Free The Problem of Threadneedle Street (The Assassination of Sherlock Holmes Book 2) by Craig Janacek

down?” I asked.
    “No, my dear fellow, you will go down. This may be some trivial problem, and I cannot excuse myself from the center of London for the sake of it. Your natural acumen should be more than a match for this snowy afternoon. Leave no stone unturned.”
    §
    The pale sunlight of that late fall day was fading by the time Lestrade and I arrived at that site where the greatest of the English Charters had come into being, and where later Henry romanced Anne under a Yew Tree. After the previous night’s storm, the weather had turned somewhat for the calmer, though the temperature remained low with an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge to a man's energy. The dark blue sky was flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting across from west to east. Lestrade led me to the play where the man’s body still sprawled, a pair of constables stationed nearby to ward off any accidental intruders upon the scene.
    I at once went very carefully round it to observe if there were any traces in the snow which might help me, as they had once helped Holmes prevent a great scandal. Fortunately the cold day had served to harden the crust of frost. Unlike the subtle impressions left on trampled grass or wet dirt, which often required careful examination with a lens, my reading of what had transpired on that sloping hillside was a simple one. There was a double line of tracks of a booted man, which could only belong to the groundskeeper Mr. Black. He had advanced towards the body at a run, but his return was more slow and careful. I noted that three additional prints approached the area, presumably belonging to the local constable, the medical examiner, and Lestrade himself. The local man had outdone himself, for he had carefully laid down a long piece of matting and stood upon it while looking at the body such that these new prints would not contaminate the scene.
    Turning my attention to that of the body, this proved to belong to a middle-aged man, about forty by his looks. He was laying full length on top of the snow. The back of his head appeared to have been caved in by a ferocious blow. His shirt had a well-cut look to it, though the cuffs were heavily stained with some dark substance. Pushing them up, I noted that his hands were heavily calloused and his fleshy left forearm was dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture marks. There was no sign of any bullet holes. Utilizing my training in such matters, I independently verified from the extreme rigor of his muscles that the examiner’s estimate of time of death was accurate. This confirmed that the man’s demise must have transpired after the snow had begun falling.
    A minute examination of the scene served only to make the case more complex. Immediately about him, the snow was somewhat tumbled, but everywhere else it was still smooth. I cast my eye about for any horse or vehicle which could have brought the body to that spot, but nothing of the kind was to be seen. I could confirm that Lestrade was not mistaken. There were no other prints in the snow. Either the man had died of natural causes, taken his own life, or Mr. Black himself had killed the man for reasons unknown. But the blow upon the back of his head ruled out the former two possibilities. And furthermore, how had the man come to the site of his death? There were no signs of wheels, or a horse, or of any other man, save the tracks that I had already mentioned. How did the stranger find himself there, more than a quarter of a mile from a road or a house or even a tall tree, without breaking the snow or leaving a track?
    All these details I jotted down, and felt that Holmes himself could not have been more adroit in collecting his facts. I then put myself in Holmes’ shoes. If he was on the scene, he would have considered how the murderer placed the body in this precise spot. I used my imagination, which Holmes’ had often accused me of possessing to an overactive degree, to think about how I would