Part 31 (1/2)
”But what about the tiara? How do I explain to Ja is testaations continued in London, you were on the trail of therooftop chase to their lair They escaped in a death-defying leap into the Thareat personal danger”
”A lie,” I said, looeration, Watson, exaggeration!”
”What would Mary say?” I wondered, aloud
My friend struck ahis features in uished the matist, and would have seen that you did your level best to save your friend's embarrass you from London on ainto the clutches of a thief”
As the dawn light began to creep through the s of 221b Baker Street, Sherlock Holh into the air ”Ah, Watson Sooner or later, everything becomes the property of a thief”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mark Wright is a writer, journalist and producer who has written forDoctor Who, The Sarah Jane Adventures, Highlander and Blake's 7 He has written audio draular contributor to Doctor Who Magazine For Big Finish productions he is the producer of the original science-fiction series Graceless and the co-producer of Iris Wildthyme and with Cavan Scott has contributed to the coes many tie, with his short play, ”Looking for Vi”, being selected as a finalist at the Off Cut Festival 2011 At the end of 2012, shooting began on a film adaptation of the play, which will premiere in 2013 He lives in Yorkshi+re with his family
WOMAN'S WORK
BY DAVID BARNETT
Mrs Martha Hudson had carefully excised the pages froazine with a sharp pair of scissors and had co the with si three ti that there was so at the door of 221b Baker Street
She wiped her hands on her starched apron, filed the scrapbook away in her carpet bag, which always hung beneath the butcher's block preparation table, and went to adjust the gas flame under the lamb stew she had just put on the stove; dinner wasa conundru to interrupt her carefully planned schedule for Mr Holmes and Dr Watson, at any rate That hy she , especially as the nights were drawing in: they were less likely to spoil as her tenants and charges allowed theet wrapped up in whateverupon the doorstep The bell sounded i,” Mrs Hudsonagainst the range She had been intending to brush the small back courtyard before dinner She hoped whoever was now ringing the bell for the third volley of shrill chi to overly divert her frouessed, Inspector Lestrade, bearing a parcel wrapped in newspaper that gave off a reeable odour
”Is hi, his ferrety-black eyes shi+ning like pinpricks beneath the brim of his derby
Mrs Hudson opened the door wide to allow the inspector entrance to the hallway She had beeswaxed the ork just this e was already wrestling the scent of her hard work to the carpeted floor and beating it into submission
”Fish, Inspector? I already have a lamb stew on for his dinner”
Lestrade tapped the side of his not inconsiderable nose ”I doubt he'll want to eat this, Mrs Hudson, but I as and polish off the mystery attached to it”
”No doubt to help tip the scales of justice in your favour,” nodded Mrs Hudson, taking Lestrade's coat and hat
He looked at her quizzically, then shrugged ”Are they in the parlour?”
Mrs Hudson rapped on the parlour door and cleared her throat as she swung it open; one never quite knehat they ht find in any of the rooraph one's entrance At one time she would have been surprised to find her lanky, hawkish tenant standing in his slippers and robe, ar a rapier with its business-end at the throat of the perpetually perplexed-looking Dr Watson, but not any more
”thus you see, Watson, that a left-handed swordsman could not have comfortably severed the left ear of his victim unless he used an anti-clockwise flourish of the wrist, which we are told he did not but rather, in e, employed a most definite doard slash”
”Bravo, Holentlythe point of the rapier away from his throat with the palm of his hand ”Now I don't need to read the rest of that mystery story”
”The perpetrator is a dreadful hack, anyway,” said Holmes ”But my finely attuned senses tell me we have a visitor with a mystery of his own of a rather squae on the coffee table The stench became even more pronounced as he unwrapped it, to indeed reveal a fish, perhaps twelve inches from nose to tail, its dark scales dappled hite Its eyes were glassily blank and a long slit had already been carved in its underside Holarded it intently, then closed his eyes
”Salhed, her sudden expectoration sounding so not unlike Char! Char!
”Ah, but wait” said Holmes ”Salvelinus leuco open ”Coh not entirely a common fish” The detective bent forward and sniffed ”Dead for so to extract a confession from it, Lestrade?”
Watson chuckled ”More likely, he wishes us to catch the murderer!”
”Murderoff the sarding this fish, Lestrade?”
”I do,” said Lestrade stoutly
”Then the gahtedly, but to blank looks froath about twelve inches”
”Ah, the ga his hands ”Oh, you are clever, Holmes”
Holentle any refreshment?”
”Tea, Inspector Lestrade?” enquired Holer?”
Lestrade eyed the brandy decanter on the sideboard ”Oh, perhaps so”
As Watson went to do the honours, Mrs Hudson nodded ”I'll be in the kitchen, then”
But as she closed the parlour door behind her, she paused then put an ear against the ork, listening intently to the voices within
”Yesterday afternoon,” said Inspector Lestrade, finishi+ng his brandy and offering his glass to Watson for a refill, ”this was dropped off at the Coned by one Melvin Jacobs, inforate Fish Market”
”He purchased it hi doith a fresh brandy ”Presumably he is not of a position to employ a housekeeper,” said Lestrade ”And the letter said his wife is laid up with a very ate,” pronounced Holmes ”He is a member of the Jewry, and practically destitute”