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Buku Sherlock Holmes–The Vanishing Man by Philip Purser-Hallard

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Sherlock Holmes–The Vanishing Man by Philip Purser-Hallard

Author:Philip Purser-Hallard

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Titan

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Sherlock Holmes–The Vanishing Man by Philip Purser-Hallard

I cannot of course be certain, but based on works from Mr Travis’s hand that I have seen in less discriminating galleries, I believe this to be the one. – S. H.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

One of the letters I had sent the previous night was to an old army colleague, asking if I might visit him during the day on a matter of some import.

 

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Sherlock Holmes–The Vanishing Man by Philip Purser-Hallard

Author:Philip Purser-Hallard , Date: June 20, 2019

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Author:Philip Purser-Hallard

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Titan
I cannot of course be certain, but based on works from Mr Travis’s hand that I have seen in less discriminating galleries, I believe this to be the one. – S. H.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

One of the letters I had sent the previous night was to an old army colleague, asking if I might visit him during the day on a matter of some import.

Holmes had decided, doubtless for the best of reasons, that it was imperative that Garforth’s monocle be found. As I could see that he and the Yard men would be engaged at the studio for some time, I excused myself as the morning drew on, and walked to the Anglo-Indian Club in St James’s for luncheon with this friend, Captain Arnold Mayhew.

I came upon him in the club’s lobby. ‘How excellent to see you, Watson!’ he cried. Some ten years my senior, Mayhew was a handsome grizzled fellow with a splendid handlebar moustache. Though these days he walked with a stick, I always found him as vivacious as he had ever been. ‘Come and have a drink before lunch, old chap. Our chef here does an excellent curry, for these climes at least – though I miss my Madrassi cook, Naveen, I can tell you. Don’t you remember his exquisite mulligatawny?’

He chattered affably away as I followed. While I had known Mayhew in Afghanistan, he had spent many years in service all over the Subcontinent, including a stint doing translation work for the Viceroy. He had been invalided home some two years previously, after catching a nasty injury in a skirmish with a particularly vicious gang of dacoits in Uttar Pradesh, and had been crafting his memoirs ever since; he had contacted me shortly after his return to seek advice on the practicalities of publishing. His recollection of the officers he had worked with was compendious, and while he was perfectly capable of keeping an official secret, in personal matters he was too talkative to be discreet. I suspected that his reminiscences, when finished, would prove unpublishable despite my best advice.

Over the meal, served with immense decorum by the club’s Indian servants, we chatted about the exploits of our various mutual acquaintances. After a while, I steered the conversation to the reason for my presence. I said, ‘I’ve run into an officer recently at Sir Newnham Speight’s, a Major Bradbury. I believe he’s been home for seven years or so. Did he cross your orbit out East at all?’

‘Bradbury,’ mused Mayhew. ‘Yes, I think I might know the chap. Isn’t his first name Cuthbert or Crispin or Chad or some such?’

‘I understand it’s Clement,’ I said.

‘Clement! I knew it was one of those saintly types. Yes, I recollect the fellow. Served under Moran, didn’t he? By Jove,’ he added excitably, ‘is this one of Holmes’s cases? Does he have Bradbury in his sights now?’

I said, ‘The Major isn’t under any criminal suspicion. But anything you can tell me about him would be helpful.’

‘Ah,’ said Mayhew. ‘Playing your cards close to your chest, old man.

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