The Mandala of Sherlock Holmes - Jamyang Norbu [28]
The blighter licked his thick, dry lips, but said nothing.
'Ah, well. It is a minor point and we can come back to it later when you feel more cooperative.'
'Oh! no, you don't,' said Strickland fiercely, pushing the now terrified clerk firmly back on the bed that he had again surreptitiously tried to vacate.
'No, Mr Carvallo,' said Mr Holmes, shaking an admonitory forefinger. 'You will sit there quietly till I havefinished what I have to say. Now, where was I? Ah, yes. How did the unfortunate hotel servant die? I think in all probability he was passing by this room, and, looking through the open door — that you had in your nervous haste forgotten to close — saw the counterpane on the bed somewhat disarranged. Another act of gross negligence on your part, I am afraid. Being a conscientious employee of this hotel, the man stepped into the room and, bending over the bed, proceeded to straighten the counterpane. That was when it happened, did it not? Well. We can never be sure now. But I think my reasoning is sufficientiy correct, at least to convince a jury. Do you not agree, Strickland?'
'Absolutely,' said Strickland grimly.
'Please! Please!' whispered the clerk hoarsely. The wretched man was now positively shaking with terror, and his large frenzied eyes gazed as if mesmerised at the brass elephant lamp burning above him.
'The elephant interests you?' said Mr Holmes, affecting to examine the lamp with a collector's curiosity. 'It is definitely of a very superior workmanship, Benaras brass, I should say; though this is the first time I have come across one with a lamp under the canopy. Very clever, if you think about it. Very clever indeed.' He managed to inject a hint of menace into his concluding words.
Galvanised by terror, the clerk leaped from the bed and collapsed before Mr Holmes. He clung to Holmes's legs and sobbed: 'I confess. I confess. The thing is in the lamp. It is a trap. Let me out of the room before ...'
Just then there was a sharp click from the lamp, and as we looked up a littie hatch swung openfrom the bottom of the elephant and a small, bright object fell on the bed. The clerk screamed with horror. The thing was red and shiny, no longer than six inches and about the thickness and shape of a piece of garden hose. It rose up, one end poised in the air, wiggling from side to side.
'What the deuce is it?' said Strickland.
'Devilry,' answered Holmes, reaching into his pocket.
Just then the thing stopped swaying, stiffened for a moment, then with remarkable speed, began to move towards us. Though the desk-clerk's terror was certainly most contagious, my scientific curiosity compelled me to observe the curious method by which the creature effected locomotion. The moment it dropped its upper end on the ground its rear end rose up and wiggled forward.
The upper end rose again and looped forwards with the rear end following immediately. The creature performed this operation with surprising speed and came rapidly towards us.
The clerk backed away in horror and tumbled backwards over my chair. Strickland and I, though certainly not as frightened as he was, recoiled slightly from the advancing creature, vaguely aware of the menace that lurked in it despite its insignificant size. Only Sherlock Holmes was absolutely unperturbed. He remained calmly seated in his chair, and, as the thing got near his legs, reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver salt-cellar, and bending over poured the contents over the creature. As soon as the salt touched its body it began to squirm and flick about violently, as if in tremendous agony.
'Why, it is a leech!' I exclaimed in surprise.
'But not your common or garden variety,' said Holmes gravely. 'This one is a Giant Red Leech1 of the Lower Himalayas, Hirudinea Himalayaca Giganticus, of the genus Haemadipsa. We must thank a kindly providence for restricting its existence to the small district of Kaladhungi in the