get a grasp of diligent, correct handwriting Student:
"...April 18th.
Soon I will finish a new portrait of her mother. I hope he will like Uncle Jeremy and he let me hang it up in the bedroom. Nasty Miss Volfish again scolded me because I was sitting in the kitchen and read Tonto Josy her favorite novel about the adventures of Lancelot glorious. I do not understand how you can be so angry, because she knows that Tonto Zhosi very slow and difficult to read. She even says is wrong and ridiculous. I sometimes do not hold back and laugh, and then I am very ashamed. But she did not take offense. She loves me very much, and I did.
April 21.
Uncle Jeremy spoke again about the mechanics. What do I necessarily need to study it in order to advance science and progress forward. Why are adults so stupid? I'm a hundred times told him that I dream of becoming a great artist. If he wants to, let alone her studies! Mr. Derrick today praised me for the work in the classroom and said that I was very intelligent and diligent student. But he still did not see how I draw!
April 28.
Today is exactly a year since died Aunt Anna. Uncle Jeremy's a sad day, and I heard him crying. Nasty Miss Volfish pours him a whiskey, and then Uncle long asleep on the couch in his office. She says that he should forget everything and start a new life. And it will help him and will always be there. Is Uncle does not see that Miss Volfish does not love him? I hate her! I hate you! I want her to die ... ".
I closed the book. Wow, blog Sherlock. This is what comes out, my uncle wanted to force the boy to learn the mechanics of how something known only to him the reasons and study it in the end, I am. It seems that this is not just so, and is part of a plan, or why it was put in the skill requirements of the mechanics of the clock?
Well, his time will come. Now I think there is no sense in such a conspiracy, because leave the diary on the table. And now - the most important thing.
Quietly, slowly, as if afraid to frighten off anyone, I again went to the side of the pantry. Trying to even think about something abstract, climbed the stairs and re-inserted the key into the lock. Froze for a moment, then took a decisive turn. Yes! The lock clicked and opened.
Applying a decent effort, I pulled back the cover. I wonder how a decade of Sherlock cope with this?
In the attic it was rather dark, so, after a fairly bright light closet, it took me about a minute to eyes accustomed to a little, and I could at least something to distinguish. Stretching his arms, I took two cautious steps forward. White human face with the dead, rolled his eyes suddenly floated to me from the darkness. It hovered at the level of my head, as if the light in the darkness. Surprise and horror at me for a moment, breath, but after a second I, deafened by screaming, recoiled, fell on his back, just not pleased at the same time in the open hatch.
Chapter 9.
Realizing that I was in a vulnerable position, I grouped instantly rolled to the side, waiting for the attack. In fact I did not even have time to realize their horror and screamed more out of surprise.
Another thing I realized after a few seconds, that attack me no one was going. So scared me face was just part of the strange shapes hovering in the air. Well, at least that's how it looked in the dark. Strumming again returned for a moment fear, I reached out and touched. Hmmm ... I do not really understand. Painted wood? In general, some sculpture. So, in order to avoid such incidents - I need a light, and it is urgent! Even I wonder how Sherlock managed to draw here, in hateful temnotische?
- Mr. Brown, sir, you all right? - I came down the stairs excited voice Marjorie.
- Sherlock, what happened? - Well, of course, as without Donnie?
- It's okay, I just tripped and fell in the darkness. She cried out in surprise.
- I cried? You're screaming like a banshee! We thought that you cut it.
- Donnie, do not exaggerate, I just tripped!
- Mr. Brown, would you take the lamp, and then one never knows, once again fall ...
Take the lamp? But I'm not against it, but where it is here, this lamp? Neither trait is not visible!
- Hold, sir, - the maid climbed a few steps and handed me a lighted kerosene. - And you can open the shutters, so it will be much lighter.
- Thank you, Marjorie. Thank you so much. Donnie - I said to the other - do not want to accompany me to explore the attic? There seems to be a lot of interesting discoveries.
- What? Yes, after you cry I almost turned gray! No, I prefer to conduct research in the c
omfort, especially since I have not finished with your papers.
- Well, I will not insist.
Making sure that my unfulfilled rescuers went about their business, I, increasing the height of the flame in the lamp, I began to look around.
The first thing I did was, of course, interested in so scared I figure. On closer inspection it turned out to be very interesting. Never in my life I could not imagine that the bow shape of a sailing ship can be found in the attic of the house, in the city center. However, this was the case.
Face, dimly illuminated from below, really was like some kind of creepy death mask. Now, highlighting his warm light of a kerosene lamp, I saw a pretty woman's face, framed by tousled curls. Entirely the same figure was a winged girl in a long, flowing tunic, something between a Nike of Samothrace, only with his hands and head, and soaring angel. Although, given the time that the sculpture was suspended from the ceiling so that the head was slightly below the feet, rather, it was an angel dive.
Very strange discovery. I'll never know why she was here, and why hanging almost in the center of the room.
By the way, the shutters of which mention Marjorie really showed up. They were shifted panels around the room, near one of which stood an easel with an unfinished painting and a small table with brushes and paints. Pushing one of the panels, I let the dull gray light fading day, what, however, immediately regretted. Slightly mysterious and otherworldly atmosphere that prevailed there, instantly evaporated, and the room has turned into an ordinary dusty attic, full, once the necessary and expensive to someone, and now the usual useless junk.
Picture standing on an easel, was apparently only begun, as was a vague colored spots, and that it should be shown now understand there was no way.
In the very back of the room it was equipped with a cozy corner, which was a large armchair, a round table on a tripod, a massive bronze chandelier for a dozen candles, wooden chest Bound bronze strips, and, suddenly, a huge wheel. I must say that it is darkened by time and hundreds of thousands of polished touches the steering wheel meter diameter, immediately suggests a thousand devils, Jolly Roger and piastres, and then looked at the dark attic, a very, very natural.
Krutanuv wheel is cranked easily and without the slightest creak, I turned to the chest. Fortunately, he was not locked up, even though I have put up with another searching for the right key. Lifting the heavy lid, I was surprised to find that the chest is almost empty. He was so big that I could fit entirely in it, even though the already well grown. However, at the bottom alone were only three things - a rather plump album for watercolors, bundles of letters, and a silver chain with a strange medallion in the shape of a dagger in a sheath.
Somehow, that locket interested me the most. In the first place, a miniature dagger was the country of his form - wide and short, he looked like a shark's tooth. Silver the sheath were decorated thin ligature engraving, which developed a fancy pattern from curls and wavy lines. In the widest part thereof has been depicted with wide human eye rather than the pupil which was inserted chrysoberyl, better known as "cat's eye".
Twisting decoration in hand, and making sure that, as it should, "eye" at any angle looks just on me, I tried to remove the sheath. To my surprise, they are, though quite tight, but still removed, revealing a yellowish, Bone triangular blade about three-centimeter length.
I do not know why, but I suddenly thought that this medallion is one thing for which I am so eager for the attic. Once again, I looked at him again, this time more carefully, trying to bring a sign describing the subject. However, as I expected, I received only insufficient information on the level of perception skill. But what's all so easy! Here surely is some key subject, designed to help me in the search for, and I can not use it. And how do you want to download the perception monitored? Yes, I did just before the end of the year and will swing ...
Okay, now let's leave. Let's see what else there is interesting. Decisively wearing a chain around his neck and hiding the dagger under his shirt, I picked up the album. Fluent scrolling through it, I realized that this is exactly what I immediately thought - figures Sherlock, this one pencil. But at the boy's talent ...
On one of the drawings I stopped, unable to tear his eyes - so much strength, sincerity and dull melancholy was in it. Swan with clipped wings, desperately trying to fly up into the sky, followed by teammates, hurrying south. Nearby is his house, rebyatnya from the shore throwing pieces of bread, but he looks skyward in a desperate fit of straightening crippled wings. And many of these feelings was in this figure, so much pain and desire for freedom, how could not possibly be an ordinary teen, even if it is deeply unfortunate because of the loss of parents.
It seems that not only the medallion was important. Drawing, I think it's some kind of message. Message from the one who stands behind it all. Faltered for a moment, I decisively pulled the sheet from the album, put that back into the trunk. I can not explain his act, but I wanted to figure I had, and I could sometimes look at him.
I was writing. There were about twenty pieces, and they were written, apparently, a long time ago, yellowed envelopes, ink slightly faded. She looked at the date on the stamp, I was convinced that he was right - the last letter was received five years ago. I do not know, maybe I'm wrong, but reading these letters I did not want. Giving himself the word that I will do it later, I removed them back into the trunk.
Well, that's all that was there. It is strange that Sherlock would not let anyone into the attic, I, frankly, expected to be found there is something sinister, well, or at least very interesting and mysterious. And I found a refuge of a little boy who had been hiding from the world and very homesick for her parents. Nothing new. Closing the trunk, I strongly headed for the hatch. Cases were still at his throat, wasting time was not permissible.
Downstairs, I locked the door and walked into the living room. Marjorie again washed the dust from the mantelpiece, which, as it seemed to me, and so shone with cleanliness. When she saw me, she immediately stopped its activity:
- You want something, sir?
- Yes, I want you something to show - I handed the woman figure. - I found it in the attic. Tell me, have you seen this picture before? I painted it?
- Um ... - she turned the picture in confusion in his hands. - Sir, if you have found this picture at the top, then most likely it is yours, as no one else in the house can not draw. But if I did not know that I would have said that he was drawn to adults and very unhappy person. - A woman suddenly lowered her voice. - And if I were asked, sir, I would say that this person is locked up somewhere and is suffering from it. You see, it's the dream of freedom?
- Yes, Marjorie, that's why I asked you if I could draw it. I, unfortunately, remember that I can not.
- Excuse me, sir. I fear that the more I can not do anything to help you ...
- Thank you, Marjorie.
Even more firmly established in the thought that the picture is not that other, as a message to me, I thought about how to proceed. The time is approaching in the evening, so go somewhere sense was not - the library has most likely closed or about to close, the police archive, too, for sure, is not working around the clock.
Read blog or Sherlock "Mystic expedition"? I do not know what to choose. Both the first and the second is interesting, and in a book and in the second I was hoping to find clues.
- Mr. Brown, sir - again called out to me a woman - is time for dinner. Madame Petit prepared chicken stew with potatoes and watercress do not want?
What a good idea! After thinking about dinner, I immediately felt the pit of the stomach significantly sucked. I do not know what the watercress, but I'm sure it will be very tasty:
- Yes, Marjorie, you're right, I do not mind dinner.
- Yes sir. I served in the dining room, just ask Mr. Watson if he will join you for dinner.
Thought that Donny, who, it must be confessed, loved to eat, may refuse to dinner, made me smile. Yes most sky will fall to the ground!
- Do not
worry, he will definitely join. I'll call him.
Leaving a woman to plead in the dining room, I went looking for Donald. I must say, very tense I did not have, I found a friend where suspected - in her uncle's office, which is part-and a library. As I thought - this assemblage of books lured Donnie, like a magnet.
- Donald, you're a long time? - each raised discontented face from the papers. - Dinner's ready, we are called.
- Fifteen minutes left, do not bother! - Donnie made a strange gesture, as though to drive away annoying insects.
- Well, well, I'm going. If, for dinner we stewed chicken and some watercress! - because of the closed door came the muffled lowing. I smiled - now we'll see who is stronger than you, the researcher or amateur to eat!
The researcher is still proved to be stronger. Later, when I was sitting in the dining room for dinner table, Donny appeared triumphantly, carrying a stack of papers in front of him like a banner.
- Sherlock! Thank you for the opportunity to read the manuscript!
- You really like it? - It seems I have underestimated love Donald reading.
- Yes, it's just amazing! Very, very interesting.
- Wait, are you really in that time managed to read everything?
- Are you kidding? Of course, in time, - Donny laughed. - Yes, there is, in fact, not so much has been written. Look, I wrote the most important. Not even so, I just cut the story and rewrote it in normal language. Here, - he handed me three handwritten pages.
- Thank you, Donnie, you helped me a lot - unable to keep the curiosity, I pushed a plate of stewed chicken, and began to read.
Without thinking that the securities meet something really important, I first ran them diagonally, however, reaching the middle and began to carefully re-read from the beginning. Read to the end, I was deep in thought. waiting for my reaction Donny fell silent, watching.
Named Sherlock Page 41