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

law.”
    â€œI have travelled under many identities, as you can see,” said Holmes, casually waving his hand across his person. “I conducted some of my old activities in Norway, whose criminal has still at least some imagination, and provided me with a few cases of interest. I have also visited Tibet, Persia and Mecca. There is much to be said for visiting such places, but I confess, I am scarcely possessed with any great desire to return to but a single one. I was conducting some research into coal-tar derivatives in a laboratory the other side of Montpellier, but discovered all I wished to know and have since taken residence in this establishment. It offers simple comforts and the privacy which I desire; I try not to conduct many investigations, for I do not wish to attract any unwanted attention.”
    â€œYet you became involved in my affairs. May I ask why you wished to aid that most deplorable of creatures?”
    â€œHaving taken an interest in your case, I began to observe your movements. It struck me as rather odd that letters from Monsieur de Saint-Hippolyte were being delivered to someone who I had previously believed to be a man. I therefore followed you upon your next outing, and discovered your design to sell the offending gentleman’s rather prized collection of valuables to one Charles Augustus Milverton. I concluded that you had duplicated the script of your admirer and were simply going to rob him of his inheritance. Had you opted for a different buyer, Miss Adler, I may not have involved myself with the case at all, but I could not allow the collection to be sold to such a fiend. He is the most despicable man in London. But now that I have heard of your disdain, I cannot help but wonder whether your motives were a little more unselfish, and infinitely more devious.”
    I had no desire to provide Holmes with the praise he was searching for, and so merely smiled noncommittally at his theory and rose from my chair.
    Over the next few months, I became rather well acquainted with Sherlock Holmes. Though we had to maintain our disguises in public, we removed our facial disguises when in the safety of his lodgings. It is a cruel twist of fate to be consistently flattered by the mundane, yet ignored by the extraordinary. Ever since our first brief encounter, I had been captivated by the great detective: yet only through my tales of triumph and frustration over Europe’s many authorities was I successful in eliciting from him a response of genuine merriment.
    â€œOh, how superb your talents are, Miss Adler,” he remarked as he paced up and down the small room. “You have an extraordinary gift for crime; not only do you succeed, but you leave the authorities infuriated and utterly perplexed. I have been telling Watson for years that the official force has many qualities, but their insistence upon routine, accompanied by their distinct lack of imagination, will be their downfall. How wonderfully you have proven my theory!”
    â€œI thank you, Mr Holmes,” I replied. “But I cannot help but ask; why is it that you spend your time with Dr Watson? He appears to me to be quite un-extraordinary.”
    I instantly regretted my remark for the first genuine flicker of irritation shot across Holmes’s expression, and he abruptly ceased pacing.
    â€œMy friend is, despite your misguided impressions, Miss Adler, a distinctly remarkable fellow,” said he, staring, as he so often did, into the distance. “I assume your conclusions come from his publications? But I can assure you that despite my numerous requests upon the matter, he modestly depicts himself in such a way for dramatic purposes; he seems to think the public respond more favourably to such a technique.”
    â€œI apologise, I should have realised that you would not befriend such a man if he was completely devoid of interest.”
    â€œNo need for apologies, Miss Adler,” said he, returning