Read The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes Online

Authors: Paul Gilbert

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Detective and Mystery Stories; English, #Mystery & Detective, #Watson; John H. (Fictitious Character), #Holmes; Sherlock (Fictitious Character), #Traditional British

The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes (10 page)

BOOK: The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes
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‘Mr Holmes I implore you to take up my friend’s case, despite its unpromising appearance. Do not let the circumstances cloud your instincts, as they have clouded those of others.’ Clarke now glanced briefly in Lestrade’s direction. ‘Despite all that he had endured in the face of Sonia’s vile, avaricious temperament, Alfred was still very much in love with his wife and his pure nature would preclude his carrying out so heinous a crime as he has been accused of.’

Carlton Clarke now sank back into his chair with the relief of one who has been exhausted by his efforts.

‘Have no fear, Mr Clarke,’ Holmes declared, though glowering towards his old adversary from the Yard. ‘As Watson here will attest, your friend’s predicament will not be the
first, nor, I am certain, the last forlorn cause that we have taken up.’

Waving aside all Clarke’s efforts to express his gratitude, Holmes next announced: ‘Now, Watson, I would set you to the task of securing the services of two hansom-cabs.’

‘Two?’ I queried.

‘One for my visit to the circus and the other for you to obtain the services of Toby.’

‘Ah, I think I understand,’ I answered, ignoring the questioning glances of the other two.

I should mention here that Toby is an old canine ally of ours. A bloodhound of unremarkable appearance and yet unerring instincts and abilities who had come to our assistance on more than one occasion, most notably during the successful culmination of ‘The Sign of Four’ affair.

So it was but a few moments later whilst Holmes and the others were hurrying towards the scene of the crime, that I found myself on the way to Lambeth. Number three, Pinchin Lane, to be precise, and the residence of the smallest and strangest zoo that I have ever heard of. On this occasion I had no great difficulty in finding the place and still less in identifying Toby, for he came bounding towards me without a moment’s hesitation. Sherman, the owner of the beast, handed him over, content in the knowledge that Sherlock Holmes was to put Toby to good service once again.

After his affectionate greetings had bestowed a good dowsing upon my face, Toby bounded contentedly alongside me, towards the waiting cab, happy to escape his confinements, albeit for a short time. By the time we had reached the ‘Big Top’ of Clarke’s Circus, Holmes’s researches were evidently already well under way. He was dusting off his
trousers in a disgruntled manner and Lestrade was standing nearby, wearing an air of triumphant smugness.

When I entered the Walker’s changing room, alongside my canine companion, Lestrade could not contain his derisory laughter.

‘Oh, Mr Holmes! I simply cannot imagine what assistance you expect to obtain from this poor bedraggled creature!’ Poor Carlton Clarke, who was standing within earshot, looked forlorn and crestfallen.

Undaunted, Holmes replied: ‘We shall see, we shall see, but Toby has yet to fail me.’ Holmes greeted the dog with a vigorous rubbing of its head. ‘Now, Mr Clarke, is there anything that you see in the room, which you would immediately associate with the missing Labrador?’ he continued cheerily.

While Clarke conducted his own search Holmes identified to me the various points of interest that he had observed within the room. There was none that I could associate with the innocence of the now incarcerated knife-thrower, although I was fascinated by the patterns drawn by the knife marks that decorated a large wooden board. The unerring accuracy of each of Walker’s throws was awesome to behold and the precise outline of a female body was there for all to see.

‘Surely those marks alone confirm the guilt of Alfred Walker. Someone capable of such consistent accuracy would hardly miss the mark so dramatically,’ Lestrade sneered, having observed our interest in the marks.

‘Neither would he be the fool that you make him out to be,’ Holmes responded. ‘It is inconceivable that a man of his reputation would bring about his wife’s demise in such a clumsy and obvious manner. No, Lestrade, there must be
another explanation. There has to be. Now, Mr Clarke, did the Walkers go through the same routine every time they rehearsed?’

‘Oh, absolutely. Each rehearsal was a private performance of the act.’

‘Were the knives thrown in the same order every time?’

‘Every time,’ Clarke confirmed. ‘The first knife thrown was always the one above the head.’

‘Note that, Watson, the fatal knife was the first and only one thrown that night!’

‘What are you driving at, Mr Holmes?’ Lestrade enquired anxiously.

‘Were the blindfolds always employed in rehearsals?’ Holmes next asked, ignoring Lestrade’s question.

‘With all due respect, Mr Holmes, there would be no point otherwise,’ Clarke replied, clearly as confused at Holmes’s line of questioning as the rest of us.

‘Therefore, if Sonia Walker had altered her stance or positioning that evening Alfred could not possibly have been aware of it,’ Holmes murmured to himself.

‘But Holmes, Sonia would hardly have deliberately jeopardized her own life by doing so,’ I suggested.

‘Quite so. Unless she was not …’ Holmes’s words trailed off with his thoughts, which for the time being remained his own. Yet, strangely, I now felt renewed confidence in his ability to clear Alfred Walker.

‘So, Mr Clarke, there is nothing in the room that might aid Toby in his search?’ Holmes asked, having recovered his composure.

‘Sadly not.’ The circus owner shook his head slowly and the smirk on Lestrade’s face broadened visibly.

Holmes snatched Toby’s leash from my grasp.
‘Gentlemen, I suggest we meet again at Baker Street this evening. Come, Watson, the instincts of our canine friend here may yet prove to be more reliable than those of certain humans that I might care to mention!’

Once we were out of earshot of the others and with Toby not pursuing any obvious trail, I quietly broached a subject that I had feared might prove to be a delicate one.

‘Holmes, in the absence of a scent for him to pursue, surely Toby’s presence here is now redundant.’

Surprisingly, under the circumstances, an enigmatic smile slowly lit up Holmes’s face. ‘On the contrary, it is more valuable than before. See here.’ Slowly Holmes extracted a sliver of what appeared to be red leather from his waistcoat pocket. ‘You see, Watson, they searched yet they did not observe. If I am not mistaken I hold here the only remnant that Goldie left behind of Sonia Walker’s red shoes.’ He held this directly beneath Toby’s dripping nose and at once the beast began to stir.

He took a few sniffs with no obvious purpose or urgency at first, but slowly the momentum increased and in a short while Holmes and I were being led from tent to tent and caravan to caravan throughout the circus encampment. Once or twice we startled various artistes as they prepared for their acts, their astonished screams and shrills adding to the mayhem of our urgent progress. However there was still no sign of our golden quarry.

In the end, and to our consternation, Toby led us beyond the confines of the circus and on to a stretch of wasteland just beyond.

‘Do not be concerned, Watson, this, I am certain is where Walker exercised his dog. Toby will lead us to our goal in no time,’ Holmes encouraged me breathlessly.

For a few agonizing minutes it appeared that, for once, Holmes was sadly mistaken. Toby’s movements became hesitant and all seemed to be lost as he stopped dead in his tracks and lay down. Undeterred, Holmes waved the strip of leather under Toby’s nose once more and in an instant he was up on his feet again, frantically sniffing the ground around him.

‘Quickly, Watson! He would seem to be leading us towards that hollow over there.’

The ground that we had been traversing so far, had been flat and almost bare of vegetation, apart from the occasional berry bush and the odd stunted tree. Just in front of us, however, a lushly wooded dell was suddenly revealed to us. With some difficulty we scrambled down its steep stony slope and when we collapsed on to the floor at its base Toby broke away from Holmes’s grasp of his leash and disappeared into the tangle of the undergrowth.

The determination of Toby’s sudden surge forward seemed to indicate that he was now certain of his quarry. We floundered in his wake, but were unable to match his speed and lost sight of him altogether. We feared that he had disappeared for good and that he had gone off on a wild-goose chase when, all of a sudden his distinctive bark echoed through the trees from just a few yards ahead of us.

Toby was clearly pleased with himself, for he came bounding over to us with his tail flailing about wildly. He led us towards a large hollow that had formed, over the years, at the base of an immense oak. While I regained Toby’s leash Holmes dropped to the ground and crawled towards this depression on his stomach. He was greeted by a terrible snarling and a hostile display of teeth that were most uncharacteristic of a Labrador.

Holmes employed the same soothing tones that had so often quelled the fears of some of our more distraught female clients and in a moment or two he had successfully coaxed the dog from his lair. He then called for me to join him on the ground. Having secured both dogs to a tree I did his bidding.

‘See here Watson. Was there ever a more convincing display of a dog’s devotion to his master than this?’

I stared into the darkness, to where Holmes indicated, yet all that I could see was a strange collection of mangled pieces of red leather within the darkest recesses of the tree-trunk.

‘I don’t understand,’ I protested. ‘There is nothing here that would indicate devotion.’

‘Very likely not, yet this display, described by Carlton Clarke as the dog’s “peculiar penchant” is nothing of the sort! He is destroying the most prized possessions that once belonged to the object of his hate and the cause of his abject misery. However, there is much more of relevance to be learnt here than merely the understanding of the wretchedness of a dog.’

Before I could question him as to the exact significance of this latest discovery he sprang to his feet and made a small sack out of his jacket by tying its sleeves together in a tight knot. Into this bundle he now threw the remnants of leather that he had gathered from the base of the oak. He next improvised a leash from his necktie with which he successfully secured the Labrador.

‘Watson, please return our trusty ally to Pinchin Lane. I shall make one last enquiry before rejoining you and our client at Baker Street.’ Without another word Holmes turned and began making his way up the side of the dell with the reluctant Goldie in tow.

Toby proved to be more reluctant to return to his cage in Sherman’s menagerie than he had been to escape it. None the less, I was still able to return to our rooms before either Lestrade or Carlton Clarke and, most surprisingly it appeared, Sherlock Holmes. That mystery was solved a moment later, though, when his voice rang out from behind his bedroom door.

‘A thousand apologies, Watson, yet, as you have observed, I had need to replace almost half of my wardrobe!’ He laughed.

A moment later he bounded into the room and immediately offered me a Cognac and one of his favourite Indian cigars.

‘The satisfactory conclusion to a most unusual and problematic case is cause for a small celebration, would you not say?’ He smiled while applying the flame of a vesta to the tip of my cigar.

‘I could reply more definitively if I was to be more enlightened as to the exact details of its conclusion.’ I responded through a column of dark and resinous smoke.

‘Quite so and yet, unless I am very much mistaken, the time of your enlightenment is not too far away.’ Holmes was glancing casually through the window and I correctly concluded that our two guests had just arrived at our door. Once our guests had returned to the chairs they had occupied before, Holmes extinguished his cigar and filled his cherrywood from the Persian slipper as a prelude to his dénouement of the case. However it was Lestrade who spoke first.

‘I assume, Mr Holmes, that you have summoned us here to offer your sincere apologies to both the disillusioned Mr Clarke and myself.’ He said, still retaining his air of pugnacious confidence.

‘I was certain that this would prove to be your inevitable and yet erroneous conclusion, Mr Lestrade!’ Holmes responded whilst intentionally and maliciously omitting the hapless detective’s correct title. ‘You have careered clumsily through this case, basing all of your conclusions upon the evidence thrust into your face, without once standing back to analyse it.

‘Would a man possessing the talents and intellect with which Alfred Walker was so obviously endowed, commit a deliberate murder in so clumsy a manner? His heartrending display of grief, at the side of his wife’s corpse, and his intention to give his valued and faithful dog away, merely to appease her, were hardly the acts of a man set upon taking the life of his wife and partner. Mr Clarke, here, has attested to Walker’s enduring love and devotion in the face of almost intolerable abuse, and he was a model professional to the last.’

Lestrade now visibly reddened and began to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

‘Yet what other conclusion is one supposed to draw when faced with these incontrovertible facts?’ he asked in more subdued tones than he had used at first.

‘Broaden your field of vision, Inspector and make use of your limited imagination! Once we have concluded that Sonia’s death was not as a result of a malicious act, the only solution is that her demise was a tragic accident, although the cause of this is less obvious, given the uncanny accuracy of Walker’s throwing prowess.

‘Watson knows my methods and the first action I took was to conduct a thorough examination of the floor of the room in which the incident took place. More especially, the direction of my enquiry took in to account, to some degree,
the strange behaviour of Goldie the Labrador. After all, Labradors, as a rule, are quiet and docile animals and not prone to erratic behaviour. Once my questioning had established the exact routine and circumstances of the rehearsals, I realized at once that Walker was surely as much surprised at the tragic outcome on this occasion as everybody else had been and that the flight of his faithful hound had been of secondary importance to him.

BOOK: The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes
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