Read Sherlock Holmes and The Scarlet Thread of Murder Online

Authors: Luke Benjamen Kuhns

Tags: #Sherlock Holmes, #mystery, #crime, #british crime, #sherlock holmes novels, #sherlock holmes fiction, #sherlock holmes novellas

Sherlock Holmes and The Scarlet Thread of Murder (20 page)

BOOK: Sherlock Holmes and The Scarlet Thread of Murder
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“The satin glove; that is the invitation, is it not?” Holmes pressed.

“It is,” he confirmed.

“If I may return to the life oath,” Holmes said. “Would I be correct in assuming the reason the oath is taken is due to the fact that many high profile men are members, and an exposure of them would be detrimental to their image and wealth which would, by default, criminate the club?”

Oaks nodded in agreement.

“Who runs the club?” I asked.

“I don't know,” the banker said.

“What do you know?” commanded Holmes.

“A man called Ivory. He runs the operation. I don't know his real name. None of us do. Very few of us even see him. Just glimpses,” said Oaks.

Holmes was silent a while, looking at our detainee as he cowered in his chair.

“You have been most informative, sir. You've served the side of justice this day,” my friend said agreeably.

“If you go in there, you'll die,“ said Oaks. Holmes and I both gave him a piercing stare. “Anyone who has ever tried to get in or back at someone for revenge, debt, you name it, they get killed; and it's not very pretty.”

“Come, Watson, we must go!”

We darted out the building and hailed a cab. Leaping inside, Holmes told the driver to take us to Sullivan Docks as quickly as he could. By his expression, I could see he deeply was concerned.

“Holmes, what's the matter?” I asked, begging a response.

“Irene Adler in great danger.”

What Happened At Pier 4

Holmes was quiet the entire journey towards Sullivan Docks. No matter how hard I pressed, he said nothing. His eyes were fixed firmly ahead like an eagle stalking its prey, unmoving. There were only a handful of times in which had I witnessed Holmes succumb to his emotions. He was indeed a caring person, but his drive for logical and deductive reasoning often muted his softer sides. However, there was something altogether different about his demeanour as we sat in this cab. It appeared to me that something else was driving him. Still, I was attempting to wrap my thoughts around this unknown danger, which apparently faced Miss Adler, and why Holmes was taking us here rather than back to her apartment.

The sun was setting, and I could see its rays sparkle off the water as we grew closer to our destination. Ahead I saw two large red-brick buildings connected by a tall iron gate. The driver stopped outside the gate, above which sat a sign reading ‘Sullivan Docks'. As I stepped out of the cab, I noticed a large chain held the gate firmly shut, and I began looking for other means of entry. Holmes waved the driver on and then took a look at the blockade before us.

“How are we meant to get in?” I pleaded.

“The very same way Miss Adler did!” returned Holmes as he ran over to a pile of crates, boxes, and barrels that lined one of the red-brick buildings.

“How do you know she's here?” I asked as I followed him in climbing atop the unstable pile.

“An obvious fact, can't you see?”

“Holmes, I never doubt your powers but I admit confusion! You must be clear, how can you possibly know she's here?”

My friend pulled something from the window above us. Once he had freed the item, he extended it towards me. It was a yellow lily.

“Miss Adler wore a yellow lily in her hair!” I confirmed.

“She did, and she's here now. She took matters into her own hands despite my telling her not too! Now we must get inside and make sure no villainy has befallen her!”

Holmes shimmied his way through the window and I followed behind. To our luck, there was a walkway on the other side of the window to break what would have been a rather long fall. Holmes and I vacated the building and found our way onto Pier 4 where The Society gathered. The area was like a ghost town, and an eerie sense of abandonment hung in the air. No boats were docked, no workers could be seen or heard, everything was still. Holmes and I made sure we crept close to the buildings so not to be seen too easily.

“Look, Holmes!” I pointed ahead in the distance. I could see a small, steam-powered vessel, and on the deck was the figure of a man.

“That is Pier 4. Come, we must hurry and find Miss Adler.”

“And hope that they do not already have her!”

We quickly made our way towards the building labeled Pier 4. We pressed up against the side of the brick structure, and Holmes took a quick peek at the vessel.

“They are making ready to leave, Watson.” We heard the sound of a group drawing near. “Stay back!” he exclaimed in a whisper, pushing into me and signalling to kneel down. Around the corner a group of men could be heard chatting as they hurried onto the steamboat. Holmes crawled to have another look.

“What do you see?” I asked.

“I see four men, quite rough, dressed in wide brimmed hats, leather boots, and frock coats. They are boarding the boat.”

“We must stop them!” I pressed.

“We have nothing to stop them with. They have heavy weapons more powerful than your service revolver.” I could hear the sound of the steamboat powering up in the water and casting off from the pier.

“Come, let's go inside!” said Holmes. He darted around the corner and through an unlocked door.

The inside was unlike a typical docking building. It was not simply a large open workspace or factory. It was designed like a mansion. Hallways and rooms were lined with elegant wallpaper, and the floors were lined with fine hard wood. As we journeyed deep into The Society's lair, the strong smell of tobacco and an even stronger smell of opium stained the air.

“I can see how you picked up on the opium on Norton's clothes. I fear our own will smell of this stench for some time,” said I.

Holmes sniffed the air a few more times. “I can smell gunpowder too. Heavy amounts of it, in fact.” Holmes began to pick up speed, darting in and out of rooms. He opened up a door and paused. “We have a serious problem.”

I looked inside the room and there, stored inside a vast room, were barrels of gunpowder and in the centre of the room was an explosive device. Several stick of dynamite connected to a timed detonator.

Holmes raced over, and we could hear the clockwork ticking. “Can you stop it?” I was suddenly cut off when I heard the loud cry of a woman calling for help. “That's Miss Adler!”

“There's not much time!” said Holmes. “I will see to this explosive. You hunt for Miss Adler and get her out. I will meet you at the entrance!”

“Holmes...”

“Watson, this is no time for sentiment!”

I nodded and raced out the room to look for Miss Adler.

My heart raced as I realised that I had no idea of the time frame. Could Holmes dismantle the explosive before I got Miss Adler out? I tried to force these thoughts to the back of my head and simply focus on finding her. The sound of her screams led me through the halls to a spiral staircase. I raced up. Once atop, I saw below a large ballroom type area. It was a most elegant room with seating areas, a bar, and dozens of spots for the consumption of opium. There were curtained off areas where I presume more scandalous actions would occur. However, my gaze upon all this was quickly diverted. Down in the centre of the room sat Miss Adler. She was in male clothing. Dark stiff looking trousers and white work shirt, and coat.

“Steady!” I cried, and I saw her look up towards me.

“Dr Watson!“ she cried. I raced towards her.

“Are you all right?” I knew upon approach that was a foolish question. I could see stains of blood upon her face. Her hair, once lovely and pristine, was now wild and disheveled. Her clothes were stained with her blood. Her arms were held behind her back and I realised they were chained to the floor, as were her feet.

“Doctor, hurry! We've got to get out of here!” she pleaded. I pulled at the chains but had no luck. With no time to lose, I aimed my revolver at the chain and fired a shot. The bullet shattered the chains. I did the same with the restraints around her feet, and I helped lift her from the seat.

As she stood, she embraced me tightly. In any other circumstances it would have seemed inappropriate, but one cannot judge another's reaction when they are saved from death.

“Come with me!” she said, taking hold of my wrist. The two of us ran out of the room and into an office-like space. Papers and cabinets were tossed and turned. Miss Adler shuffled through the papers. I saw a window and looked out to see directly below was water.

“We really must go!” I commanded.

“Just a moment, get the window open!” she replied. I did and turned to see her stuff something into her dress. “Ready Doctor?”

I helped her through the window. She leapt out, and I followed behind. No sooner had we hit the water than a great plume of fire rose up and spread out across the water's surface. Holding my breath and keeping my head under was difficult while the excitement atop calmed. I had lost Miss Adler in the jump, and I had no idea if Holmes had made it out alive.

I shot up to the surface of the water. The waves tossed, and debris from the exploded building crashed into me. I called out for Miss Adler, but received no response. I floated in the water in disbelief. Was she dead? Was I the only survivor? Was Holmes nothing more than a burnt corpse inside the blazing structure? I felt heavy inside, as if my grief might cause me to sink and find, for myself, a grave in this New York bay.

For a moment I thought I could hear the sound of my wife calling my name. If anything, she was what I needed to return to. A wave splashed against me and woke me from this daydream. However, I could still hear my name being called.

It was Miss Adler! She was further out than I. We swam towards each other, then struggled back to shore. I found a ladder and let Miss Adler climb up first. She and I both lay collapsed on the ground, looking up into the darkening sky. The Society's lair was utterly destroyed, leaving no trace of its existence.

“Doctor Watson?” said Miss Adler keeping her eyes towards the heavens.

“Yes?” I replied doing the same.

“I'm frightened to ask where Mr Holmes is.”

“He was,” I paused, “inside.” There was silence between us for some time. The only thing we could hear was the crackling of fire.

“When you look out at space, it all seems so peaceful and calm. Do you suppose there is as much chaos out there as there is here?” said Miss Adler, breaking the silence.

“I have no answer. I suppose from out there we, too, must look calm and peaceful.”

“I shouldn't think that the universe is guided by any other laws than those found here upon this very earth,” came a familiar voice. I turned my head and there, standing behind us, was Sherlock Holmes.

“You're alive!” I cried, jumping to my feet. “I thought you were dead!”

“Thank the Lord!” said Miss Adler, doing the same.

Holmes was in no better shape than we were. His clothes were tattered and burned, his face was dirty, and his hair scruffy.

“I should think a ‘thank you'
is
in order. We have all had a narrow escape!” said Holmes.

“What happened?” I asked.

“I was unfamiliar with the explosive they used. I did my best to defuse it but failed. I was, however, able to deduce from the mechanism that we had a ten minute window. I struggled until I was left with three minutes. I ran towards the room from which I had heard your screams, Miss Adler. Watson had fired your gun and the both of you raced out the other side of the room, and so I, too, made my own escape. The explosion knocked me over, resulting in my present state.”

“It is good to see us all intact!” I exclaimed, and Miss Adler agreed.

“Let us retire to mine and clean up,” said she. “The fire brigade will arrive shortly and it would be best for us to not be here.”

“That would be wise,” returned Holmes.

***

Returning to the Brownstone to clean up, we sat together in the study. Irene Adler lay upon the sofa while Holmes and I took to the chairs in mild exhaustion.

“Woman,” Holmes began, “You have acted most foolish today.”

I was taken aback by Holmes's outburst.

“I beg your pardon?” she returned, with a sharp look towards the detective.

“You called for
my
aid, so let me aid. Do not go running off so childishly into the dragon's lair! We need information, and now The Society is all but a pile of rubble and virtually useless.”

“You're right, I called for your assistance. That doesn't mean I'll sit idly by why you investigate, we do this together!” Holmes looked upon Irene Adler, his temper cooling. “It's not as useless as you think,” said Miss Adler sharply. “Let me recount my own events. I did not intend to lead you astray, let me be clear on that. When you left to visit Mr Oaks I started to think about the satin glove and The Society. The more I thought about the encounter I had with Oaks, I recalled him mentioning a dock. No name, but a dock. Now, Mr Holmes, if you'll notice, in my husband's journal, pier 4 is named. I followed my hunch, and I turned out to be right. The Docks were shut, which I found odd, so I climbed in through an open window.”

“Yes, we found a lily,” said I.

“I hoped you would. I left that for you incase things went south,” she admitted. Holmes briefly smirked. “I walked onto pier 4 and looked around. I could hear voices - men - but I could not see anyone. As I walked down a hallway I was stopped when a man exited a room. He was tall, with a big bushy moustache and thick sideburns. He wore a nice suit, an expensive one.

“‘Mrs Norton,' said he in a deep southern voice, ‘what brings you here?' I revealed my pistol, and he chuckled. ‘Do you intend to kill me? You don't even know who I am.'

“‘You tell me who killed my husband and maybe I'll let you live,' I replied.

“‘The only person responsible for your husband's death is himself; just like the only person responsible for your death is yourself.' I cocked my gun, but was assaulted from behind. I fired a shot but it only hit the wall. Two strong men held me on each side and dragged me into the main hall where Doctor Watson found me. I must be honest and say that I did not get a good look at the men who held me, but they did have a foul odour to them. I can imagine that they were nothing more than outlaws hired or in association with this man, Ivory.”

BOOK: Sherlock Holmes and The Scarlet Thread of Murder
5.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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