The Sherlock Holmes Megapack: 25 Modern Tales by Masters: 25 Modern Tales by Masters by Mike Resnick, Michael Kurland Read Free Book Online Page B

to request your opinion before venturing forth.”
    “Very sensible,” I replied. My examination was of necessity superficial, and when I had finished, I released her wrist with a smile. “You are a remarkable woman.”
    She laughed. “You forgot to add ‘for my age,’ Doctor.”
    “For a woman of any age,” I asserted and helped her to rise.
    Although her step was firm and her carriage erect, she leaned heavily upon me as we slowly walked down the corridor, followed closely by Denbeigh and Sheppington.
    We gained the receiving room, where Holmes, no longer carrying the cloak, stood deep in conference with Jones. Carolus listened at a respectful distance.
    “A moment, Doctor,” she said, releasing my arm. “Mr Holmes, I believe you have made progress in your investigation?”
    “I have indeed,” said Holmes. “If you will permit me to detain you for a few minutes, I would like to demonstrate how the attack upon you and the count, as well as the theft of the emeralds, occurred.”
    I glared at Holmes and turned to my patient. “Your Grace, I believe this is most unwise!”
    My exclamation was lost amidst the chorus of voices evincing surprise and disbelief at Holmes’s request, which continued until Her Grace nodded once.
    “Very well, Mr Holmes.” She quelled Denbeigh’s vehement objections with a glance.
    Jones entered the drawing room first, while a constable remained stationed by the door. Holmes quickly ushered in Her Grace, Denbeigh, and Sheppington, followed by Carolus. When Jones questioned the latter’s appearance, Holmes raised his hand.
    “In the absence of Count von Kratzov,” Holmes said, “I have requested that his private secretary attend us, so that he may correct any errors I might make regarding the details of the display.”
    “Get on with it, Mr Holmes,” Jones grumbled.
    I have always maintained that Holmes, despite his protestations to the contrary, is a consummate showman. To set the stage, he lowered the light until the room was cloaked in shadows. Then he positioned Her Grace in the centre of the room by the overturned table and asked Carolus to take the count’s place opposite her.
    “Play-acting!” muttered Jones, but he did not object further.
    “Upon your entry into the room, your attention was immediately caught by the sight of those magnificent emeralds,” Holmes said, addressing Her Grace. “As you admired them, the count stood by your side. His remarks became more personal and intrusive. When he pressed close, becoming increasingly familiar, you struck out at him and withdrew to the window.”
    The colour drained from her face, and I hurried to her side. She waved me away.
    “Continue,” she said, her voice firm.
    Holmes lifted one brow. “Before he could pursue you, the lights were extinguished and there was a sudden commotion: the sounds of a struggle and breaking glass, the grunts of the combatants. In the faint illumination from the window, you watched as indistinct shapes wreaked havoc in the room.”
    Her hand crept to her throat and she nodded, her eyes dark with the memory.
    “I recall it all now,” she whispered. “A man stumbled toward me. It was the count, his face streaming with blood, his hands reaching…” She shuddered. “He struck me on the temple, a blow that sent me reeling. I fended him off, and he moved away with a cry, but my head swam and I staggered, grasping at the curtains for support.” She looked at Holmes, her brows drawn together in bewilderment. “I do not remember more.”
    “That is hardly surprising,” I said, stepping to her side. “Holmes, I really—”
    “No, Doctor,” she interrupted. Her voice trembled. “I must know what happened. Mr Holmes, can you tell me who attacked the count, and how did he enter and leave a locked room?”
    “Certainly, Your Grace.” By some trick of the light, Holmes’s eyes shone like a cat’s. “I shall answer the latter first.” He strode to the far wall and ran his long