Sherlock Holmes and the King of Clubs Read Online Free Page A

that hails from Wisconsin, the so-called Badger State, wherein the “trick” itself originated.
    ‘Put simply, the idea was to lure you into a compromising position, after which a witness – the desk clerk, perhaps, or the woman’s “brother” – would have burst in and caught you
in flagrante delicto.
If you refused to pay for their silence they would have threatened to expose your infidelity unless their demands for cash were met.’
    The man paled at the suggestion. ‘You can’t mean that!’
    ‘I’m afraid I do, sir. Of course, you could always have called their bluff, informed them that it was merely their word against yours. That might have made them back down. But in this modern age, with such impressive advances in photography …’
    Without warning he suddenly struck the lacquered screen with his cane. It teetered and then toppled forward onto the carpet, revealing—
    ‘Robert!’ croaked Watson.
    For the man standing beside a Triple Victo camera on a wood-and -brass tripod was the person he believed to be Irene Hastings’s – or rather Mrs Channing’s – brother.
    ‘… the results would have been undeniable,’ Holmes concluded.
    Recovering himself, Robert dropped the magnesium-filled flashpan he was holding and clambered forward over the fallen screens, fists clenched, his expression contorted with pure hatred. For an instant Watson feared for Holmes, knowing that he was no longer a young man. But he had forgotten that Holmes was a master of the Japanese martial art
baritsu
.
    Crouching, Holmes used his cane like a billiard cue, using his right hand to thrust it up through the fingers of his left, slamming it into his attacker’s solar plexus.
    Winded, Robert fell back against the camera. The tripod and camera crashed to the floor. Its glass photographic plate popped out and shattered into pieces.
    As Robert tried to extricate himself from the broken tripod, Holmes barked: ‘Stay where you are!’
    Intimidated by Holmes’s tone, Robert grudgingly obeyed.
    Watson saw it all then – a tiny peephole artfully worked into the flowers painted on the lacquered screen and done in such a way as as to be almost invisible. Behind the peephole the camera had been set up to photograph the couple on the bed, providing irrefutable proof as to the man’s infidelity. Irene’s victim would have had no idea what was about to befall him until the flashpan ignited and the damning picture was taken.
    Her present victim saw as much for himself, and cried, ‘Oh dear God, I am ruined!’
    ‘On the contrary,’ Holmes said. ‘You have been given a second chance and one I hope you will take to its full advantage.’
    The man who had signed the register as ‘Mr Haslemere’ nodded. ‘I will,’ he assured Holmes earnestly. ‘This shall serve as a … a sobering lesson.’
    ‘Then I suggest you leave now as a wiser man than when you arrived.’
    ‘But what about …’ the man gestured toward Irene, who had crossed the room to help the still-seething Robert get to his feet.
    ‘Never fear,’ said Holmes. ‘This woman and her companion are finished.’
    The man needed no second urging. Greatly relieved, he grabbed his scarf and topper and ran from the room.
    After the sound of his departing steps had faded, silence again filled the room. The woman Watson knew as Irene Hastings said, ‘John, this isn’t what it looks like.’
    Watson almost laughed. ‘Then please explain it to my satisfaction. That, I think, would be
quite
a feat.’
    Before she could answer, Robert, having finally extricated himself from the broken tripod, grabbed her by the arm and pushed her toward the door. ‘We’re leaving,’ he snarled at Holmes. ‘And you’d better not try and stop us!’
    Instinctively, Watson moved to bar their escape. But Holmes shook his head. ‘Let them go, old friend. We have done our bit.’
    Watson disagreed, but he trusted Holmes and if he said thematter was finished, then he must have a good reason