Stone Cold (Young Sherlock Holmes)
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Following his last thrilling adventure Sherlock Holmes has been sent to live in Oxford to focus on his education. But something strange is happening in the university pathology labs. Body parts are being stolen from corpses and are being posted one by one to an address in London. What can these sinister goings-on mean, and what message is someone trying to send? In an attempt to find out, Sherlock follows the trail to a very sinister house deep in the countryside. Can he get to the bottom of another baffling mystery? Sherlock Holmes: think you know him? Think again.
settle down. My name is Mutchinson, that’s Mr Mutchinson, and I’m the Porter here at Christ College. It’s my duty and my privilege to check everyone in and out, to lock the gates at ten o’clock at night and not to open them until six o’clock next morning, and to patrol the walls of the college to spot any young gentleman who comes back late after an evening in the taverns and tries to climb over.’ ‘And I’m sure you do a wonderful job of it.’ ‘Mr Dodgson, you said.’ He consulted the clipboard.
and hands?’ he asked. ‘Mr Holmes, I have been impressed by your deductions before, but this is just amazing.’ Mycroft preened, like a large cat being stroked. Sherlock couldn’t help himself, and said, ‘He knows all that because he’s been having me followed and his agents have been giving him daily reports.’ Mycroft’s lips pursed in annoyance. ‘Is this true?’ Stone asked, disappointed. ‘Young Sherlock has a habit of getting into trouble,’ Mycroft grunted, ‘and in our father’s absence it is my
Although Sherlock was staring away from the camera, he saw in the corner of his eye Dodgson reach out and take a cap off the lens. ‘Now, don’t move for another five m-m-minutes.’ ‘What?’ he said through clenched teeth. He had to maintain this ridiculous pose for another five minutes? ‘It’s all to do with the amount of light that has to fall on the sensitized glass plate before an image will form. The Good Lord has blessed even the lowliest animal in his domain with eyes that can detect an image
own particular future. He had no great love for Farnham – it was a pleasant town, with pleasant people, but he had never considered it as anything more than a temporary waypoint in his life, a stopping station, like those places horse-drawn carriages used to break their journeys across country so that the passengers could eat a meal and sleep before continuing their travels. London, on the other hand, had captivated him during his short time there. The city was almost like a person – it had its
frame had come apart and clawed at him as he fell. He shivered. ‘No, I think it’s more likely that you were inside a building when it collapsed. That would explain everything I can see.’ Weston nodded slowly. ‘You are right. I was sent an anonymous message telling me that the people I was chasing were inside a particular house in a slum area. I made my way there and went inside.’ He hesitated, remembering. ‘They had rigged the place with sticks of explosive. They lit the fuses as soon as they