Free Sherlock Holmes Stories of Edward D. Hoch by Edward D. Hoch

difficult for me to preach. Some…sometimes it’s worse than this. I also have some deafness in one ear.”
    “Tell me about the pictures. How old were the girls?”
    “They were usually prepubescent. I took the photographs in all innocence. You…you must realize that. I photographed adults, too, people like Ellen Terry and Tennyson and Rossetti.”
    “With their clothes on, I trust,” said Holmes, with a slight smile.
    “I know what I did was viewed with distaste by many of my acquaintances,” our white-haired visitor said. “For that reason, I abandoned photography some eight years ago.”
    “Then what is the reason for this blackmail?”
    “I must go back to 1879, when I published my mathematical treatise, Euclid and His Modern Rivals. Although the general public paid it little heed, I was pleased that it caused something of a stir in mathematical circles. One of the men who contacted me at the time was a professor who held the Mathematical Chair at one of our smaller universities. We became casual friends and he learned of my photographic interests. Later, af…after I’d ceased my photography, he apparently did some picture-taking of his own. I was at the beach in Brighton this past summer when I met a lovely little girl. We chatted for a time, and I asked if she wouldn’t like to go wading in the surf. I carried some safety pins with me and I used them to pin up her skirt so she co…could wade without getting it wet.”
    I could restrain myself no longer. “This is perversion you speak of! These innocent children…”
    “I swear to you I did nothing wrong!” he insisted. “But, somehow, this former friend arranged to have me photographed in the very act of pinning up the little girl’s skirt. Now, he’s using these pictures to blackmail me.”
    “What brought you to London today,” Holmes asked, “and what unpleasantness brought you here to seek my help?”
    “The professor contacted me some months ago with his threats and blackmail. He demanded a large sum of money in return for those pictures taken at the beach.”
    “And what made him believe that a retired mathematics instructor, even at Oxford, would have a large sum of money?”
    “I have ha…had some success with my writing. It has not made me wealthy, but I live comfortably.”
    “Was your Euclid treatise that successful?” Holmes chided.
    “Certain of my other writings…” He seemed reluctant to continue.
    “What happened today?”
    “The professor demanded that I meet him here at Paddington Station with a hundred quid. I came down from Oxford on the noon train as instructed, but he was not at the station to meet me. Instead, I was assaulted by a beggar, who pushed me down in the street after handing me an odd message of some sort.”
    “Did you report this to the police?”
    “How could I? My rep…reputation…”
    “So you came here?”
    “I was at my wit’s end. I knew of your reputation and I hoped you could help me. This man has me in his clutches. He will drain me of my money and destroy my reputation as well.”
    “Pray tell me the name of this blackmailer,” Holmes said, picking up a pencil.
    “It is Moriarty…Professor James Moriarty.”
    Sherlock Holmes put down his pencil and smiled slightly. “I think I will be able to help you, Reverend Dodgson.”
    It was then that Mrs. Hudson interrupted us with word that the Christmas goose would be served in thirty minutes. We were welcome to come down earlier, if we liked, to partake of some holiday sherry. Holmes introduced her to Dodgson and then a remarkable event occurred. She stared at him through her spectacles and repeated his name to be sure she’d heard it correctly.
    “Reverend Charles Dodgson?”
    “That’s correct.”
    “It would be a pleasure if you joined us, too. There is enough food for four.”
    Holmes and I exchanged glances. Mrs. Hudson had never even conversed with a visitor before, to say nothing of inviting one to dinner. Still, it was