The Last Confession of Sherlock Holmes by Kieran Lyne Read Free Book Online

now, I shall merely say that it would not have required setting fire to Monsieur de Saint-Hippolyte’s house, as I did to your lodgings so many years ago, to discover the location of your evening’s endeavours.”
    Such was the state of my agitation that I almost entirely ignored my abductor’s final remark, the repercussions of which caused me to almost faint with shock. The absurdity was almost too much to comprehend; having spent so many years longing for such a terrible truth to be false, here I was almost three years after his death, being kidnapped by Sherlock Holmes.
    I remained in a condition of nervous exhilaration until we finally reached our destination.
    â€œWe must get you inside straightaway, Miss Adler,” said the voice. “Do not hesitate; it is now most dangerous for you to be recognised in public.”
    Following Holmes’s orders, as soon as my carriage was unbolted I followed him swiftly into a small rustic dwelling, doing my utmost to conceal my features. Holmes slammed the door and swooped around the room, plummeting us into near total darkness. I heard the soft scrape of a match as the dishevelled qualities of his disguise flickered into view.
    â€œI must leave you, Miss Adler. Disguise yourself using whatever attire you deem most fitting, and for the life of you, do not answer this door to anyone other than myself.”
    Without so much as a smile or hint of recognisable pleasure, Sherlock Holmes disappeared back into the night, as if he had materialised out of those dreadful mists of Reichenbach for only a second to save me from what appeared to have been imminent disaster.
    I awaited his return. The room was rather small, with a fireplace suitable for only a few logs, situated between two doors, which led to separate bedrooms. Before the fire were two unstable looking chairs, and a misshapen table, upon which was a great mass of press cuttings from across Europe, but mainly those which focused upon England or France. With little else to occupy my time, I took a seat by the unlit fire and began to muse as to how the evening’s events could have possibly taken such a bizarre turn. It appeared however, that I had been clearly affected by the excitement of recent events, for the sharpness of my thoughts merely reflected the feeble glow of my candle. I continued in this daze for some time, my eyes transfixed upon the slow descent of wax as it slipped silently toward the holder. Mercifully, I was eventually rescued from my limbo by the unmistakable grind of lock and key.
    â€œI must congratulate you, Mr Holmes,” I said, approaching him as he entered the room, stopping only inches before him. “I have never suffered the embarrassment of being caught off guard, even by you. Still, you have had many years practice since our last encounter, and I was at the distinct disadvantage in believing you to be dead, which is hardly fair. I assume you were to take me to the authorities? It was awfully kind of you to bring me here instead.”
    â€œI have been engaged on several cases,” said he, walking into the centre of the room in a rather unconvincing attempt to hide his discomfort. “So I admit to not giving yours my full attention. However, after I heard some rather curious murmurings, I investigated and discovered your designs for Monsieur de Saint-Hippolyte’s inheritance, and acted accordingly. My original plan was to simply lock you in your carriage and drive you to the estate; where, as you correctly deduced, the authorities were waiting for you. It was not until I laid eyes upon you this very evening that I realised just whom I had been dealing with, and forcing me into rather abrupt evasive action.”
    â€œAs brilliant in death as you were in life, Mr Holmes,” I said, walking past and taking a seat.
    â€œQuite,” said he, perching upon the chair opposite. “But, so we do not have to retrace this ground later on, I am dead. That