Sherlock Holmes and the Boulevard Assassin by John Hall Read Free Book Online Page B

the wit to think of one. And yet he was not at all out of place in those squalid surroundings, or amongst those villains who – if they were taken at their own account – would have no compunction about committing murder! I remember that I thought that this man would have given the great Mesmer a run for his money.
    I listened, pretty well spellbound, for what seemed an eternity – I learned later it was no more than twenty minutes – to that soothing, so reasonable voice, when suddenly he broke off in mid-sentence, as there was the unmistakable sound of a police whistle being blown.
    I sat frozen to my chair, but Holmes was on his feet at once, and so too was the large man who had guarded the door. The large man moved towards the door, looking all the while at Holmes with naked suspicion in his eyes.
    Holmes gestured towards the speaker, who stood irresolute. ‘Quickly!’ said Holmes to the large man, ‘we must get our comrade away to safety, at all costs!’
    The large man paused a fraction of a second, then nodded briefly.
    ‘Keep the crowd away from the door,’ said Holmes, ‘and we shall attend to our comrade.’
    The large man moved away from the door, and into the room. ‘One moment, comrades!’ he told the crowd, which was now on its feet and inclined to be restive. ‘Everything will be taken care of. Quickly, comrade!’ he added, looking at the speaker, who had still not moved.
    Holmes opened the door, and glanced out. ‘Quick, for the love of heaven!’ said he.
    The speaker moved to the door, and Holmes led the way out on to the little landing. We crossed to the head of the stairs, and Holmes glanced down, then let out an oath which surprised even me.
    I looked over his shoulder, and saw Dubuque, of all men, halfway up the stairs with a dozen stout gendarmes hard on his heels! In some surprise, I turned to Holmes, but before I could say anything, Holmes had produced his revolver, and fired – once, twice, thrice, and then there was a click as the hammer fell on an empty cylinder.
    Dubuque and two of his fellows lay on the stairs, in grotesque attitudes. The rest of the gendarmes had fallen back slightly as Holmes fired, but when once they realized that he had no more ammunition they began to press upwards again, but were impeded by the three bodies.
    Holmes turned to us, a look of desperation on his face. ‘It is useless!’ he cried. ‘The stairs are blocked!’
    The erstwhile speaker did not hesitate. ‘This way!’ he told us, and pushed open one of the other doors which led off the landing.
    All this had happened quickly – much more quickly than it takes to write, or to read, my account – and I confess that I had not the slightest notion of what to do next. Left to my own devices, I should probably have stood at the head of the stairs until the police reached me, but Holmes grabbed my arm and fairly dragged me after him.
    I was aware of a confusion in the doorway of the room where the meeting had been held – it seemed for all the world as if the large man and Lefevre had both been trying to get through the door at the same time, and were now both stuck there – and then Holmes dragged me into another room, and threw the door shut. I heard a key being turned in the lock – it was now dark, and there was no lighting in this room – then a second door at the other end of the room was opened, and again Holmes pulled me to it, and through it.
    I heard the sound of a bolt being thrown in this second door, and then the man whom I still thought of as ‘the speaker’, for I had not the slightest inkling as to what his name might be, told us, ‘This way!’
    We followed him down a short passage, lit only by a grimy window, then into yet another room. This again had a window which our guide threw open. ‘Quickly!’ he said, and stepped outside. Holmes followed, then I climbed through the window and found myself on an iron balcony of sorts, from which a rusty stair led down to the street –