First Collection E-Book

Francis London

• Herausgeber: via tolino media
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2023

Beschreibung

The Sudden Death of Cardinal Tosca: Cardinal Tosca meets his demise during a visit by the Pope in London. The investigations prove to be extremely delicate but are successfully and discreetly conducted by Holmes using his characteristic method. Based on the listing of cases in 'The Adventure of the Black Peter,' Francis London adds an exciting and atmospheric story to the official Sherlock Holmes canon by Arthur Conan Doyle, culminating in an amusing conclusion. The Paradol Chamber: Dr. Watson is initially pleased when it seems that the client visiting Sherlock Holmes at Baker Street might actually need a doctor. However, it becomes evident that the mysterious behavior in question might have criminal undertones. The two friends follow the trail with the help of the Baker Street Boys, and aided by the renowned veterinarian John Abadie, the detective eventually unravels the mystery. Count Negretto Sylvius: The narrative 'Count Negretto Sylvius' is a notable interpretation of the original Sherlock Holmes adventure 'The Mazarin Stone' by Francis London. Based on the original, Francis London narrates in this story how the stone was stolen. Carefully integrating the events at Baker Street as depicted in the original, he subtly alters the story, giving this tale an extraordinary charm and the typical Sherlock Holmes atmosphere. Ultimately, he salvages the reputation of Lord Cantlemere. 'The Mazarin Stone' has never been more delightful to read.

Leseprobe

Table of Content

The Sudden Death of Cardinal Tosca 3

The Paradol-Chamber 35

Count Negretto Sylvius 84

Time Line (Extraction) 146

Reading Sample: Around the World in 80 Days 149

In this memorable year '95 a curious and incongruous succession of cases had engaged his attention, ranging from his famous investigation of the sudden death of Cardinal Tosca -- an inquiry which was carried out by him at the express desire of His Holiness the Pope …

Sherlock Holmes, The Adventure of Black Peter

The Sudden Death of Cardinal Tosca

It is years ago that the astonishing incidents occurred which I want to report today, and even now I hesitate to mention them.

For a long time, it was impossible to publish the facts, even using extreme discretion and restraint. Now that relationships between the Catholic and the Anglican church have been deeply disturbed through the Pope's Apostolic Letter, "Apostolicae Curae", and its rebuttal by the Archbishop of Canterbury's liturgical history argumentation in "Saepius officio", the story can be told because things could not possibly get worse.

In all our cases, it happened again and again that Holmes was commissioned by the highest political circles. The gentry and even the military were looking for his support. Yet this case was different because the Church required his help, allowing Holmes, with his sensitive respect for the dignity of these institutions, to track down a case that required, how shall we say, an approach which offered Holmes an appropriate framework for applying his incomparable skill.

The Pope was in London in the spring of 1895. The papers were full of news about the Pope and his clerical representative in London, Cardinal Tosca.

I was resting in Holmes's sitting room. While he played his violin, I read with interest the news about these important meetings which excited all of London in those days, up to the highest political circles. In that phase of strained relations, these two most powerful churches on the globe were trying to reshape their relationship.

Holmes was far away from all politics that evening. He had caught himself in the realm of his violin, for he was excellent player and an enthusiastic musician. In those moments of his playing, he was cloaked in a perfect feeling of bliss. His enraptured dreamy eyes showed how much pleasure he felt in this poetic and contemplative mood..

We were interrupted - I in reading my newspaper, and Holmes in his playing of the violin - by the noise of a carriage that had stopped below on Baker Street, and by the impatient ringing of our doorbell. Then we heard hasty steps on the stairs. Slowly, Holmes returned to our world. His eyes regained their usual acuity, and his mind prepared him to pay attention to another great task.

Quite obviously, the man who stood before us now in our room was a high-ranking clergyman. He was a minister of the Catholic church, red in his face from the strains of his hurry, with a desperate expression.

Aimlessly he walked through our room, avoiding to come too close to either of us, as if he were unsure whether he should dare to do for what he had entered our home so boldly and disruptively.

"It is no longer necessary to invite you in," Holmes said while he calmly and carefully stowed away his violin in its case. "You have already taken that upon yourself. So please have a seat. I will be with you in a moment."

Holmes reached for his pipe, stuffed and lit it while he slowly turned to our guest. Thus reminded of the rules of courtesy, our guest stood there embarrassed and hesitant between the chairs in front of the fireplace. He seemed somewhat uncertain about his own behaviour, yet driven by the events which he wanted to relate.

"My name is Sherlock Holmes. This is my friend Dr. Watson. With whom do we have the pleasure?" Holmes tried to get the conversation going.

"You may address me as Cardinal Silvano. I have come to London from the Vatican as a representative of the Pope, with an entourage of negotiators. I speak in the Pope's name when I ask you for your help in a matter of extreme urgency and - please! - discretion."

I was still not used to the fact that Holmes's reputation all over Europe was so outstanding that there was no one of rank and name who didn't know that my friend Sherlock Holmes was the first call for help and support in the most delicate of all delicate cases. In these years after the death of Professor Moriarty, it was almost an exercise I might call regular, but I must say that I still had difficulty getting used to these new developments since my memories of Baker Street were connected with the homely bachelor flat where we had spent our time together.

Holmes understood there would be no hope for a quiet conversation. Our visitor was too excited. Holmes also stood still, studied our guest and asked: "Tell me, Cardinal Silvano, what bothers you. How can I be of help?"

"Here in London," Cardinal Silvano began, "the Catholic Church is represented by Cardinal Tosca. The Cardinal prepared our meetings with the Anglican Church, represented by the Archbishop of Canterbury. He is the most important man in our entourage, an outstanding authority on the local situation, honoured and respected by all partners to the negotiations, a man of the church of excellent reputation!"

Holmes was leaning against a bookcase, his arms folded across the chest, listening intently to the Cardinal's remarks. His nodding encouraged the Cardinal to continue.

"Today's talks finally resulted in a first convergence between the diverging positions of the Pope and those of the Archbishop. It is not an exaggeration to say that Cardinal Tosca's talent to respond to his partners in conversation, to move them and to make them appreciate the opposite view was a major contribution to our success."

"At the end of our talks today, the Cardinal left us to return to his residence. However, since the Pope saw a need for further talks, he sent me to ask the Cardinal to assist the Pope once again tonight."

"I called for our carriage and went to the Cardinal's residence. When we arrived, we drove into the courtyard, left the carriage and went to the front door. Since no one responded to our rapping, I tried to open the door. It was unlocked, and we found the way upstairs, to the Cardinal's parlour."

Cardinal Silvano stopped in telling his story.

"Do go on!" Holmes urged him. Holmes's face had long lost the soft expression of the gifted musician and violin virtuoso. His countenance reflected tension and brightness. He was an aroused hunter who eagerly followed a new scent.

"In that room, we found the butler of the house. He stood in front of a sofa, completely at a loss."

Holmes lowered his head. It seemed that he wanted to lip-read the Cardinal, watching closely as he formed every word..

"Sitting or actually lying on the sofa was Cardinal Tosca. Dead, obviously. The butler had only just found him. I immediately sounded the alarm, sending my companions to the street. They soon found a constable who called others. The courtyard and the house were secured. The search for the killer began."

"Killer? Do you have reason to believe that is was murder?"

Our client's embarrassment grew immensely. "Mr. Holmes, how can I express myself? The Vatican is one of the world's greatest centres of power. Influencing it ..."

He stopped in mid sentence.

"It is absolutely necessary to solve this case without leaving the slightest doubt and to come to a conclusion that allows us - with all discretion - to recognize any dangers so we can eliminate them. I want to emphasize that I had accompanied the Cardinal to his residence myself, just an hour earlier. He was a healthy, strong man. I cannot think of any other way in which he could have lost his life."

It was not long before we sat in the Papal carriage, driving through late-hour London to the Cardinal's residence. The streets were already empty, and we made quick progress. It was becoming quiet inside the houses; the city began to be sleepy. On Waterloo Bridge, we crossed the big river with its sluggish traffic of barges. Finally we reached Borough Road, the destination of our short ride.

Here, we encountered quite a different sight in the street! There were constables everywhere, searching houses, blocking entrance ways, checking pedestrians. As we arrived at the Cardinal's residence, we were stopped at the gate.

Even the Vatican coat of arms on the carriage, the stately horses, and the persuasive words by the coachman were unable to convince the constable at the gate. Only when Holmes left the carriage, his well-known appearance produced respect and admiration in the constable's face. He stepped aside and asked us to enter the courtyard. Holmes followed us on foot, deep in thought as he took in the yard and the building, prepared to see and absorb everything that could be of importance in this case.

We all left the carriage. Waiting to see what Holmes would do, we did not hurry directly into the house but stayed with the carriage. Holmes stood in the middle of the courtyard, assessing the property, his face in deep thought. The Cardinal's three-storey residence had a one-storey annex housing staff quarters and the utility rooms. To this, a stable had been added later. Stairs led up to the raised front entrance which resembled a portal. Since it was already dark, Holmes did not further examine the ground and entered the building together with us. The constable guarding the entrance door took us up one flight of stairs, to the Cardinal's parlour.

There were two people standing in the room. One was Inspector Lestrade, whom we knew from many other cases. The other was the butler. Lestrade approached us, surprised, but still happy to see us. We all shook hands.

"Holmes, how did you hear about this case?"

"This cardinal here asked us to come - on behalf of the Pope." Holmes pointed to Cardinal Silvano. "But Lestrade, is this really a case?"

"I'll gladly give you an opportunity to judge." Lestrade stood aside, allowing us to look at the room.

It was a spacious, well-furnished parlour with a large window front and two doors. We had just entered the room through one door; the other door was closed. One of the windows stood open. On the sofa, in half-recumbent position, we saw Cardinal Tosca or rather his remains.

Holmes approached the table on which stood an empty glass. Its rim had traces showing that someone had been drinking from it. Without touching it, Holmes smelled it and raised his eyes meaningfully. He carefully bent over to the Cardinal's face where he also inhaled. I found this behaviour of Holmes disconcerting, especially since the Cardinal had been such a highly respected person in life, but Holmes seemed to be quite satisfied with the result of this strange examination.

A constable entering the room interrupted Holmes in his concentration. The constable reported to Lestrade that the immediate neighbourhood had been searched, and no suspicious persons were found. Holmes wrinkled his brow; I couldn't tell whether it was due to the interruption or the message.

"What do you think, Holmes?" Lestrade asked. "Is there a reason for keeping my men here?"

"Especially in view of the fact that Cardinal Silvano asked for a discrete investigation, I don't see any reason to deprive your men of their well-earned rest any longer," Holmes answered quietly, thoughtfully letting his eyes wander over the dead Cardinal.

In view of this obvious criticism, Lestrade was a bit displeased: "Surely you will realize, Holmes, that as the inspector responsible for this case, it is not that easy for me to satisfy all wishes. After all, there are regulations, even though it seems you submit to them rather seldom."

"That is a privilege my profession is granting me," Holmes said with a smile.

Lestrade dismissed the constable, ordering him to discontinue the search and let his men go.

The somewhat lofty manner of Holmes has often led to minor disagreements with the investigating inspectors. Although Holmes never allowed these to escalate, he always insisted there would be no doubt that his methods differed from those of the police.

After the constables had left, the atmosphere in the house and in the yard of the residence calmed down considerably. Now, the quiet of the evening could extend to this place as well. Surely, Holmes appreciated that. He preferred it when his mind could develop without hindrance and in peace.

"Who entered the house this evening?" Holmes turned to the Butler.

"No one, Sir. Only the Cardinal himself after he returned early in the evening. And the staff. There have been no visitors."

Holmes nodded, contemplating. "So the killer must have found another way to enter than through the door and up the stairs?"

"I think he must have come through the open window," the Butler speculated.

"Certainly," Holmes said, "that seems obvious."

"Shall I bring the gentlemen some tea?" the Butler asked, remembering his actual calling.

I accepted the offer enthusiastically. I knew from experience it would take some time for Holmes to conclude his investigation. Although I always enjoyed watching Holmes at work, a good cup of tea would shorten the time most pleasantly.

As I had expected, Holmes now turned to the window. Just as the butler did, I also thought that was the obvious escape route for the killer. There, one would expect some traces leading to important clues. With his usual thoroughness, Holmes inspected the casing and the window's locking mechanism. In deep thought, he looked down into the courtyard for a long time.

"The closures of these windows are very easy to open, also from the outside," he remarked.

"We have examined the courtyard, Lestrade said. "There is all kinds of gear in the back of the outbuilding, including a ladder which might have been used."

"The courtyard is paved. The window sill is of stone. Unfortunately, we won't find any evidence there," Holmes said, responding to Lestrade's comments. He put his magnifying glass back in his pocket. For a moment, he looked out the window, pondering something.

"What do you think about the cause of death, Lestrade?, he turned to the Scotland Yard inspector.

"Poison, without a doubt. The bittersweet odour of almonds is on the glass as well as on the body. As soon as we are done here, we will remove the corpse and have it examined."

Holmes nodded in agreement, but contemplatively. "The cause of death is very obvious, every layman would think so."

"Where does this door go?" Holmes turned to Lestrade.

"This door goes to the Cardinal's bedroom."

Holmes took two or three steps toward the door to continue his investigation there, but he was interrupted by Lestrade's remark: "The door is locked."

Holmes stopped short and turned around in surprise. "Where is the key?"

"It hasn't been ascertained so far. The Butler says it is normally on the inside He has already been told to get the duplicate key. I assume it isn't essential. The Cardinal's death obviously occurred in this room."

Slowly, Holmes approached the door. He carefully looked at the carpet and the floor in front of it. Finally, he went down on his knees at the door, placed his eye over the keyhole to catch a glance at the inside of the room. I noticed how he startled and then turned his head to look over the parlour again. He took a deep breath.

I understood that Holmes tried to sort out the odours in the building, and I copied him. But from where I stood, I could not discern any smell of almonds. I was too far away from the glasses and the body. To me, there were no suspicious odours.

Hesitatingly, Holmes stood up and walked two or three steps away from the door, back toward the sofa, when finally the housekeeper appeared with tea on a tray.

This excellent woman had been in the Cardinal's service for a long time. Although she should have known that she would see the dead man in this room, the sight of him proved too much for her. She only managed a few steps inside the room, and when she saw the body, she gave an outcry and fainted. The silver tray with the cups and the teapot dropped to the floor, with a loud clattering of shards.

Poor Sherlock Holmes! His brilliant mind, the acuity of his intellect and his abilities to find solutions even in hopeless situations stood in marked contrast to his lack of empathy, especially for members of the opposite sex. While Lestrade and I hurried to help the woman, Holmes looked at the scene with strange fascination. He stood directly next to the housekeeper, but he did not bend down to her. He stood there with his head bowed, looking at the chaos of broken teacups, sugar and the tray as if he could find the solution of this murder case from all of it.

Only when Lestrade and I had lifted the poor woman into an arm chair, Holmes kneeled on the floor, playing with the silver tray. He inspected it closely and in deep thought, holding it still in his hand. Finally he dropped it and stood up impatiently.

I have been working with Holmes for many years. I know his expressions, his mimicry and his gestures. It was clear to me that he had found a special significance in this scene. Yet as much as I tried, I was unable to find a connection between the dead cardinal and the spilled tea.

Restlessly, Holmes shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Finally he turned impatiently to Lestrade: "Come on, leave this housekeeper alone! Nothing has happened, and surely Dr. Watson will devote himself to her. After all, that's his profession!"

I knew this kind of behaviour in Holmes. As a race horse impatiently paws the ground with its hoofs, Holmes was rearing to go. He knew what he wanted, but he had stumbled across something that prevented him from implementing what his brilliant mind had already established. Yet he remained silent with restraint and self-control. A maid came, alarmed by the noise of the fallen tray. She removed the shards and all the chaos caused by this incident.

Holmes sat in an arm chair across from the housekeeper, his elbows on the arm rests, his fingertips pressed together. With his eyes half closed, he gave the impression of a tight spring just waiting to be released and to snap open. What was it that made him so restless? I tried to unobtrusively observe the housekeeper. She recovered quickly. I had held a little bottle of smelling salt under her nose, and it had brought her back to consciousness.

Shortly after, the butler came back as well. He had not only made the housekeeper bring tea, but also looked for the duplicate key to the Cardinal's bedroom. At Lestrade's request, he put the key in the lock and turned it. The door opened into the parlour. He stepped aside, to let Lestrade enter who had already come close, showing great interest. We could look into the room. Obviously no one was there.

Holmes had also slowly stood up. The three of us went into the bedroom. Holmes let me go in before him, and he was the last to enter. I heard Holmes asking the butler to follow us into the room.

---ENDE DER LESEPROBE---