Young Sherlock Holmes_ Fire Storm - Andrew Lane [42]
They found Stone where Sherlock had expected him to be – in his lodgings, practising by himself up in the attic space. The two boys could hear him faintly from the street, playing what sounded like a wild dance. As they climbed the stairs the music got louder and louder, until they entered the attic where it seemed to fill the entire space, whirling and spinning with the lanky figure of Rufus Stone sawing madly with the bow in the centre. If he heard them enter then he gave no sign. Eyes closed, he pulled wilder and wilder notes from his instrument until, with a final flourish, he finished. The air appeared to quiver like a jelly for a split second before collapsing back to normal.
‘That’s a hell of a tune,’ Matty said approvingly.
‘Very kind,’ Stone said, turning and grinning at the two of them. ‘Although I have to say, it sounds even better played by the light of a campfire in the middle of a forest at midnight. The trouble is that the older I get, the more I find I prefer the comfort of a warm, dry house.’ He gazed from one boy to the other. ‘Something has happened, hasn’t it? Tell me.’
Between them, with Sherlock sketching in the facts and Matty filling the gaps with vivid descriptions, they told Rufus Stone the story. His face grew grimmer and grimmer as they spoke. When Sherlock finished by telling him exactly what the two of them planned to do, he stood for a moment, thinking.
‘You really both intend going to Edinburgh?’ he asked finally.
‘Yes,’ Sherlock answered.
‘And there’s nothing I can say to change your minds?’
‘No,’ Matty replied.
He sighed. ‘Then it’s a good thing I keep a bag packed and ready by the door. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to leave a place at a moment’s notice.’
‘The difference is,’ Sherlock said quietly, ‘that we’ll all be coming back. With two extra people.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
It was the next day before the three of them could set out for Edinburgh.
After talking Rufus Stone into accompanying them as a responsible adult – a task that was surprisingly easy, Sherlock thought, all things considered – Matty had headed off to make arrangements for Albert to be looked after while Sherlock rode back to Holmes Manor to talk to his aunt and uncle. As he expected, they were still dazed and distracted from Mrs Eglantine’s fall from grace, and the personal freedom they had suddenly gained as a result. He presented the trip to them as a fait accompli and, as he expected, they went along with it. After all, they had previously agreed to him travelling to America and Russia. Compared to that, Edinburgh was just down the road. Or up it.
Uncle Sherrinford did nearly throw the whole plan into chaos when he asked to be introduced to Rufus Stone. ‘I cannot,’ he proclaimed, ‘in all conscience, let my nephew travel to the far end of the country with a man I have never even met. I know nothing about him.’
Remembering Rufus Stone’s bohemian taste in clothes, his earring and his gold tooth, Sherlock suppressed a grimace of concern. If Uncle Sherrinford ever met Rufus Stone in person he would probably forbid Sherlock from ever associating with him again in Farnham, let alone travelling with him to Scotland. Sherlock had developed a lot of respect for his aunt and uncle – a respect that bordered on familial love – but they weren’t exactly the most understanding of people. Grasping at straws, he said, ‘If it helps, Mycroft has known Mr Stone for several years, and is currently employing him to be my violin tutor.’
‘Ah,’ Sherrinford said, nodding his head. ‘In that case, I waive my requirement. Your brother is a perspicacious man, and I trust his judgement when it comes to character.’ He peered sideways at his wife. ‘You know, I recall that Mycroft said that there was something wrong with Mrs Eglantine the first time he met her. Perhaps I should have told him what she was doing to us. He might have been able to help.’
‘What’s done is done,’ Anna said, patting his hand. ‘The Good Lord does not place a burden on our shoulders that is too heavy to carry, and each burden makes us stronger.’
Sherlock