Part 5 (1/2)

'Demons from the pantheon of the Indian subcontinent,' Holmes replied tersely.

'Usually a.s.sociated with the wors.h.i.+p of Kali,' the Doctor added. 'Kali being the Indian G.o.ddess of death and destruction.'

'I thought you had been in India, Watson,' Holmes asked.

'I pa.s.sed through ten years ago on my way to Afghanistan,' I replied, 'but I confess I took little interest in the heathen ceremonies of the natives.'

The Doctor glanced over at me, and there was something dark and unpleasant in his eyes.

'G.o.d's in his heaven and all's right in the world,' he sneered.

I drew myself up to respond to the gibe, but Holmes interrupted, saying, 'And the books that were stolen: they were all a.s.sociated with this subject?'

'As you well know.'

As I watched the clash of wills between the two men I could not help but recall the words that I had written about Holmes some six years before, soon after the occasion of our first meeting. I had been drawing up a list of his interests in an attempt to more closely understand his character. I had jotted down, in no particular order, that he was well up on poisons generally, that he could tell at a glance different soils from each other, that his knowledge of anatomy was accurate but limited, that his knowledge of sensational crime and criminal law was immense and that he was an expert boxer, singlestick player and swordsman, but that he knew nothing of astronomy, philosophy or literature. At this point I had thrown the list away, crying: 'If I can only find what the fellow is driving at by reconciling all these accomplishments . . .!' I could see something of the same thought process concerning the Doctor going through Holmes's mind.

'Perhaps we might be better employed,' the Doctor said finally, breaking both Holmes's and my train of thought, 'in examining the list of other visitors to the Library. Accepting that I am naturally a suspect, we should question the others as soon as possible. May I see the list?'

Holmes turned away to gaze out of the window onto the Baker Street bustle below.

'I retain an accurate memory of the names,' he said, 'and there is, therefore, no necessity to examine the list. Your own name appears, of course, Doctor, as does that of a Mrs Kate Prendersly of Whitefields Lodge in Deptford, an inmate of Broadmoor named Minor, a certain Baron Maupertuis, his manservant, Surd...'

'How do you know he is the Baron's manservant, Holmes?' I interjected.

'The address is the same, Watson,' Holmes said, pityingly. 'And since he is only referred to by a surname, without any qualifier, the conclusion is obvious.'

'Any other names?' the Doctor asked.

'A Professor Challenger, whose address is given as ”care of the Royal Society”.'

'And?' The Doctor's expression was carefully neutral.

Holmes's voice was level as he replied: 'No other names appear on the list.'

'Are you sure, Mr Holmes?'

'Do you accuse me of dishonesty, Sir?'

'How should I presume?' the Doctor murmured.

'Perhaps,' I ventured, sensing the sudden hostility between Holmes and the Doctor, but not understanding its cause, 'we should visit these people. Talk to them. Ascertain their reasons for visiting the Library. Perhaps some pertinent fact might emerge of which we are at present unaware.'

'A capital idea,' the Doctor said, leaping to his feet and rubbing his hands together gleefully. 'I'll start with Professor Challenger, Doctor Watson can tackle Miss Prendersly and you, Mr Holmes...' He was still smiling, but his eyes glinted coldly. '. . . You can choose your own suspects.'

'Since you yourself are still a suspect,' Holmes retorted, 'might I suggest that you accompany Watson to Deptford.'

'Very well.' The Doctor made for the door, picking a multicoloured umbrella from the umbrella stand as he did so. 'I'll hail a cab.'

He vanished from our rooms and scampered down the stairs.

'A rum character,' I observed.

'There is more to that man than meets the eye,' Holmes said. 'He may seem to be at times almost ridiculous, almost the fool, but he has a shrewd brain. Watch him, Watson. Don't let him out of your sight. I want to know everything he says and everything he does.'

'But why on Earth do you want to a.s.sociate him with this investigation?'

'I suspect that he will be a.s.sociated with it whether we want him to be or not. At least this way we get to keep a close eye on him.'

I moved to take my walking stick from the coat rack, and exclaimed, 'Not raining outside, is it Holmes?'

'Not for days,' he replied. 'Why?'

'There's some water in the bottom of the coat rack.'

He bent to examine it, and came up rubbing his fingers together.

'Not water, Watson, but oil.'

'Oil?' I reiterated stupidly.

'Indeed. Most singular.' He wiped his hands on his jacket. 'You had better not keep the Doctor waiting.'

'And what of you, Holmes? What are your plans?'

'I shall endeavour to meet up with Mr Jitter's opposite number,' he said, 'Mack Yeovil and I have crossed swords before, and so I think some form of disguise is called for.'

I discovered the Doctor sitting at the bottom of our stairs and conversing with our page-boy in a casual manner that I felt was unsuited to dealings with a servant. I curtly bade him accompany me, and whistled down a hansom almost immediately. As the cab trotted off he planted his umbrella on the floor, rested his forearms upon its handle and frowned. A melancholic expression shadowed his features, and I found myself wondering who he was and where he came from.

'Gallifrey,' he muttered.

'I'm sorry?'

'You were wondering where I came from.'

'That's astounding. How did you know?'

'Elementary.'

'Gallifrey . . . that sounds Irish.'

He looked sideways at me and said nothing.

The cab clattered through London, with us sitting inside in silence. I watched with confused feelings the loungers, shop girls, street-sweepers and dollymoppers who thronged the streets. It was so easy to see them as a backdrop: a featureless, characterless crowd of extras, called on stage as we came near and sent back to their dressing rooms as we pa.s.sed. Most of Holmes's cases were conducted amongst people of our own cla.s.s or above; it was rare, especially since Holmes's reputation had spread and my medical practice in Paddington had become established, that we mixed with people below our station. And yet the events of that morning were still clear enough in my mind that I knew these people must have lives, homes, families, desires and hates that I never usually gave any consideration to.

The aegis of the British Empire stretched across many foreign lands, but it occurred to me for the first time that the division between rich and poor in London matched anything to be found in Bangalore or Calcutta.

' ”The poor always ye have with you”,' the Doctor quoted in a doom-laden voice, and then sighed. 'Wherever I go, certain universal truths always hold. There is always evil, and there are always those with and those without.'

We were pa.s.sing across the bal.u.s.traded expanse of London Bridge now.