Free THE IRREGULAR CASEBOOK OF SHERLOCK HOLMES by Ron Weighell Page B

struggle for survival which depended upon the ruthless wielding of deadly weapons. I say to you, Watson, that each of us stands hardly more than a hand’s span from nature red in tooth and claw. The real wonder is not that there was indeed a curse of Tarn Lodge, but that such things are not more common. There are depths in each of us, labyrinths wherein the beast still lurks.’
    Holmes paused to light his pipe, blew out the pungent smoke luxuriously, and smiled.
    ‘You have commented before upon my poor knowledge of literature, but this is a good example of what little help such things may be in my work. Even so great a poet as Lord Byron was a little misleading in two respects at least when he wrote:
“‘Some people have accused me of Misanthropy;
And yet I know no more than the mahogany
That forms this desk, of what they mean;
—Lykanthropy I comprehend, for without transformation
Men become wolves on any slight occasion.”’

 
 
     
    The Curse of Nectanebo
     
     
    ARRIVING AT BAKER STREET one bright, spring morning, I found Sherlock Holmes chuckling over the latest pearl of wisdom from Lestrade. It was a newspaper report of a case in the solution of which Holmes had played no small part. Lestrade had expressed the opinion that the successful conclusion was a triumph for steady, patient, routine work by the police, and served as a warning against the ‘modem, flashy element’ who tried to introduce newfangled methods. There could be, in Lestrade’s opinion, no substitute for the constable on the beat with his trusty truncheon.
    ‘A timely warning,’ laughed Holmes. ‘Let us never waste our energies in scientific analysis, minute examination of clues, and strict application of logic, when we can leave everything in the hands of a man with size fifteen boots and a wooden stick. However, let us turn to more interesting matters. Would you be so kind as to read this letter, Watson?’
“‘Dear Mr Sherlock Holmes,
“‘I know how busy you must be, but I need your assistance in a matter of great urgency.
“‘I am engaged in a study of Egyptian Hieroglyphics under the tutelage of Dr Edward Wallis, keeper of Egyptian Antiquities at the British Museum. In the course of my studies I have come upon a very vexing mystery that concerns one of the objects on display in the museum.
“‘Unfortunately, Dr Wallis is very busy preparing a forthcoming exhibition, and therefore cannot involve himself in this matter. All my instincts tell me that there is something very wrong, and that it should not be left until Dr Wallis has time to take the matter in hand. I have therefore taken the liberty of writing to you in the hope that you can meet me in the Egyptian Gallery of the British Museum tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, and investigate this problem.
“‘Yours sincerely,
“‘Miss D Edney”‘
     
    ‘What do you make of it, Watson?’
    ‘It is from a female employee of the British Museum who needs your help in a mystery concerning an ancient Egyptian object.’
    ‘Nothing more than that?’
    ‘What else is there to see?’
    ‘Well, you could have begun by saying that she is a middle-aged woman, who had a strict schooling; and is probably in line for promotion to a position of significance at the museum. She also, evidently, has a flair for the dramatic.
    ‘Her age can be deduced from the serious, calm tone in which she discusses a matter that is clearly very worrying to her. Similarly, we can see the strict schooling in the fact that her handwriting is perfect school copperplate; time has done nothing to erode, or elaborate, the style in which she was originally taught.
    ‘Note that she is under the tutelage of the Keeper of Antiquities, no less! Either she is being trained for some important post, or is engaged in work of value to the museum.’
    ‘And the flair for the dramatic?’
    ‘Come, Watson. She has requested a meeting at the museum, rather than visit us here, and has carefully avoided giving any