The House of Silk_ The New Sherlock Holmes Novel - Anthony Horowitz [98]
‘It’s true, Holmes,’ I exclaimed. ‘I never looked at you. All my attention was focused on the coffin.’
‘I have to say that your sudden appearance was the one eventuality that I had never considered and I was afraid that at the very least you might reveal your acquaintanceship with Dr Trevelyan. But you were magnificent, Watson. I would say that having both you and the warder there actually added to the sense of urgency and made Harriman more determined to chase down the coffin before it left.’
There was such a twinkle in his eye as he said this that I took it as a compliment, although I understood the role I had actually played in the adventure. Holmes liked an audience as much as any actor on the stage and the more there were of us present, the easier he would have found it to play the part. ‘But what are we to do now?’ I asked. ‘You are a fugitive. Your name is discredited. The very fact that you have chosen to escape will only help to persuade the world of your guilt.’
‘You paint a bleak picture, Watson. For my part, I would say that circumstances have immeasurably improved since last week.’
‘Where are you staying?’
‘Have I not told you? I keep rooms all over London for eventualities just such as this. I have one nearby, and I can assure that it is a great deal more agreeable than the accommodation I have just left.’
‘Even so, Holmes, it seems that you have inadvertently made many enemies.’
‘That does indeed seem to be case. We have to ask ourselves what it is that unites such disparate bodies as Lord Horace Blackwater, scion of one of England’s oldest families, Dr Thomas Ackland, benefactor of the Westminster Hospital and Inspector Harriman, who has fifteen years unblemished service in the Metropolitan Police. This is the question that I put to you in the less than congenial surroundings of the Old Bailey. What do these three men have in common? Well, the fact that they are all men is a start. They are all wealthy and well connected. When brother Mycroft spoke of a scandal, these are the very sort of people who might be damaged. I understand, by the by, that you returned to Wimbledon.’
I could not possibly conceive how, or from whom, Holmes could have heard this but it was not the time to go into such details. I merely assented and briefly told him of the circumstances of my last visit. He seemed particularly agitated by the news of Eliza Carstairs, the rapid decline in her health. ‘We are dealing with a mind of unusual cunning and cruelty, Watson. This matter cuts very deep and it is imperative that we conclude this business so that we can visit Edmund Carstairs again.’
‘Do you think that the two are connected?’ I asked. ‘I cannot see how the events in Boston and even the shooting of Keelan O’Donaghue at a private hotel here in London could possibly have led to the horrible business with which we are now occupied.’
‘But that is only because you are assuming that Keelan O’Donaghue is