Sherlock Holmes: The Dark Reckoning Read Online Free Page B

notice
that each cut appears to go more deeply into the neck the further down you
look.  This is consistent of the arc the blade would travel if wielded by a
right-handed person.  I would further venture that the bruising on the chest
was caused by the murderer’s left hand pressing the victim down whilst he started
to cut his head off.”
    “That makes good sense, Holmes” replied Watson, carefully
examining the wounds. “You mentioned that the spine had been snapped.  How can
you be sure?”
    “If you look here, you can see several marks in the spine
made by the blade.  The deepest penetration occurs at this point,” explained
Holmes, indicating the mark on the spine.  “Below this, there is no such
marking.  It’s simply a clean fracture that’s far more likely to have been
caused by the head being snapped off.  Furthermore, the skin at the back of the
neck appears to have been torn, rather than cut.”
    Holmes turned to Dr. Death and said, “Thank you doctor. 
You’ve been far more helpful than you might imagine.  If you find anything further,
please contact me.”
    “Yes, of course, Mr. Holmes.  Good day, gentlemen.”
    Holmes and Watson turned to leave, and, as they did so,
Watson’s cane hooked itself onto one of the shrouds covering another body.  The
shroud was pulled off to reveal a corpse that had suffered severe
putrefaction.  The look of pure horror upon Watson’s face caused both Holmes
and Death to smile at each other.
    “I’m so sorry, Doctor!” blurted out Watson.
    “That’s quite alright, Dr Watson.  No damage has been done,
and I don’t think the victim has any modesty left in her,” answered the doctor,
still smiling.
    “Why is this young woman so decomposed?” asked Holmes.
    “It is suspected that she was a prostitute, murdered in Soho.  Nobody found her body until almost two weeks after she died,” explained the doctor.
    Watson, feeling somewhat embarrassed by his reaction to
seeing the body, attempted to change the subject by asking, “What made you go
into this particular line of medicine, Doctor?”
    “Well, with a name like mine, I would never inspire a great
deal of confidence in living patients,” smiled Death.
    Holmes and Watson left the morgue and returned to Baker Street.  Upon their arrival, Holmes went to his desk and wrote a cheque instructing
his bank to pay five pounds to the Salvation Army to help the poorer
inhabitants of the city.
    Watson stood, looking out of the window and suddenly
announced, “Holmes, it looks as if Lestrade is going to pay us a visit.”
    “Yes, I rather thought he might.”
    “What makes you say that, old fellow?”
    “I believe he is coming to tell us that the murder weapon
has been found.”
    “Holmes!  That’s incredible!  You can’t possibly know
that – it’s impossible!  In fact, I’ll wager five shillings that you’re wrong!”
    Holmes looked up at Watson and flashed a quick smile.  “I suggest
you refrain from gambling your money, Watson.  Why not give it to a charity
instead?”
    “Very well, if you are right about what Lestrade will tell
us, I will give one crown to the Salvation Army!”
    “Very well,” laughed Holmes, finding humour in Watson’s
compulsion to gamble, even when the benefactor was a charity.
    There was a loud knock on the door.  “Come in, it’s not
locked,” called out Watson.  The door swung open and Mrs. Hudson entered announcing
Inspector Lestrade.
    Holmes stood from the desk at which he had been sitting. 
“Come in, Lestrade,” he said, as he walked across the room and shook the
inspector’s hand.  He then went on, “Mrs. Hudson, would you be so kind as to
make us a pot of tea?”
    Mrs. Hudson nodded approvingly and left to make the tea.  Holmes
turned back to Lestrade and said, “Take your coat off and have a seat,
Lestrade.”
    Lestrade sat on the sofa, whilst Holmes returned to the desk
seat he had been occupying a few moments earlier, and turned it to