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

wiped out a glass with a dirty towel. “Don’t know what you mean guv’ner,” he said, and put the glass onto a shelf.
    â€œGive us some gin,” said a man at the bar. Jeffry grabbed a bottle and glass and filled it for him.
    â€œI know he was here,” said I. “You can either help me or I can have a look at your books. I know you’ve made arrangements with local whores for the use of your rooms.”
    â€œYou’d like to know who they bring back. That’d be the real crime.” Jeffry grinned.
    â€œI do not care that others in authority have looked past this. I will not do the same. What I can promise is this: help me, and I will give you time to move your whores before we storm this cesspool!”
    Jeffry squinted at me. I glared back at him, unmoving.
    â€œGet us a whiskey!” shouted another man, slapping his open palm onto the bar. Jeffry walked away and I stormed out.
    ***
    I returned, empty-handed, to the station. Lamech’s body was brought in later that night, while White examined the remains of the explosive. Over the next twenty-four hours, the bodies from the explosion were identified. Further aid from other divisions of Scotland Yard stepped in to handle the amount of work. An Inspector Lestrade was put in place to interview survivors and speak with those who had lost loved ones, in the hopes of acquiring any leads.
    ***
    I dozed at my desk. A rattle at my door shook me awake. “Come in,” I called, wiping the sleep from my eyes and seeing the morning sun pour through the windows.
    â€œYou look like hell, Reid,” said White. “You’ve got a beautiful wife, go sleep with her rather than at your desk.”
    â€œI’d rather you not speak of me and my wife’s sleeping arrangements,” I said. “Tell me, what have you learnt?” White waved, and I followed him. In his private working chamber, Lamech’s body lay on a table. White had done the autopsy during the night. On a counter lay the remains of the explosive, along with some glass dishes filled with coloured powder, some magnifying instruments, and a few Bunsen burners boiling with strange liquids.
    â€œWell, you were right. Lamech was poisoned,” said White, looking over the dead body. “But not by any poison I’m familiar with. This purple colouring of the skin appears to be a side effect of the poison.”
    â€œA foreign poison.” I said, walking over and looking down at the corpse. “How did it get into his body?”
    â€œIt wasn’t injected into his system. There are no signs of a struggle or even so much as a needle prick on him. It was done orally, through food or drink.” White walked over to a scope. I followed. “Have a look.” I put my eyes to the scope and looked at the microorganisms. “His gut and intestines were full of the stuff. I can only imagine that this poison is tasteless and has no aroma, or at least was masked by another taste. He gobbled his food and drink, and by the time he got home the poison had taken effect, and he died.” I raised my eyes from the scope and looked at White. “So, there you have it.”
    â€œIt was done through his food,” I said. “The only place he went, or at least the only place his family told me he went, was the public house. I paid them a visit. They were, of course, no help at all. It would seem they have something to hide.”
    â€œThink you ought to pay them another visit. Perhaps a nice little raid is in order?”
    â€œWhat of the explosive?” I questioned.
    â€œIt’s definitely one of Lamech’s designs. I knew that from the beginning,” said White, as he ran his hand through his hair. “It’s the chemicals he uses, they leave those colour marks which were left. The device used an unknown chemical compound that Lamech and his group have never used.”
    â€œWhat are you