Young Sherlock Holmes_ Red Leech - Andrew Lane [0]
Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
PROLOGUE
James Hillager thought he was hallucinating when he first saw the giant leech.
The Borneo jungle was so hot and so humid that walking through it was like being in a Turkish bath. His clothes were sopping wet, and there was so much water vapour in the atmosphere that the sweat wasn’t even evaporating from his skin: it was just dripping from his fingers and his nose, or rolling down his body and collecting wherever his clothes touched his flesh. His boots were so filled with water that he could hear a squelching sound whenever he took a step. The leather was going to rot away within a few weeks if this kept up. He had never felt so miserable and uncomfortable in his life.
The heat was making his head swim, and it was that – and the fact that he was dehydrated and he hadn’t eaten properly for days – which made him think he was hallucinating. He’d been hearing voices in the trees around him for some time now: whispering voices that were talking about him and laughing at him. Part of his mind was telling him that it was just the sound of the wind in the leaves, but another part wanted to yell back at them and tell them to shut up. And then maybe shoot them if they didn’t obey.
He’d already seen animals that made his mind boggle. Maybe they were real; maybe they were hallucinations as well. He’d seen monkeys with huge, bulbous noses; frogs the size of his thumb that were bright orange, or red, or blue; a perfectly formed adult elephant no taller than his shoulder; and a pig-like animal with dark hair and a long, pointed, flexible snout. How many of them were real, and how many a product of his fevered brain?
Beside him, Will Gimson stopped and bent over, hands on his knees, taking deep gulps of the steamy air. ‘Got to stop for a minute,’ he said breathlessly. ‘Finding it hard to move.’
Hillager took the opportunity to mop his brow with a handkerchief that was probably wetter than his face. Maybe he was hallucinating because he was coming down with some kind of tropical fever. These Borneo forests were rife with strange diseases. He’d heard of men who’d been reported lost in the jungle wandering out after weeks missing, with the flesh of their faces covered in pustules, or literally sliding off the bone.
He looked around nervously. Even the trees seemed to mock him. Their trunks were twisted and gnarled, and smaller plants and vines grew out of them like parasites. They grew so close together than he couldn’t see the sky, and the only light that filtered down here was diffuse and shaded in green.
Despite the heat, he shivered. He wouldn’t be in this terrible place if he didn’t fear his employer even more.
‘Let’s call it a day,’ he urged. He really didn’t want to spend any more time in that jungle. He just wanted to get back to the port, load up the crated animals they’d already collected and get back to civilization. ‘It’s not here. We’ve already collected enough animals to make him happy. Leave this one behind. He won’t even notice.’
‘Oh, he’ll notice all right,’ Gimson said grimly. ‘If we only return with one critter, this is the one he wants.’
Hillager was about to argue the point when Gimson added: ‘Wait! I think I can see one!’
Hillager moved to join his colleague. The man was still bending over, but he was staring at the base of one of the trees.
‘Look,’ he said, and pointed.
Hillager followed the direction of Gimson’s pointed finger. There, in a pool of water between two tree roots, was what looked like a bright red clot