Young Sherlock Holmes_ Fire Storm - Andrew Lane [35]
The door, unusually, was closed. Sherlock knocked, feeling an unaccustomed premonition that something was badly wrong. His mind returned to the conversation he’d overheard in the market. He’d assumed the two Americans had wanted Mr Crowe’s help. Had he been wrong?
There was no answer from inside.
He knocked again. Still no answer.
He looked at Matty, who was standing beside him. Matty stared back, a frown on his face.
Sherlock pushed the door open.
The room inside was empty of any personal possessions. Not only were Amyus and Virginia Crowe not there, but there was no sign that they ever had been.
CHAPTER SIX
Shocked, Sherlock pushed the door fully open and entered the room. The size, the layout, the furniture – everything was familiar to him, but at the same time everything was different. The absence of the usual clutter made the room look much larger than he remembered.
The amount of bare wall disturbed him – he was used to seeing it covered with sketches and maps. The plaster was marked with pinholes where things had been fastened, which was reassuring because it meant that he was actually in the right cottage, not one the same size and shape just down the road that he had mistaken for Amyus Crowe’s residence.
‘They must’ve upped and left in a hurry,’ Matty said, following Sherlock inside.
‘Perhaps they left a note.’ Sherlock indicated the downstairs area. ‘You look down here – I’ll check upstairs.’
‘There’s nothing obvious here,’ Matty said. ‘If they’d left a note, they would have left it in plain sight.’
‘They might not have wanted it to be found by anyone who wandered in. Maybe they’ve hidden it.’
Matty looked at him critically. ‘You’re clutching at straws,’ he said. ‘Face it – they’ve just upped and left. Done it myself too many times to count. Someone’s after you for the rent so you do a midnight flit. Pull up roots and plant yourself somewhere new where nobody knows you from Adam.’ He frowned. ‘Wouldn’t ’ave figured Mr Crowe for a runner though. Whoever’s after ’im must be pretty fearsome for ’im to up sticks just like that.’
‘You’re forgetting those two Americans in the market,’ Sherlock pointed out. ‘They said they wanted to warn Mr Crowe about something.’
‘Maybe they was the ones he was runnin’ away from.’
‘But he wouldn’t have done that,’ Sherlock protested. ‘Not without telling us.’
Matty shrugged. ‘Maybe you thought they were better friends than they actually were,’ he said callously. ‘In my experience, stuff like friendship gets thrown away when times are tight and money is scarce.’
Sherlock just stared at him. ‘Do you really mean that?’
Matty wouldn’t meet his gaze. ‘It’s a hard world, Sherlock. You’ve always had it easy. Wait until you’re cold and hungry and poor – see how much friendship is worth then.’
‘You’re my friend.’ Sherlock felt as if the world he depended on was suddenly slipping away from him. ‘I’ll never forget that. I mean it – I’m not lying!’
‘I know you mean it, but your stomach is full and you’ve got money in your pocket. Tell me that again when you’ve lost it all.’ He shook his head. ‘Look, I’ll check for a note. Nobody will be happier than me if I find one.’
As Matty began to check in drawers and behind cushions Sherlock headed up the narrow wooden stairs, nearly bumping his head on the low ceiling. He felt sick, partly because of the disappearance of his friends but partly at Matty’s words. Was friendship really that disposable? Did Matty think Sherlock would just drop him if things got tough?
Would he?
He felt a shiver run through him, and he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. He had more important things to worry about right at the moment.
Upstairs was as unoccupied as downstairs. Amyus Crowe’s bed was neatly made, and his wardrobe was empty of clothes. The bathroom didn’t contain so much as a toothbrush or a hairbrush.
Sherlock stood in the doorway of Virginia’s room, shifting nervously from foot to foot. He’d never seen her bedroom before, and even though she was obviously not there, he felt as if he shouldn’t go in.