Sherlock Holmes: The Dark Reckoning Read Online Free Page A

the society that allows it to continue.”
    The two men continued their journey through the grimy alleys
and under derelict arches in silence.  The dark brown brickwork, covered in
grime, seemed to reflect the dark mood Holmes found himself in.
    Eventually, they arrived in Haymarket, the pleasant
environment a complete contrast to the squalor they had left behind.  They
turned into Pall Mall, and continued on to Trafalgar Square, and then, Whitehall.  They passed by Scotland Yard and, a short distance later, arrived at the morgue.
    Inside, they were greeted by a very tall, thin man with grey
hair.  His skin was wrinkled and there was a slight grey pallor to his
complexion.  His cheeks were sunken, giving the impression that his skin had
been stretched over his cheek bones.  His dark brown eyes were set back in his
head and looked dull.  He was wearing a blood stained overall that had,
originally, been white.
    Upon seeing Holmes and Watson enter, he smiled and said,
“Good morning, Gentlemen.”
    “Good morning, Dr. Death,” replied Holmes.
    “What can I do for you, Mr. Holmes?”
    “Have you received the body found in Hyde Park yesterday
afternoon, Doctor?”
    “Yes, he’s over there,” replied Death, pointing to a covered
body upon one of the examination tables.  The doctor walked over to the table,
followed by Holmes and Watson.  Holmes looked around the morgue and noticed what
a strange place it was.  The walls were whitewashed brickwork that hadn’t been
painted for several years.  There were a few small windows set high in the
walls, each of which had green painted frames.  The ground was cobbled stone
that had been covered with sawdust.
    Upon reaching the body, Dr. Death lowered the shroud down to
the waist of the headless figure.  The blue-white skin showed signs of bruising
around the shoulders and chest.
    Holmes couldn’t help noticing the similarity between the
smell of the morgue and that of a butcher’s shop.  In addition to the familiar
smell of a butcher’s shop, there was also a strong smell of antiseptic.
    “What can you tell me about the victim, Death?” asked Holmes,
unable to resist smiling at his use of the word ‘death’.
    “Well, his head has been removed,” smiled the doctor, in
reply.  “Judging by the bruises on his shoulders and, more especially, the
chest, I would say that he was held down whilst lying on his back during the
attack.  The last thing he possibly saw was the murder weapon speeding towards
him.”
    Dr. Death paused shaking his head.  Despite his many years
in this profession, he still found the evidence of human cruelty hard to accept.
    He then continued, “I would estimate that death occurred
approximately 36 to 48 hours ago.  Judging from the cuts on his neck it’s
probable that he was struck with…”
    “A meat cleaver, yes I know,” interjected Holmes. “I briefly
examined the body yesterday afternoon.  Has the head been found?”
    “No, Mr. Holmes,” replied Dr. Death.
    “My I take a closer look at the wounds on the neck, Dr. Death?”
asked Holmes.
    “Of course you can.  If you look, you can see that it took two
blows of the weapon to reach the spine.  The spine, itself, appears to have
been struck several times.  I can’t tell you much more until I perform an
autopsy.”
    Holmes looked closely at the wounds, specifically interested
in the angle and depth of the cut lines.
    “Look here, Watson,” he said over his shoulder.  Watson
approached and looked at where Holmes was pointing.
    “What is it, old fellow?” he asked.
    “Judging by the bruising on the chest and the angle of these
cut lines, it is probable that the murderer is right-handed and, possibly,
quite tall.”
    “What makes you think that?”
    “From where we are standing, on the victim’s left hand side,
the lines caused by the blade slant downwards towards the opposite side of the
neck, as I told you yesterday after I had first seen the body.  Also,