Free Sherlock Holmes and the Missing Shakespeare by J.R. Rain, Chanel Smith

husband did. And in the case of Roger and Reginald, we have yet to confirm who their father was.”
     
    ***
     
    Before leaving my house that night, Sherlock told me another tale.
    Though he had made it sound as if the question of Roger and Reginald’s parentage was a question that was still up in the air, Holmes had made it his business while in Stratford-upon-Avon to find out everything that he could about the matter. As it had turned out, while I was spending the morning coming to my own conclusions in Llewelyn Kendricks’s office, Holmes had been busy about town with his research. Knowing full well that his abandoning me at the inn would prompt my immediate return to London, he spent the afternoon in the village procuring an invitation for himself to an opulent garden party which Reginald Galham was to be giving that weekend.
    That Saturday afternoon, he arrived impeccably dressed at the door of Harcourt Hall and acted as escort to Lady Jessica Flora of Harcourt and Avon. Since the theft of the manuscript, Holmes had felt indebted to Lady Jessica while at the same time being convinced she might be in danger from the thief.
    They went by carriage to Galham House and joined a multitude of aristocratic guests on the estate’s extravagant south lawn. The last days of summer provided perfect outdoor weather for Reginald’s guests and the boisterous group regaled themselves with lawn games, and excessive eating and drinking. By the time the sun had set, most of the party guests were rather intoxicated.
    One by one, the visitors went upstairs and changed for dinner at the sound of the evening gong before proceeding to the drawing room for more drinks and then going in for their meal. It was a sumptuous affair but also strategically sobering as well. Afterward, the men retired to Reginald’s game room and Kendricks was kind enough to remain close to Holmes so as not to isolate him from the crowd of affluent men in attendance. In my opinion, Holmes was rather capable of handling himself in any situation quite competently, but Kendricks provided him the perfect vehicle from which Holmes could conduct an in-depth observation of both his quarry and his surroundings.
    It was exactly the means by which Holmes was able to make note of five matching iron trunks stacked decoratively in a corner. They were identical in every way but their size; even down to the heavy lock centered on the front. Arranged to look like a metal pyramid, the largest on the bottom to the smallest at the top, they dominated that corner of the room. A lovely Asian rug had been partially draped over them for effect.
    “Rather peculiar these trunks you have over here, Lord Reginald. Rather peculiar, indeed,” Holmes said loud enough for their host to hear. As he expected, Reginald immediately made his way over to Holmes and Kendricks to boast a little.
    “Yes, aren’t they quite,” he started. “They, of course, belonged to my father. I can’t recall exactly but I believe he said he brought them back with him from some war or the other. Footlockers of his command. His attendants would carry his dinnerware and other such utensils around in them. As was expected, the original contents were returned to the War Office but he was allowed to keep the boxes.”
    “What a remarkable story!” Kendricks proclaimed.
    “If you say so,” Reginald concluded with a very bored look on his face.
    “Would you mind terribly if I took a closer look?” Sherlock had asked.
    “Oh, not at all, but I think they’re all locked and the keys have long since been misplaced. Hence, their present decorative nature.”
    Holmes nodded, as did Reginald before walking away to engage another man in conversation.
    Holmes instinctively touched the key that resided in his jacket pocket. He stepped closer to the stack of footlockers and inspected them a little more closely and began pondering how he would manage to gain access to the strongboxes. Kendricks strolled over to the