The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures - Mike Ashley [172]
“But what other place might that be, Mr Holmes?” Makinson enquired.
“Wherever Mr Crosby went after leaving the bank might give us a clue,” Holmes retorted. “I saw from your report, Inspector, that Crosby’s apartment showed no signs of anyone being there since the morning: the fire was burnt down and breakfast things were in the sink. It is my opinion that wherever Mr Crosby went early that evening is where he encountered his killer.”
“Good lord,” I said. I glanced across at Makinson and saw that he looked as queasy as I felt.
“But why would he want these … these marks in the first place? What does he do with them?”
Holmes turned to me. “Watson, perhaps you would be kind enough to explain the causation of a so-called birthmark?”
“Well,” I said, “nobody actually knows why they are caused.
“They are most common in newborn babies, often called the ‘stork’s beak’ mark because they occur on the forehead between the eyebrows and on the nape of the neck … as though a stork had had the child’s head in its beak. These are transient phenomena that disappear as the baby grows. A popular but incorrect theory is that they are caused by the caul, the inner membrane enclosing the foetus, adhering itself to the child and becoming enmeshed into the child’s own skin as it develops in the womb. Such marks are also sometimes referred to as ‘God’s fingerprints’, and to many they signify good fortune.”
Makinson snorted loudly. “Doesn’t seem much like good fortune to me,” he said, “carrying a big red mark on your face all your life.”
“As I said, Inspector, these marks usually disappear as the child grows older. The ones that stay are called port wine stains or strawberry naevi, due to their colouring. The technical name is cutaneous haemangiomata, which refers to an abnormally large collection of blood vessels in the skin … an over production, if you will. These are most commonly on the face – the case of Crosby the banker is typical – although they can occur anywhere on the body.
“The port wine stains stay throughout life, although they do lose some of the intense colouring in later years; the strawberry naevi do not usually persist.”
Holmes nodded. “Let us imagine that our killer believes the old tale that such signs are the harbingers of good fortune,” he said. “It might follow that such a fellow could conceivably feel that to own more of these would be to improve the quality of his life. Someone, perhaps, whose life has not been particularly fortunate.”
“You said ‘more’ of these,” I said.
“Yes, I did. I would expect the killer to be equally marked and to have been told, perhaps by his mother, that such a marking meant that he had been touched by God. The fact that his life did not reflect such fortune caused him to think that further marks were needed to change his luck.”
I looked across at Makinson. The Inspector seemed unconvinced. “That’s as well as maybe, Mr Holmes,” he said, “but how does the killer identify his victims? Apart from the teacher and the banker, these marks was covered over all the time they was on public show.”
“Perhaps not all the time, Inspector,” said Holmes, his eyes flashing wide. “Tell me, do you have a municipal swimming bath in the town?”
Makinson shook his head. “No, nearest swimming bath is in Leeds.
Holmes smiled, and this time the smile did have traces of pleasure. “Watson,” he said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. “For what is Harrogate renowned?”
“Renowned? Harrogate?” I searched my brain for some clue as to what my friend had in mind. “Other than a cold wind that would not be out of place at the North Pole, I cannot imagine,” I said at last.
“The water, Watson!”
“Water?” I still failed to grasp the significance.
“Harrogate is a spa town, famed for the so-called