The Memoirs of Irene Adler: The Irene Adler Trilogy Read Online Free PDF

Selbow, please forgive me, I did not for one moment think that you might be planning to lead an ... unconventional life,’ I lied. ‘I expressed myself badly.’ I was now convinced I understood the situation: she was in a loveless marriage and wanted out. Husband was a bully, but there was not (yet) any evidence that might make a divorce action against him feasible. He was after all a man of laws. Rosa was clutching at straws and had approached me, feeding me lies, in the hope that I might discover some sort of evidence which would make her wish realisable. My initial reaction was one of disapproval as no one likes being lied to, but it took me no more than a few minutes to readjust my opinion. Inher desperation, knowing the dice to be loaded against her, the wretched woman had seen no alternative. Who does not clutch at straws when they are sinking? Why did we create the
Club des As
? Unless we do everything we can to help the underprivileged, we are nothing. Wasn’t that what Armande had said? Or was it Bartola?
    Algie, preoccupied as he was, by his friend Roger’s case, had not yet been able to find anything useful for us, but he was visiting me in the afternoon. I made it clear to Mrs Selbow that I was on her side and that I would try very hard to help her. I would never cast aspersions at a woman wanting to end her marriage with an unsatisfactory husband, to start a relationship with another woman if that was what she wished. I reserve my contempt for the man, who because of his position in life, uses his powers to belittle others, let alone his own wife. In my eyes such a man is a contemptible coward, and I would not hesitate to put a spoke in his wheel - or poke a finger in his eye. I would naturally much prefer to help Rosa legally, but if that were not possible, I might have recourse to
other
ways. I spent a sleepless night tossing about in my bed sweating, feeling frustrated at my inability to find a way out.
    I felt better in the morning and made my way to Warren Street. I usually change into Dai before leaving Water Lane now, which was lucky because I had no sooner brewed another cup of tea when Algie came in with a friend he introduced to me as Dr Arthur Ignatius Conan. He was an immaculately dressed and his impressive moustache made my fake one whisper to me to hide them in my mouth. ‘Arthur, do let me introduce my wife Irene,’ said Clarihoe. ‘Irene, Dr Conan.’ I noticed what humorous eyes the man had. Obviously Algie had complete trust in this Dr Conan. He told me that he had known Conan for a long time and that he was a thoroughly dependable friend and ally.
    We sat round my desk with cups of tea and Algie intimated that he had a purpose in bringing his friend to visit me. Arthur was a dedicated campaigner for justice, and had indeed been the guiding force behind the actions which had seen justice done to George Ehadji.
    ‘Oh yes,’ I said, remembering the case of the Parsi doctor wrongly accused of maliciously lacerating horses. ‘You must be the author of the Professor Challenger books?’
    ‘Yes, he writes under the name of Conan Doyle,’ said Clarihoe.
    ‘Ha, ha,’ Dr Conan laughed, ‘my little indulgences.’
    ‘The man simply cannot rest,’ said my husband. ‘Since his patients choose not to visit him in the night, he needs to find meaningful occupation. He gets on his horse and fights windmills. Obviously that’s not enough, because he does not need sleep like us ordinary mortals, so, since the pen is mightier than the sword he writes those fascinating books. He has a brain the size of his native city, the Auld Reekie. I know you read
The Lost World
, dear Heart, you told me you enjoyed it very much.’
    ‘Lord Clarihoe always exaggerates,’ said Dr Conan blushing and laughing.
    ‘I wanted you to meet him,’ said Algie. ‘Once again, he’s picked up his cudgels in order to save our friend Sir Roger.’
    ‘Your husband has often talked about you, your ladyship, but I