Double Holmes 7: Double Holmes, #7

By John Pirillo

EIGHT EXCITING SHERLOCK HOLMES URBAN FANTASY MYSTERIES

 

1.A Case of Mistaken Identity -- a case of more than
two legs to deal with

 

2. Baffled and Bedazzled -- Same old story. Boy meets
girl. Boy falls in love with girl. Girl eats boy. Period.

 

3. A Matter of Taste -- Brotherly love that goes too far.

 

4. Case of the Missing Death -- Sometimes death rides the
same train as us.

 

5. Case of the Elegant Lady -- Maybe, she is not what
she seems.

 

6. Empire and Domain -- Twisted purposes lead to twisted
power.

 

7. The Case of Constable Evans Fancy -- Constable Evans
falls in love.

 

8.The Case of the Coughing Man -- Evil intent can be as
dark as sorcery.
 

Don't miss out on the latest Double Holmes and all the wonderful Urban Fantasy mysteries inside!

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Pirillo
• Release date: Aug 4, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223192138

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

CASE OF MISTAKEN IDENTITY

In the Shadows

Holmes flashed his light into the air above him, and Watson squirmed despite his familiarity with foreign and sometimes quite disgusting or disturbing visuals. High overhead in the murky shadows of the sewer tunnel that ran deep beneath London was a body, hung from the ceiling by what looked to be thin strips of rope by its wrists and ankles.

Truly dispiriting, Holmes.

Quite, Holmes replied.

This is the fifth one in as many minutes, Watson pointed out.

And a sixth soon thereafter, Holmes commented, flashing his light ahead about ten yards to reveal yet another body strung from the murky and mold filled ceiling of the sewer tunnel.

How long do you think they have been here, Watson?

I can’t be certain without an autopsy.

Rough guess.

Watson raised his own torch and studied the corpse overhead.

Male. Roughly five ten. Heavy frame, probably quite well muscled.

Which means he would have been hard to bring up there even with several men lifting, Holmes pointed out.

Undoubtedly, Watson replied.

The man was in poor health, however, judging by the extension of the left arm socket and the right. See how they are mismatched. The bone in the left is twice as large as the one on the right.

He moved his torch slightly, illuminating the face. And blind. Notice the iris is completely lost to white.

Yes.  A victim without a hope of seeing his death coming.

But blind people are notorious for having extensively better hearing than most, Watson pointed out.

True enough, except when what is approaching them makes no sound, Holmes replied thoughtfully.

He flashed his own torch at the floor and a pair of boots lay half buried in the muck and slime of the floor.

Holmes traipsed through the mire and stooped to pick up one of the boots. As he did something black leaped from it with a scream.

Holmes dropped the boot and the rat that had been inside landed beside the boot. It stood up on its back legs and scalded Holmes a moment, then slithered back into its boot.

Any other time, I’d find that quite amusing seeing the expression on your face, Holmes, but now, I rather fancy being back home, munching on dear Martha’s scones, than continuing to muck through this graveyard of refuse and bodies. It feels more like a nightmare than the real world at this moment.

I’m afraid we’ve got further to go, Watson.

You’re afraid? Watson laughed. I have long since passed the stage of fear into total and complete annoyance.

Holmes laughed, gave Watson a smile, and then he trudged ahead, sweeping his torch back and forth ahead of them.

Watson did the same, but more on the overhead ceiling. His eyes noticed a series of tunnels that opened up near the overhanging bodies. He had seen something in the shadows once, but hadn’t thought twice of it, but now he wasn’t so sure it wasn’t relevant.

Holmes, see here! He swept his torch to one of the tunnels.

Run off vent, Holmes explained. Yes, I’ve been noticing them for quite some time now.

He swept his torch light to inside the vent, illuminating its black throat a moment. As he did something large swept back from view, making a loud scuttling sound as it did so.

Watson grabbed for his weapon and aimed it at the vent.

Back Holmes!

Holmes dropped back beside Watson. I’m afraid we’re being watched.

Yes, but by what?

I suggest we reconsider our investigation and continue it another time when we’re better armed and with more companions to back us up, Holmes said in an almost whispered voice.

Watson was about to demand why, when he noticed that there were eight pair of eyes watching them from the vent, not only on the right side, but from the vent on the left as well.

Watson felt the hair on the back of his neck rise and began slowly backing up.

As a matter of fact, Watson, I’d suggest...

Run! Watson choked out.

They spun around and fled back the way they had come. No sooner had they gone ten yards when they heard the sound of two large things landing in muck behind them and making splashing sounds as they followed.

Don’t look back, Holmes warned.

Watson looked back.

Then he tripped.

He stumbled over and landed on his face in the muck and mire of the sewage there.

Holmes leaned beside him to give him a hand.

Watson rolled over and started to sit up, and then he saw what was heading for them on eight legs, standing about ten feet tall as it swept along the grimy floor of the sewer.

Two giant...

221B Baker Street

F or God’s sake, Holmes , must you be so right all the blasted time! Challenger roared, his face as red as his beard and hair.

Watson sat to the right of Holmes, the touch of a smirk on his lips as Holmes took Challenger’s king with his queen.

Check and mate, I’m afraid, Holmes stated.

You’re not afraid at all, Challenger said with disgust. He stood up and went to the window overlooking Baker Street. I should be, but I have such a big ego I keep believing one day my superiority will overrule my clumsiness and I shall prevail.

Watson snickered. Dream on, Professor. I’ve been playing this with him for years now every night pretty much and I’ve yet to win.

Challenger eyed Watson. That doesn’t surprise me, you’re friends. You wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings by winning.

Watson laughed. Oh, come now, Professor, you know better than that. Holmes would never let me win any more than I would him. He has by far the superior cunning and mind when it comes to strategic thinking.

Holmes set up the chessboard for a new game.

This conversation bores me, when will Ms. Hudson return, Watson?

Well, it doesn’t bore me, Challenger shot back. I haven’t won a dozen times in a row like a certain detective friend of mine has!

Holmes ignored Challenger’s complaint; he knew he was just blowing off steam. It had been a long and hard week for the lot of them.

And..., Challenger went on, ...Watson doesn’t know, he was too busy sleeping when she left to hear what she said.

Holmes eyed Watson. You were sleeping? In the afternoon?

Holmes, when do I ever have time to sleep, but the afternoon? Watson demanded.

He rubbed at his eyes, which were bloodshot. I don’t’ go to bed most times when I should because we’re out chasing one monster or another, and we get back when most people are rising to have breakfast. And in the evenings, it’s the same thing all over again. That only leaves the afternoon, he finished with satisfaction.

Challenger smiled. He’s right, Holmes. He’s like a clock. Noon strikes and he’s out like a flame doused by a bucket of water.

I most certainly am not! Watson complained. I climb into bed like any other normal male of my age, pull my covers up, say my prayers, and then shut my eyes, he explained.

Challenger smirked.

Can I help it if I don’t know when my sleep strikes me? Watson went on.

No, Watson, it’s the fact that you do prayers like a child, Challenger laughed.

Watson rose slightly, affronted by Challenger’s jest, but Holmes reached a hand across and patted Watson’s arm. Relax, Watson, he’s just pulling your leg.

Rather long reach to do that, Watson said with the hint of a smile, quickly letting go of his anger. He also knew Challenger was on edge as himself. After all, he and Conan had been helping on this new case as long as they had been working it.

Where’s Conan? Watson asked, suddenly aware he hadn’t spoken in awhile.

Holmes smiled. Sleeping like a baby.

Everyone looked over at the fireplace where Conan was snoozing, chin on his chest, arms folded over his lap, barely seated on the chair as he relaxed.

Challenger came back to the table and moved the right furthermost pawn vertically one space. Your move, Holmes. He smiled over at Conan. Lease someone is making good of this night.

Watson sighed, and then gazed longingly at the empty silver platter where a few scones had been before Challenger had arrived and eaten the whole of them before he had risen from his bed. Seeing the futility of that, he rose and went to the window.

The skies rather dark for this time of the day, he noted.

There’s a new factory that just opened up about a mile down the road, Watson, Holmes explained. I passed it this morning on my walk. It was built on the old Stanton properties."

Watson turned about, Challenger, wasn’t that the same man you challenged to a duel because he was experimenting on humans?

And snuffed his life, Challenger nodded. A better thing for this world was never done. He was cruel and a monster. Hundreds of children vanished from homes and orphanages before I caught up to him.

Watson looked at Holmes, who had looked up to study Challenger. You seem disturbed, Holmes, why?

Rumors, Holmes mentioned softly. He moved his own pawn one forward. And Professor, his real name was not Stanton, which was strictly a business name. His last name was Evans. Your move, Challenger.

What rumors? Challenger asked, studying the board. And his name was not Evans. I checked his birth certificate before I burned it! And what rumors? He asked again.

Missing children.

Well, there’ll be more than missing children in this city, if factories like that one down by the Thames keeps pouring out all that filth from its stacks, Watson uttered. I and Professor Langston have surmised from physical evidence of death now that over a hundred people have died from Lung Rot lately.

Lung rot? Challenger asked. What in God’s name is that?

It’s much like what causes many of the coal miners to die from the black death...coal dust in their lungs, which irritates the fiber of the body and causes it to self destruct.

Challenger groaned. Cancer! As if we hadn’t enough things to kill us with already, he growled angrily.

Watson heard laughter outside and went to the window to look out. Two children were playing skip rope at the alley way. They were two of the local children from across the street in the top flat there. Michael and Annette. Ten and Eleven. Very sweet and kindly children.

He sighed. It was getting late to have children. He sometimes wondered if he and Ms. Hudson were putting off their marriage too long.

Challenger looked up; his face solemn; suddenly remember what Holmes had stated earlier. Children? How many missing children?

Too many, Holmes replied angrily.

Watson turned from the window. You never spoke of this before, Holmes.

Because I didn’t want to disturb your peace, Watson, before... He shut up.

Watson came closer. Before what?

Knight to rook, Challenger stated.

Holmes looked at where Challenger had moved his rook and nodded. Good move, Challenger, brave.

How so?

Holmes smiled, A win for me in three moves or a loss for you in two.

Challenger barked with laughter and gently shoved the board away from the both of them. Watson, what say we go for a walk? I don’t care if the air is going to rot out our lungs eventually; at least it will help clear our minds a bit. All this inside business is driving me mad!

Holmes rose. I will go with you.

No, please Holmes, I know you must wait for the Inspector still.

Watson’s eyes widened. You never told me the Inspector was dropping by for a visit.

Holmes looked thoughtful a moment. Not a visit. A job.

Watson laughed lightly. See, just in time for us to lose our sleep once more.

Holmes smiled.

A scream came from outside. Then another.

The children! Watson uttered fearfully.

He spun about to look across the street. Just in time to see both children swept from their feet by something incredibly long and dark from the alley. One moment they were skipping rope and the next they were gone.

Alleyway

Holmes and Watson examined the pavement of the alley, with Challenger doing the same thing along the other end from them.

I don’t see any kind of footprints, Watson declared.

Or I, Holmes admitted with a sigh. It’s as if whatever had been here was no more.

Challenger hurried back to them.

I’m afraid I might have an idea what happened to them. To the children, he explained.

Yes?

Challenger pointed upwards. "I only saw it because I was looking back at the two of you, or I might have missed it.

Hanging against the wall high overhead was a narrow strip of what looked like rope. But sticky looking.

Most peculiar, Holmes commented, his eyebrows knitting together in thought.

Challenger, see if Ms. Hudson has a ladder in the back of her flat.

Watson stopped Challenger before he could leave. I know where it is hidden.

Hidden? Challenger asked in surprise.

Yes, she used to keep it on her back porch, but the local boys found it and used it as a way to break into the candy store down the block. So, she stopped leaving it in such an obvious place. And you know what a stickler for cleanliness she is.

Challenger nodded. Yes, that I do, he agreed, remembering the last time he made a mess and she tugged at his right ear rather hard when he refused to pick it up because he was a man.

Well, she had discouraged that notion from him rather abruptly...and painfully.

He smiled.

Do so, Watson, I’ll remain with Holmes to see if there’s more I can do.

Actually, you won’t, Professor,