Sherlock Holmes and The Scarlet Thread of Murder Read Online Free PDF Page A

an attic. The room was covered in Jewish symbols. A desk was piled with newspapers, letters, and several thick Torah scrolls. A strong aroma of incense hung heavy in the room. In the far corner sat two women on the floor, their backs to us. There was a body laid out in front of them. The tall man stood in a corner, smoking a cigarette. The women turned to look at us. One was elderly and frail looking, the other young and fair-skinned.
    â€œThey are his mother and sister,” the short man informed us.
    â€œI am Ruth,“ said the young woman. “This is Naomi.” Ruth pointed towards the older woman.
    â€œI am sorry for your loss,” I said removing my hat.
    â€œCan you tell us what happened?” Kipling asked.
    â€œWe do not know,” Ruth said. “He was fine until last night. He felt ill, talked lots of nonsense, as though he was dreaming but still awake. Then he fainted.”
    â€œWhen did he breathe his last?” I asked.
    The young woman looked at me sternly. “Is it always straight to business with you, Mr. Reid?”
    â€œMay we have a look at him?” Kipling asked softly. I was impressed with Kipling’s tact, and the woman appeared softer towards him. Ruth nodded and we approached.
    â€œHe departed from us an hour ago,” Ruth said. I looked upon the face of Abraham Lamech. There was a strange shading under his eyes and a sort of yellowish tint to his skin. His body expelled an aroma that was not one of death. It was something else. A toxin, but I could not be certain of which one.
    â€œWas he with anyone last night?” I pressed.
    â€œNot that we are aware. He went out for a drink.”
    â€œAt what time?”
    â€œHaven’t you pressed enough?” the tall man said from his corner, still fiddling with his loose ring. “I think you can leave us now.”
    â€œI think not. His manner of death was no accident. He was poisoned.”
    â€œHe went to the Inn round the corner. The White Stag,” Ruth said.
    â€œQuiet, woman!” snapped the tall man.
    â€œThey need to know,” she returned softly, but her eyes gave him a piercing stare.
    â€œDo you know who he saw there? Was he meant to be meeting anyone?” I asked. They were unsure. “Has he had any plans to bomb the Whitechapel and Mile End station?”
    The women were silent.
    â€œYou come here accusing a dead man of this?” the short man said.
    â€œHe did it, or someone wants us to think he did. An explosive very much like the ones we know he has used in the past was the cause of the tragedy today. Many are dead. If he had nothing to do with this, it’s important that we learn who did, but it all points here.”
    â€œWe know nothing of it,” the tall man said. The short man looked uneasy.
    â€œCooperation will go a long way,” I returned. The room remained silent.
    â€œWe’ll cooperate when swine like Lord Myers stop trying to force the Jews out of the city!” exclaimed the short man. The other shot him a fierce glance.
    â€œI’m not here to discuss matters of prejudice, nor the thoughts and actions of Lord Myers. I am here about the underground station. We will need Lamech’s body for autopsy .”
    ***
    Kipling and I came to an agreement with Ruth and the others regarding Lamech’s body. I sent Kipling back to the station to make arrangements for the body to be retrieved while I carried on to The White Stag. The streets were still quiet as Lamech’s followers mourned his passing in silence. Soon enough the sound of glasses clashing and the murmur of sloshed men could be heard here and there. I approached the public house, the smell of stale beer rushed into my lunges as I set foot inside. Glares of disapproval followed me as I walked up to the bar.
    â€œYour name, sir?” I asked the bartender.
    â€œJeffry,” the man managed to mumble.
    â€œLamech was here last night. Who was he with?”
    He