The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures - Mike Ashley [32]
Being aware of his practice of using tobacco for a stimulus to his thought processes until the room was filled with an acrid pall of smoke, I was happy to oblige.
When I returned next day at noon I was met by an astonishing sight. My friend stood in our little sitting-room transformed into a Bohemian with flowing locks, a flourishing moustache, a hat with a curled brim, a dashing cape and yellow spotted silk bandana knotted at his throat.
“Come, Watson, we can’t have you looking so dull. Break out your fancy duds.” His eyes were dancing merrily in his long lean face.
Accustomed as I was becoming to my friend’s disguises, I perceived some plan was afoot.
“I have nothing half so showy and shall be obliged to go as I am. Where are we going by the way?”
“I’ve work for you, Watson, if you’re willing to undertake it.”
“You know I’m always happy to oblige.”
“Thank you. I want you to call upon your colleague, Dr Royce Miles. I understand he has rooms in Knightsbridge. I want you to enquire in your professional capacity about the health of Lady Abernetty. Say you have had an enquiry about her and seek a word of discreet advice. Take careful note of the interview, how the good doctor looks, what he has to say, any minor detail, you know my methods.”
“And you, Holmes?”
“I’m off to join the Footlights Amateur Dramatic Society with the expectation of making the acquaintance of Charles Abernetty. You see before you Sebastian Food, aspiring actor. These ladies and gentlemen of leisure and thesbian pursuits are meeting for rehearsal of their forthcoming production. We’ll meet back here for supper and compare our findings.”
I had removed my damp outer wear and was sitting before the fire in my dressing-gown reading The Times when Sherlock Holmes returned from his expedition. One glance at his face showed even under the disguise that he was in a brooding, taciturn mood.
“Not now,” he said, in answer to my unspoken question. “I need to rid myself of these trappings and get a hot meal inside me before I can discuss the day’s events. Will you ring for Mrs Hudson and advise her of our readiness for supper?”
After Mrs Hudson’s excellent roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, he poured us both a whisky and soda and lit a cigar. For half an hour perhaps he sat in the darkened room, gazing meditatively into the fire. I knew him too well to break into his reverie.
The striking of the clock aroused him at last. “Let us have the lamp, Watson. I thought we might indulge in a game of whist before we go to bed.”
“You astound me, Holmes.”
“Do I? I won’t when I inform you we’ve been invited for a hand tomorrow afternoon at Grosvenor Square. I need to freshen up my knowledge of the rules.”
“I gather you’ve succeeded in making the acquaintance of Charles Abernetty.”
“Indeed I have. He’s quite the shining light of the Footlights Amateur Dramatic Society. A dapper little man, Watson, but somewhat nondescript in feature and colour which would I think give him the opportunity to play many roles. Quite theatrical in his approach to acting, but he has a few subtle nuances which are quite interesting.”
“In personality or stage presentation?”
Holmes chuckled. “You always come straight to the point with these little pragmatisms of yours. Yes, where does one leave off and the other begin? After I had watched the rehearsal I begged to be introduced to him by the President of the Society, whose acquaintance I had previously made. I praised Mr Abernetty’s performance extravagantly and he became quite enchanted with me with what seemed mingled vanity and a need for self-reassurance. Such was the rapport we established he invited me to accompany him to Drury Lane one evening where an artist he greatly admires is presently performing.
“The subject of whist somehow crept into the conversation. When I said I played he immediately invited me for tomorrow afternoon. Did I have