Sherlock Holmes 01: The Breath of God by Guy Adams Read Free Book Online Page A

entire body swayed. It was as if he were on the deck of a ship, nothing steady, nothing still. He put a hand out against the wall, trying to recover himself. Was it the smoke? he wondered. Could it disorientate a man so much? There was a low growl from behind him and he turned to see the stuffed bear straining its dust-filled limbs. Then a rattle as the dead snake twitched the dry bones in its tail. What was this?
    Ruthvney staggered across the room, his hands flailing ahead of him as they reached for the gun cabinet. The fire roared. The smoke continued to trickle past the mantel and creep up the wall, leaving thin, sooty trails in its wake.
    Ruthvney tugged the keys to the cabinet from his waistcoat ticket pocket where they hung from his watch chain. He unlocked the cabinet, removed the rifle and turned to face the far end of the room where his taxidermy was now quite still. What on earth was he thinking? Of course it was still, there was no life left in that menagerie.
    But there was still the matter of the strangers outside, the three men making their way towards the house. Unless they too had been a delusion?
    No! Ruthvney wouldn’t have it... He was not a man who imagined things, he was a man of facts, of solid truths. He walked back towards the French windows, rifle in hand, but made it only halfway across the room before a pain in his stomach doubled him over.
    What was happening to him? First he began seeing things then this... this... what? The pain was not like the indigestion that frequently troubled him, nor was it the equally familiar stab of trapped wind. No, this was something that he had experienced often enough but so powerful, so savagely heightened, that it took him a moment to recognise it. The pain was hunger . An aching, desperate need to fill his stomach.
    This was not the time! He forced his way on, determined to see off the strangers he had seen. He managed a few more feet before the pain struck him again, savage, undeniable...
    He stepped back a few paces, resting against his desk as his stomach churned and begged for food. He turned, barking short yaps of pain as he grabbed at anything that might quell this aching pain in his guts. He tore at the desk blotter, the rifle falling from his hands as he shoved chunks of thick paper into his mouth. For a brief moment the pain seemed to dip, softening as he felt the lumps of paper pass along his throat. Then it returned, just as pronounced as before, perhaps more so. He needed more, something of more substance...
    He looked around the room, tugging his cravat from his throat as he searched for something to satisfy him. He wedged the thin silk into a solid ball, popped it into his mouth and swallowed it. Again, that momentary relief only for the need to return even more pronounced.
    His eyes passed over the French windows, all thought of the strangers outside gone. All he felt was hunger.
    He ran to the far end of the room, moving among his display cases. These creatures would sustain him, he realised. They may no longer have the meat they once did, but there was still skin to be had, thick leather and cured pelt. He reached for the head of a young elk but the hooks held it fast and he was forced to stretch up on tiptoe, chewing at its dry snout, pulling off short strips of skin with his teeth, chewing and tearing more, his wet lips coated in dust.
    More! More!
    He turned to the display cabinets, smashing the glass with his fists and grabbing the heartiest specimens he could. He held the fox in his arms, chewing on its ear, raking its flanks with his nails desperate to pull some the skin loose.
    His teeth chipped and dislodged in his gums, not built for such sturdy work.
    Finally, he got the meat he craved, though the relief was short-lived as he choked violently on his own tongue.
    Breathless and delirious he fell to the floor, gazing purple-faced at the ceiling, his tongue lodging firmly at the back of his throat, wedged there alongside a dusty chunk of