The Scroll of the Dead Read Online Free Page B

gentlemen’s eau de toilette still lingering about the the leather grip. The owner obviously handled the weapon while his fingers were still moist with the perfume and it has soaked into the fine crevices of the tooled leather. For so persistent an aroma to remain, this particular fragrance could not have been purchased for less than fifty shillings a bottle, which indicates both the expensive taste and the extravagant nature. The fact that there was only one bullet in the gun suggests our young villain was supremely confident that only one bullet was required for the deed. That smacks of remarkable arrogance also. The probability that this fellow adorned himself with expensive eau de toilette before going out to commit a horrid crime implies that he views murder almost as a social event – which suggests to me a certain element of mental instability.’
    ‘Extraordinary,’ murmured Hardcastle. I was unsure whether he was referring to Holmes’ ability to fill in so many details about the murderer from a brief examination of his gun or to the character of the killer as my friend had described him.
    ‘Those few details may be of assistance as the case progresses, but at present they do not get us very far. I suspect that the real help will come from discovering more about the nature of the item that was stolen.’
    Hardcastle appeared unconvinced. ‘As I said, Mr Holmes: it was just some old papyrus document covered with ancient writing.’
    ‘Hieroglyphics,’ I said.
    The policeman’s face crumpled with distaste. ‘So I gather, Doctor. I must admit I’m much more at home with the theft of plate, stolen gems, or a straightforward shoot ‘em or stab ‘em murder case.’
    Holmes’ eyes sparkled mischievously. ‘And it has taken you approximately forty-eight hours to discover that you are out of your depth in the matter. Ah, don’t deny it, Inspector. The deterioration of the cordite in the gun-barrel tells me that it is some two to three days since it was fired; and, quite honestly, old chap, the depth of the furrows on your brow speaks of a weary problem, one that has been with you for several days and not one that has been thrust upon you overnight. It is Monday morning now. I would estimate that the robbery took place on Friday night. Am I correct?’
    Hardcastle nodded dumbly.
    ‘But there has been no mention in the press of the crime,’ said I.
    ‘We managed to keep it out of the papers,’ Hardcastle replied. ‘We needed the time to check up on the various dealers who handle this kind of specialised merchandise before the press got wind of it.’
    ‘“Dusty” Morrison and his ilk?’
    The inspector nodded. ‘That’s right, Mr Holmes. We followed up all the known leads both in and out of the Rogues’ Gallery, but we hit a brick wall with all of ‘em.’
    ‘How valuable is this document?’ I asked.
    Hardcastle shrugged. ‘They can’t really put a price on it. To you or me, Doctor, it would be pretty worthless, but to a connoisseur of thesekinds of things, it’s priceless.’ Suddenly the policeman strained forward, his face twisting into a pained grimace as though he were suffering from acute toothache. ‘To be honest with you, this is beyond me, Mr Holmes. I do hope you can see your way to shedding some light on the matter.’
    ‘Delighted to, Hardcastle,’ said Holmes, throwing me a sidelong glance. ‘You know I’m always happy to assist the official force whenever I am able.’
    The policeman beamed and his body visibly relaxed. ‘That’s wonderful,’ he said. ‘I have a cab waiting. If you’d be so good, we can go round to the British Museum now. Sir Charles Pargetter, the Curator of the Egyptology section, can explain to you all about this blasted papyrus.’
    ‘Excellent,’ cried Holmes, flinging off his dressing gown. ‘Are you game, Watson?’
    ‘Certainly.’
    ‘Then, my dear fellow, collect your coat, hat, and stick and we shall accompany our friend here to the British