Sherlock Holmes and The Scarlet Thread of Murder (24 page)

The three of us proceeded towards the village. It was a much livelier community than that of Pendleton. As we walked up the road and into town, to my surprise, I felt someone's arm rest on my shoulder, and Miss Adler grunted as she was pushed forward.

“Make any sudden movements and the girl dies,” said an unknown man behind us.

I looked at Holmes, and he nodded. This was not a situation to be taken lightly. The man quickly herded us into a nearby empty building. All the windows were closed and the shutters pulled together, masking our visibility to the public outside. We turned to look at the man.

“Do you smell that, Watson?” said Holmes.

“Keep your damn English mouth shut!” said the man.

“I know you,” said Adler.

“As you should, little lady.”

“This is Dog,” she confirmed.

“But we left you in the dust back in Indiana!” said I.

“You took a slow train!” he said, grinning.

“Ah, I have it!” exclaimed Holmes. “Mr Dog, you are quite foolish to smoke tobacco with such a unique smell. Not only did you leave ashes behind in Norton's office when you killed him, the stench lingered inside Miss Adler's house when you and your gang ransacked it!”

“Ain't no one followed it back to me, yet.”

“It was but a matter of time. So tell me what was it you were looking for in Norton's house? A bank account, perhaps?”

Dog raised his gun and pointed at Holmes. “What do you know about that?”

“I have the information you want. I suppose when you approached Norton in his office and found him opening up his desk drawers, you didn't expect him to be unlocking a secret compartment inside the desk's top, which concealed his satin glove and journal containing valuable names and accounts.”

“Where is the journal?” yelled Dog.

“Hidden.”

“Boy, if you don't tell me where it is I will shoot someone!” Dog rapidly approached us. Holmes was silent for a moment as the two of them locked eyes.

“Vatican Cameo...” said Holmes coolie.

I reached for Dog's arm, which held the gun, and forced it towards the ceiling. Dog let out a grunt. Holmes, swift as ever, swept Dog's feet out form under him. He fell with a terrific thud to the floor. Holmes pinned him down with his knee firmly pressed in the man's stomach.

“Tell me where we can find Pemberton,” demanded Holmes. Dog lay there, coughing. Holmes pressed his knee in a little harder.

“Ugh! The Castle! You can find him there!” Dog coughed again and winced from the pain. “You can find him in the Castle.”

“Where is this Castle?”

“Up... Up the hill overlookin' the lake. Three... err... fourteen miles up the mountain road!”

Holmes removed his knee and forced the man to his feet. “Cuffs, Watson!“

I dug inside Holmes's bag, and found a pair that he clasped upon Dog's dirty wrists.

“Step away, Mr Holmes,” said Miss Adler who was holding Dog's gun.

“Shoot me! Shoot me, bitch!” roared Dog.

“Did you threaten my husband?” she asked.

“Piss off!” he retorted.

“Was it you who threatened him?” yelled Miss Adler. He did not respond. Anger burned in her. She struck Dog's face.

“You kill my husband, you chained me up like an animal, and nearly killed me!”

“It was all just a bit of fun, little lady!”

“So is this!” She fired the gun, shooting Dog near the groin. He fell to the floor, screaming in pain as blood spilt out onto the floor.

“Please... please...” gasped Dog whimpering.

“Don't kill you?” finished Miss Adler. Dog nodded furiously. “I wouldn't give you the satisfaction of a quick death, not such an easy way out for you. I want you to feel a tiny fraction of the pain you caused me before you hang.” She took the butt of her gun and struck a heavy blow upon Dog's head, rendering him unconscious.

She turned, and looked at both Holmes and I. “Come on, gentlemen, let's go to the castle.”

What Happened to Irene Adler

We followed Miss Adler out into the street.

“We need some horses,” she stated.

At a tavern up the road there stood several horses tied to a trough. We three pushed through the tavern doors into a room full of scruffy-looking, large, bearded men. Miss Adler pulled her hat down a little low to hide her face, for even in men's clothing and her hair hidden, her face was quite recognisable as that of an attractive woman. As we approached the bar, the lanky man behind the counter asked us what we would like.

“Three whiskies,” said Holmes, taking a seat upon a stool. We followed suit and waited for our drinks.

“Here ya are,” said the bartender, setting three glasses before us.

“Tell me,” said Holmes, continuing in his American accent, “do'ya know anyone willin' to part with a couple of horses either on loan or permanently?”

The bartender gave us a queer look.

“Anyone in here willing to part with their horse, come talk to the gentlemen here at the counter!” he shouted. “‘Bout the best I can do for ya.”

I could hear the sounds of spurred boots walking towards us from behind. We turned to see two men. One was tall with a long face and a crooked nose. The other man was heavily bearded with a lanky frame.

“What you boys looking to do?” asked the bearded man.

“We need three horses to carry us a fair distance and back,” said Holmes.

“Where to?” the crooked-nosed man pressed.

“Our business is our own. I'd be willing to loan the horse, or buy outright if need be.”

“I can't find you three but, I'll loan you my horse for five hundred dollars and a five hundred dollar deposit in case you never bring him back,” said the bearded man.

“I'll do the same,” the crooked nosed man agreed. Holmes reached into his pocket and withdrew Miss Adler's emerald. The two men gazed greedily upon the stone.

“This stone is easily worth 10,000 dollars. I'll give you this for the horses. When we are done, we will return them, and the stone will remain in your possession as a payment and thank you for your service,” Holmes offered. The realisation that Holmes did not accept Miss Adler's payment, but still came anyway, fell upon her face as he held the stone out. She bit her lip as the two dirty cowboys licked their own in marvel of the stone.

“Holmes...” whispered Miss Adler, but he did not turn to look at her.

“Shoot, keep the horses, we agree!” they said with big smiles upon their faces.

“Take us to the horses,” Holmes replied.

The two cowboys could not have been happier to part with their beasts. Holmes and Adler, who shared a horse, and I, on my own, continued on with what felt like the final leg of our journey.

We carried on through town until we found ourselves booking a room in a local inn called The Grand Inn. It was a fair sized establishment with a lounge and parlour. We had two adjacent rooms, which opened into one another by a door. I was pleased to be released from the burden of my luggage, as was Miss Adler. Holmes, as always, displayed no such sign of slowing down.

“If you both will excuse me, I should leave you for a short while. I suggest getting as much rest as possible,” said Holmes, exiting with Norton's journal in hand. Miss Adler called after him, but when she looked down the hall, he was already gone.

“We should take his advice. The train journey has severely depleted my energy. I would like a good kip,” said I.

“How can we just sit and rest, Doctor? I want to get Pemberton!”

“Miss Adler, you know better than this. You never charge in. Holmes will return with information that will be of some use to us and our future plan.” She nodded and gave a half smile. “Get some rest.”

“I will try.” She turned to close the door but stopped.

“He didn't use the emerald,” she acknowledged.

“He did not.”

“Why? It was nothing for me to leave that behind. It was gift from the Bohemian King. For me, it was nothing to part with.”

“Perhaps for Holmes, it was,” I admitted.

“He kept my picture?”

I nodded.

“Will we ever know what really goes on inside that beautiful mind of his?” she asked.

“Like I told you, he admires you unlike anyone I've seen.”

She smiled, her cheeks turned a shade of red. She closed the door and I heard her collapse onto the bed. I cracked the bedroom window open to let the mountain air invade. I lay down upon my bed and drifted into a peaceful rest.

***

I woke sometime later to the feeling of pain in my arm from my gunshot wound. While I cradled the wound I saw the sun setting and just tipping the top of the rolling hills. I turned and saw Holmes sitting stooped on his bed looking at some papers.

“Four hours,” said Holmes.

“Excuse me?”

“You have been asleep four hours. The woman, I believe, still is.”

“What have you been doing all this time, other than timing my sleep?”

“I found the bank,” he said, looking over at me.

“The one connected to the detail in Norton's journal?”

“The very one.”

“What have you learnt?” I pressed eagerly.

“Firstly, I discovered that Maxwell Pemberton is heir to what is the Pemberton Estate. His grandfather and father were both gold miners. They built themselves ‘the Castle' and invested their gold into the railroad. From there they built what is now the Pemberton Rail Co., which is now run by Maxwell. The company itself has an office here in Carson City. I went into the office to see what I could learn, taking the gamble that our identities had not been exposed by Dog. I resumed my identity as Altamont Jones and said that I was looking into the work that Godfrey Norton did for the company. A rather shy and nervous manager gave me everything I needed. He handed me the documents that Norton had worked on. They themselves were not incriminating as they merely contained legal jargon regarding the purchases of a rail-line from New York City towards Florida. What I found interesting was a name: Stanley's Capital and Loan. It is a small bank here. It is oddly small, though. For a large company like Pemberton Rail to use them made me curious. I left Pemberton Rail and ventured to the bank where I presented the account number found in Norton's journal. I was shown into a private room and a lockbox was handed to me. Here is what was inside.” He pointed to the pile of papers on his bed. I proceeded to look at them.

“These look like bank transfers,” said I.

“Indeed they are. Pemberton was siphoning money and dropping it into various people's pockets. All of the accounts belong to a number of political, business, and local lawmen who are established in and around the San Francisco bay area.”

“I don't follow, Holmes.”

“This is the hook that binds them all together,” said he, holding up another piece of paper. “Each of the people he pays off has something to do with local shipments coming from the orient.”

“Opium!”

“Exactly! He's paid these men off in order to continue his delivery of the opium that he then sends to his hot spots all around the country. For example, The Society!”

“So Norton hid these papers, Pemberton discovered them, and had him killed?”

“I would think that is not too far off the bull's-eye, my dear Watson.”

“We should take these papers to the local authorities. We can expose Pemberton; that's the case closed!”

“We are close indeed. I'd like to tell the woman what I found before we carry on.” He rose and stretched before proceeding to the door which connected our room with Miss Adler's. He knocked gently but received no response. I walked over as he rapped on the door. When there was again no response, he barged through.

“She's gone!” I cried.

There sitting on her bed was a knife pierced through the sheets, keeping a slip of paper in place. Holmes raced over and withdrew it, reading the note aloud:

You have the information I want
. Bring it to The Castle at midnight. Should you attempt to involve the authorities, the woman dies. You are watched.

Maxwell.

I felt an immense feeling of guilt fall over me. She was taken from right under my nose. How could I have not heard this with but with a thin wall between us!

“Watson, this is not your fault.”

“How can you say that? I should have stayed alert!”

“Do not think that she was kidnapped, Watson. She went willingly.”

“How do you know this?”

“There are no signs of a struggle. What I see is that a man stood here, over her bed and another in the door between our rooms. There was a threat, probably on your life, so she went with them peacefully. See, there are two sets of dusty footprints. One here by the connecting door and the other by her bed.”

“That doesn't help my guilt!”

“She knew what she was doing. Now come.”

Holmes devised a plan to disguise us and sneak out of the inn before the sun had completely vanished. With some quick rearranging of clothes, I dressed in his long frock coat and he took my jacket. He gave me his Stetson, and he himself went hatless. He did, however, use some cosmetics to manipulate his face. I was not entirely sold that this would pass, but I kept faith in my friend. To our surprise, we exited the inn and prepared our horses with ease. Whoever was watching our movements, if that statement in Maxwell's letter was true, had seemed to miss us.

***

We followed a rough dirt road a few miles out of Carson City, which took us up a steady incline. When we reached the top of this hill, he and I paused momentarily, and I marvelled at the beauty. The sky was aglow with red and orange as the sun set. The large vivid green and brown hills dipped and rose across the vast landscape, and filled me with awe and wonder at the beauty that the world beheld. The road in front of us took a slight decline, but further off into the distance we could see the majestic hills that surround the giant lake called Tahoe. It was a pity to think that our sole reason for being here was simply to catch a vile criminal, and now rescue our friend. I turned and, looking behind, saw Carson City down in the valley. It flickered with lights as darkness descended. Holmes urged that we should keep moving.