Sherlock Holmes: The Shadow From Beyond (7 page)

Naturalist John James Audubon’s ‘Birds of America’ and Fyodor Solntsev’s ‘Antiquities of the Russian State’, both volumes highly valued for the exceptional paintings within, were left with pages open to show off their stunning and intricate panels.

“These books are priceless and would fetch incredible sums if ever put up for auction, in fact the monies raised would total more than many countries have in their entire treasuries.” Wilbey recounted as he passed between the glassed display cases. “It is for this reason they are securely guarded, as a theft would be unforgivable. Another reason we encase some of these texts is that the subject matter contained within is quite questionable, some say even dangerous.” On that note Watson raised an eyebrow of curiosity.

The custodian stopped before a case in a shadowy corner of the room, Holmes and Watson, standing just behind him, noticed that the temperature of the room was somewhat cooler here. In fact the inside glass of the display case was coated with a light frost, slightly obscuring the item within.

“This was the book Professor Harper had been referencing over the last few weeks.” Wilbey produced a key from his own jacket this time and inserted it into the lock. “While employed by the University of London, Harper would invest hours in researching the many archeological collections we offer, but it seems his interest of late was that of occult literature. This single book consumed almost all his time, and he focused all his energies in the study and translation of much of its archaic contents. Of late he seemed pleased with his progress in the matter”

After that statement he unlocked and opened the lid of the case, then stepped back to allow the duo to examine the contents within. A smell like that found in a crypt, intermixed with musk and mold assailed them as soon as the case was unsealed. A small amount of mist also escaped from the case as the warmer air of the room replaced the cooler air within, the frost along the inside glass rapidly faded away.

The book that lay within was certainly of great age, its cover was similar in appearance to cracked leather.

A crimson script of a single word was the only text visible upon the tome’s cover. The Necromomicon! Holmes gasped under his breath, his eyes full of wild surprise, he even stepped back a pace.

“What is it?” Watson dared ask, obviously not familiar with the item, yet in awe of its strangeness.

After a few moments of stunned silence, Holmes replied. “It is an ancient book of the darkest arts Watson. A grimoire of sorts, or a textbook of magic. The encyclopedia of the occult, an omnibus of pure evil and arcane power, if you believe in such nonsense. Many who know of it refer to it simply as ‘The Book’, as similarly referred to by both Harper and Lebda in their writings.

I truly believed there was no such tome in existence and that it was all rumor, but here is one before us.” He continued tentatively. “In my opinion this is a copy of one of the first ever books of horrific fiction, and in my opinion it is fiction and nothing more. Yet far too many seem to believe that its contents are factual and that through the writings within one can channel the primal forces of evil and the beyond.”

Now that the initial shock had dissipated the sarcasm in Holmes voice was well apparent. “I am truly surprised that a copy of it resides here, in our very own Royal British Museum. I feel it out of place alongside of these other great works of literature. Perhaps it would be best placed on a shelf of some child’s library of the fantastic instead.” he mentioned acrimoniously as he glanced in Wilbey’s direction.

“We have the only copy of this book on the entire British isles,” the attendant informed ignoring Holmes’ sarcastic wit. “Other copies exist at the University of Buenos Aires at Lima, Peru; the Bibliotheque National in Paris, France; the Widener Library at Cambridge in Pennsylvania USA, the Miskatonic University in New England, USA, and recently unconfirmed rumors have surfaced that another copy can be found in the private library at the Vatican, in Italy. Our copy, as similar to others, is a Latin translation of the original.

“I personally do not know how this copy came to be in our collection, perhaps as a gift by some benefactor, but it has been here well before I was hired. The custodian that I replaced upon his retirement also mentioned that the book was here well before his time.”

Wilbey quickly donned some silk gloves, stepped between the pair, reached down into the case and gently lifted the book out of its case. He placed it gingerly onto the desk that sat beside the case. Wilbey then proceeded to put two more pairs of gloves on the desk beside the Necronomicon.

“Please wear these gloves before handling the book as it is very old and fragile, the gloves will protect the book, and yourselves.” he added cryptically. He then retired off to the side until of further need, leaving the pair alone with the ancient item.

“It’s disgusting Holmes!” Watson abruptly stated as he pointed to the cover of the tome. “The binding is made of a dried skin of sorts, perhaps some animal hide. Absolutely gruesome!”

“It is dried human skin Watson,” Holmes replied grimly while slowly opening the book’s cover. “As are the pages within, and upon them the text is penned in blood from the same source.” Watson’s jaw dropped and he seemed to shy back a bit as he indeed recognized the truth of Holmes’ statement. “Lunacy!” was all he could say as he shook his head. “As you know Watson, I am no believer in the illogical theories that permeate the world of magic and the occult, but for those who do, this is the ultimate book, and I have heard rumor of its existence. Apparently it is a guidebook to the dark shadows that exist between and beyond our realm.” The detective noted his companion’s fascinated expression before continuing with his morbid description; “The Necronomicon, which translates from Greek as The Book of the Dead, or the Book of the Black Earth, is also known in Arabic as the Kitab al-Azif and is said to have been assembled by the poet Abdul Alhazred in Damascus around the year A.D. 730. Many nicknamed the author the Mad Arab for he often ranted publicly about insane subjects and topics of impossible nature, these he amassed into the Necronomicon. Years later, he vanished into the desert without a trace, and never returned.

“It is said to be a tome of great otherworldly abilities, featuring horrendous writings of mysticism and arcana. It is often referenced to as the anti-bible, a book of pure evil containing the preaching of the perverted and the sinful. The diagrams, ceremonial instructions and mystic recipes scribed within are some of the elements that many fool believers claim can be used to bring forth powerful forces from other dimensions into our own. To summon beings from the infinite darkness to do their bidding and to unleash death and destruction upon their enemies.

“I am far from a religious man Watson, but if there is any truth at all to the mumbo-jumbo claimed within these pages then this book is the key that could unlock it all. Many theologians and scientists state that they possess the means to unleash and manipulate these dark powers, but I highly doubt it, for if these forces exist at all then they are well beyond the control of mankind.

“This volume appears to be a complete Latin translation of the rumored original and therefore truly one of the rarest books on the planet, and for some, a treasure of infinite wealth and power. Although not a believer I must discover why Professor Harper was so focused on referencing this text of late, and if it had a direct connection to his research for Lebda and perhaps his untimely death.”

Holmes pulled up a chair before the desk, sat down, pulled the gloves over his long thin fingers and began to leaf through the ancient blood scrawled pages of that eldritch tome, searching for any clues that might aid his investigation. Watson decided instead to peruse the other literary works on the shelves nearby, as an unexplainable discomfort overwhelmed him while in proximity to that cursed archaic tome.

Over the next few hours Watson glanced frequently over his shoulder toward his companion who diligently scribbled down notes in a pocketbook of his own. He noticed that Holmes was busy comparing information between the journal taken from Professor Harper’s study and the dreaded Necronomicon. He wondered at how his friend, considering his disdain for anything of the obscure, knew so much about that dread book, but by now Watson was well beyond being surprised by Holmes and his seemingly endless knowledge of almost any topic.

Soon after, Watson, arms folded over his chest, snored lightly as he napped in one of the library’s plush leather chairs. Holmes meanwhile, explored unearthly elements well beyond his realm of understanding.

Objects of Arcana

It was early afternoon and both companions were travelling in a cab en route back to that very room in Hampstead where Professor Harper was mysteriously killed.

Sherlock Holmes had explained to Doctor Watson that they must journey immediately to the address provided by Count Lebda in Metz, France in order to get to the bottom of the recent murders, and possibly stop events that may threaten the lives of many more people.

“What are you saying Holmes? That we must leave London and travel to France now? What are these horrific implications you suggest?!”

“When we have more time Watson I will fill you in on the theory I am working on, until then time is of the essence so we must hurry. We must also follow the path provided us and for now it points to this Lebda character. The trail on this side of the Channel is growing cold; therefore we will pick it up in France before it fades completely. But before we gather our travel bags at Baker Street we must first stop at Professor Harper’s residence to collect some items for our journey and so we head in that direction now.

“I had noticed certain strange objects the last time we were in his study, and although originally unfamiliar with them, Harper’s journal and the Necronomicon have since further expanded on their possible uses. Although I doubt it myself, the function of these objects may be very important, therefore they will accompany us on our journey to France just in case. Better to err on the side of caution I say.”

The constable left guarding the crime scene at Harper’s mansion allowed them access and mentioned as they entered; “Take anything you need Mr. Holmes.That was Inspector Lestrade’s orders. Whatever items may help you solve the case are at your disposal.” Locating these specific items took at least a half an hour of rooting about the professor’s study, and even then not all the items on Holmes’ mental check list could be found. The few articles pilfered included; a folio of rough notes in Harper’s hand, assorted arcane diagrams and sketches, sticks of charcoal wrapped in velvet cloth (the harder of the objects to find), and two fist sized star shaped stones of grayish hue. Holmes also selected a couple of books from Harper’s library of the outré, which he gently placed within his now bulging coat pockets

As the exited the mansion Holmes asked the constable to relay a message to Inspector Lestrade that he and Doctor Watson will be heading across the English Channel to continue their investigation on the European continent, and will send telegram reports back when possible. If all went well they should return within a fortnight.

At their Baker Street residence Holmes filled his travel bag with clothes, toiletries, personal items and the objects lifted from Harper’s study. “Gather some belongings for the road Watson and bring your pistol along as well. Pack lightly in clothes, but heavy on ammunition. Also do me a favor old fellow and consult your trusty Bradshaw transport guide for the exact times of the boat train and ferry departures across the Channel, we would not want to miss any connections that may delay our passage.”

“Already ahead of you on that.” Watson replied. “My guide says there are no boat trains left for the evening Holmes, but if we hurry we may be able to catch the last regular ferry departure of the night, but we are greatly pressed for time, it will be almost impossible.”

After quickly packing their bags, grabbing coats, canes and Watson’s trusty Webley Mark III revolver they bid Mrs. Hudson adieu once again. “We will be back within a week or two my dear, in the meantime please collect all our post while we are gone.” Holmes said in hurried fashion, he then clambered into the cab that waited to drive them to the train station. Watson followed close behind, but stopped for a moment to grab the bagged lunches that Mrs. Hudson had thoughtfully prepared for them.

“Thank you my dear. What would we possibly do without you?”

“Starve, I’m sure.” she replied with a wide smile.

Missed Connections

Soon both were speeding along toward the harbor in hopes of securing passage on the last ferry leaving across the English Channel. The plan was to travel from Dover, England to Calais, France via ferry, then to take a train journey down the Eastern border of France to the city of Metz along the river Moselle, just south of Luxumbourg.

It was just past 8 p.m. in the evening when they finally reached Priory station, and when the hansom cab from there finally arrived at Dover harbor proper the rays of sun had vanished well beyond the Western horizon. “Too late!” exclaimed Holmes as he watched the last departing ferry of the evening recede into the misty distance.

Watson flipped some pages in his Bradshaw guide. “We have missed the last passage for the night Holmes! And none depart again until 7 a.m. tomorrow morning.”