The Steampunk Detective Read Online Free

confronted by a burly constable.
    “But what can the police do when they are forced to deal with a criminal matching their own intelligence? Or an adversary of greater intelligence?” Mr Doyle leant forward. “Such people can literally get away with murder and that cannot be allowed to happen. When the police are at a loss to discover the guilty party or are simply unable to make sense of the events, they call upon me.”
    Jack frowned. “I don’t keep up with the news, of course, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you.”
    “I’m sure you have not,” Mr Doyle nodded. “I am not keen to attract attention and the police are equally sparing with their recognition.”
    “But how do you solve these crimes?” Jack asked.
    “I use the powers of observation and deduction,” Mr Doyle said. “People frequently look, but rarely do they see. It is the role of a detective to collect the pieces of the jigsaw and assemble them into a comprehensible picture.”
    Jack glanced back into the apartment and noticed a sepia photograph on a small coffee table near the door. “Mr Doyle. Is that who I think it is?”
    Mr Doyle glanced at the picture. “Only if you think it is Queen Victoria. If you thought it was a hump backed gorilla you would be mistaken.”
    “And you’re standing next to her!”
    “I had assisted Her Majesty in a small matter involving a diamond necklace.” The detective shrugged. “The case involved the theft of the necklace, a dwarf with a limp, a plum pudding and a cat with only three legs.”
    “That sounds amazing.”
    “Oh, I have solved much more interesting cases.” Mr Doyle waved the pipe airily. He stood and slowly paced the balcony. “That was in my younger days.”
    The great detective fell silent. “Of course, I’m not the man I was. Oh, mentally I am. Probably more so. No, it’s my body, Jack. I’m not as fast, not as strong and certainly not as sprightly.”
    Jack sat silent.
    “That’s where you come in,” Mr Doyle said. “That’s why I need you.”
    Jack Mason tried to think of how he would be of assistance to the detective. “You mean, to run messages…or…”
    “More,” Mr Doyle said. “Possibly much more. I need someone to be my partner. Someone who can stimulate my imagination when I become stale. Someone who can go places where I cannot.”
    “Uh, Mr Doyle. I am only sixteen.”
    “I know,” the detective jabbed his pipe into Jack’s direction. “A younger mind. A fresh perspective! And your legs –”
    “My legs?”
    “I need someone with legs far more capable than my own. I cannot run as fast as my younger self and I certainly cannot climb as fast. And I understand you come from a family of circus performers.”
    “Yes.” Jack felt a stab of pain at the memory. “We were trapeze artists in the circus. The Flying Sparrows. We were very good.”
    “And your acrobatic skills?”
    “I’m a little rusty,” Jack admitted. “But I’ve kept in practice when I could. Still, I can’t help but wonder if you wouldn’t be better with someone older. An adult –.”
    Mr Doyle interrupted. “An adult can do many things, but you can do so many other things an adult cannot. Sometimes a young person may ask questions or go places without fear or favour, all the while wearing a mask of innocence.
    “I think you will be perfect for the job.” The detective paused, looking slightly embarrassed. “If you’re interested, that is.”
    Jack looked out at the skyline. Darkness had begun to fall and the first chill of night filled the air. Jack thought of the children back at the orphanage. They would be eating their evening meal right now. An hour of free time would follow, followed by bedtime. Tomorrow would follow the same pattern. And the day after.
    “You don’t have to decide immediately,” Mr Doyle seemed to sense his hesitation. “I’m sure you’ve had an enormous day. You must eat and rest.”
    Jack nodded wordlessly.
    “Would you like some