Sherlock Holmes House of Shadows: Sherlock Holmes

By John Pirillo

Every morning I get up, hoping and praying for the best. For me. My family. For the world.

I drive my taxi along the lonely streets of evening London, looking for just one more ride for the evening.

I have a family to feed.

A wife paralyzed from the waist down.

It's a hard life.

But one day I shall overcome our limitations. 

I will buy a brand new shiny Tesla car, the new electric ones created by Nikola Tesla and Thomas Edison. And on that day I shall retire my good horse to a pleasant pasture to live out the rest of his days in the sunlight.

Except, that didn't happen, did it.

I met the Shadow.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Pirillo
• Release date: Jan 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386625131

John Pirillo

The author was born in Washington, Pennsylvannia. He loves animals and birds. Has two pet cockatiels that keep him company while he writes. He has a lovely daughter and a rascally grandson. He is rich in friends that matter and well adjusted to a life of challenges. He writes and draws every day. He loves anything science fiction, fantasy or extremely well written. Same goes for movies and TV. Not married currently, but has an eye and ear open to possibilities. :)

Book preview

Sherlock Holmes

House of Shadows

John Pirillo

Copyright 2019

Table of Contents

A Shadow in the Night

Watson’s Journal

221B Baker Street

Crime Scene

Crime Scene Two

Crime Scene Three

The Cold Room

221B Baker Street

Alleyway

221B Baker Street

Baker Street

221B Baker Street

A Shadow in the Night

Ashadow in the night is impossible.

But there it was.

Plain as daylight to the naked eye.

Henry muttered worriedly to himself as he sat atop his taxi, praying for one last customer for the night.

He had a family to feed.

Five little munchkins that threatened to eat him and the Miss out of house and home if he didn’t keep bringing in the bread for them.

And now a shadow that moved on its own accord.

Too much!

He shivered.

His pants had holes in the knees, which he kept covered so that potential clients couldn’t see how destitute he was. But inevitably, he would have to move his hands. They would get too cold and he would shove them beneath his legs to warm them up, exposing his knee caps.

Some in London were making it fashionable to have holes in the knees of their pants, but he found it distressing. It just reminded him yet again of what he didn’t have enough of...money. The rich could afford to flaunt poverty, but they weren’t...poor.

His anger at life sluiced towards the Miss once more. Disabled by a disease that paralyzed her from the waist down. Her hands were so shaky she could barely do anything with them without great effort.

His heart ached at the thought of