Sherlock Holmes and the Ghosts of Bly Read Online Free Page B

or Rugby XV teams, and regatta crews. In a final alcove rose a hall-stand with a central mirror, hooks on either side for hats and coats, a drawer for gloves, a well on each side for umbrellas or walking-sticks and a rack at floor-level for boots and shoes. Holmes paused to remove his deer-stalker and hang it on a convenient hook.
    Winter was a somewhat younger man than Sir John Fisher had led me to expect but still closer to fifty than forty. A curiosity was that his expression, even under strong emotion, appeared to alter very little. His head, almost entirely bald, shone for all the world as if he polished it.
    Reginald Winter shook us strongly by the hand, indicated two chairs, but himself remained standing before his fireplace. How much does a room tell one of its tenant? Pride of place at the centre of the mantelpiece was held by the most exquisite model of HMS Warrior , Britain’s first ironclad battleship, easily recognised by her black hull and stumpy yellow funnels. To one side stood an old-fashioned pipe-rack with a row of half-a-dozen briar-root pipes, a tobacco jar and a soft leather pouch. A new briar remained in its unopened box, bearing the familiar advertising scroll “Thinking Men Smoke Petersen Pipes.” Mr Winter plainly saw himself as a “thinking man.”
    At the other end of the shelf, I noticed a business card advertising “William Fortescue, Army, Navy, And General Outfitter, Royal Opera Arcade, Pall Mall. Price Lists and Instructions for Self-Measurement Sent on Application.” The effect of Mr Winter was to make me wonder how much commission our host received for each garment bought by the parents from Mr Fortescue.
    Everywhere, the study certified the manliness of its occupant. Walking-sticks, golf-clubs, even a fencing-mask and a pair of foils, competed with a tiger-skin rug before the fender and the stuffed head of a stag above the mantelpiece.
    The headmaster seated himself a little above us by perching on the padded leather top of the iron fender surrounding his hearth. He smiled without humour, as if to assure us that he was the master of the place and we should know it.
    Before he could begin, Holmes said, “Let us come to the matter of Patrick Riley.” His voice was cool and detached with all the amiability of a crocodile. I was unhappily aware of the instinctive mutual dislike of these two men.
    Reginald Winter looked him straight in the eye.
    â€œI have agreed to discuss this matter with you on the advice of Admiral Fisher. However, gentlemen, with the evidence of the witnesses before me I cannot reasonably doubt that an act of theft has taken place and Riley himself has ceased to deny his part in it.”
    â€œOr admit it,” said Holmes casually.
    â€œQuite so. Against this, I grieve that the shame of that act and its discovery drove the poor boy to an attempt against his own life.”
    â€œIndeed?”
    â€œIndeed, Mr Holmes. I am a firm man, as my duty here requires. At the same time, believe me, I am neither vindictive nor callous. Between ourselves, Riley comes from what I am bound to call a starveling background. The temptation to theft must have been tragically potent. To keep him as a pupil, with all his schoolfellows knowing what he had done, would be impossible. It would be crueller to him than to them.”
    â€œThough not as cruel as to destroy the future hope of an innocent boy?”
    Winter spread out his hands in a gesture of sincerity and boundless generosity.
    â€œAt the worst, I suppose, the poor fellow has been criminal. I prefer to think that, on both occasions, he was merely weak. The second occasion appears to confirm the first, does it not?”
    A familiar look in Holmes’s eye assured me that Winter had just stepped neatly into a trap.
    â€œWithout it we should lack that confirmation, should we?”
    But the headmaster was not so easily caught.
    â€œMr Holmes, I have known this boy for almost two