Sherlock Holmes in Something the Cat Dragged In by Lyn McConchie Read Free Book Online Page B

check this room.”
    We had completed our search by the time our friend was back, red-faced and muttering. “He’s got clean away. Oh, he was seen, all of them can give a description too; he was a tall, short, fat, thin man. He was wearing a tweed suit, overalls, and dressed fit for a wedding. He’s got blue, brown eyes, a hawk, snub nose, brown, black, blond hair, and he was carrying a cane, a bucket and mop, a stepladder, a briefcase, three watermelons, and a bunch of b----- roses.”
    I patted his shoulder wordlessly. How typical of the public: they see but they do not observe, to coin a phrase.
    We left the body to be removed to the morgue, and repaired by cab to Lestrade’s office for a restorative cup of tea—in his case—and a whisky and soda in ours.
    One of the constables came galloping in. “Sir, there’s a man asking for you.”
    I will pass over much of that conversation. The man was one of Northgate’s older relatives. He seemed to think that Lestrade should have found his relation by now, and that he can’t have been trying. Why, it had been days now, and if he couldn’t do the job perhaps he should ask the Commissioner to find an officer who could, and, eyeing us with deep suspicion, who were these strangers hanging about? Did Lestrade have nothing to do but socialize? And on and on. Lestrade listened without complaint and passed us an envelope, all the while nodding his head to the points made.
    Holmes caught my look and we left in silence. Once out in the street I expressed my feelings. “I wouldn’t be a police officer for double their pay,” I said angrily. “Does he think they do nothing?”
    â€œYes,” Holmes said simply. “To any person, their case is the most important, and if it is not immediately solved, it is because of the officer’s incompetence, not because it is difficult, or the perpetrator is clever, or the crime was random. Much is expected of the police for their small wages. But before Mr. Ivanhoe shot Brand, we received useful information.”
    â€œDo you think that Ivanhoe is Russian?” I questioned. “Ivan is a common name there, I believe, and that fact could have influenced him.”
    â€œThat is true, but I think he took the name from the book as a jab at us and our English ideas of honor and chivalry, rather than any reflection of his own country. No, Watson, I think it more likely that he is an agent of another country entirely.” Here he mentioned the name and I nodded agreement.
    â€œVery likely. But what makes you think so?”
    Holmes glanced quickly around us. No one stood close enough to hear, but he lowered his voice nonetheless. “I believe that, poor though Brand’s description was, both Lestrade and I have some idea of who this man may be. Maximillian Liebowitcz comes of a good continental family, but nowadays he specializes in procuring and selling weapons for smaller countries that have a sudden need. He is an agent for his country, but does such trade on the side and would know where to go with such an interesting tale. Who better than someone like that to be in a position to hear of Lord Northgate’s hobby?”
    That made sense to me, but I voiced my second thought. “Would such a man have the ear of someone who’d pay well for what is only, after all, a mere game?”
    â€œYou forget, Watson. It is a game to Northgate and his friends, and to those of us who know that is it their hobby. But if it were offered as genuine plans for a sneak attack on a sovereign nation by Perfidious Albion, then that nation might indeed pay well, very well indeed. The papers list names, dates, even times and actions down to a minute level. I saw the small portion of them recovered from Siddons’s place. They are appallingly convincing if they were to be sold in that light.”
    A frisson of horror crept up my spine. “Then you do think they could