The Web Weaver (48 page)

Her back was to me, but her eyes were obviously fixed on him, and they both seemed to have forgotten me. “I can wait for you,” he said.

“Could you? I cannot tell you how long it will be—it may be years—but...”

“I shall wait.”

“Thank you.” Again she pressed her face against his chest.

He closed his eyes, his gaunt face relaxing, his arms tightening as his big hands drew her closer.

“If you will wait,” she said, “then I shall find a way—somehow I shall find a way to live again and to make up for all the grief I have caused. But it may... It seems so unfair to you. Surely... surely you could do better than...?”

“No,” Holmes said with a quick shake of his head. “There is no one else—not now—nor will there ever be. I had thought I would go to my grave without... So long as I know that some day you will send for me, then I can wait—then I can hope.”

“I promise you,” she whispered fiercely. “I promise.”

Again his arms tightened about her, and I turned away, not wanting to intrude at such a moment, sorrow washing over me. The room was absolutely quiet, no one stirring for a long while.

“Go now,” Violet said at last.

Holmes held her hand. “Goodbye, Violet.” He hesitated, then raised her hand and gently kissed her knuckles.

Violet let her breath out in a tremulous sigh. He turned away, but she seized his arm, then rose up on her toes, touched his cheek with her fingertips and kissed him on the lips. “
Au revoir
,” she said.

Holmes opened his mouth, and then closed it. He turned and walked through the doorway. I followed him slowly. Violet caught my arm and kissed me on the cheek.

“Thank you, Michelle—for everything. And... try to understand.” Despite her tears, I saw a strange wild joy in her dark eyes.

Sherlock was at the front door putting on his greatcoat and gloves. His eyes softened when he saw me. “Do not pity me, Michelle. I have more than I ever hoped for.”

“You are easily pleased.”

He laughed. He pulled on his gloves and held his top hat in his right hand. He hesitated a moment, his eyes fixed on mine. “It is Violet I love, but then, every man cannot be so fortunate as Henry.” He immediately turned and stared out into the sunlight. “There is the promise of an interesting case in Geneva. Nothing so spectacular as that of the web weaver, but a bank vault mysteriously—and impossibly—empty. Give Henry my regards and tell him I shall see him as soon as he returns to London.” He stepped into the icy air and closed the door behind him.

I felt curiously numb, my emotions aswirl, but I badly wanted to see Henry and get some air. I was pulling on my heavy boots when Gertrude appeared, a frown on her face.

“Is everything all right, ma’am?”

“I do not know, Gertrude. I hope so. I am going out for a while.”

She helped me into my fur coat. I put on mittens, a hat, and dark glasses, and stepped out into the bracing air. To the left, the snowy road curved sharply into the trees and led to the train station, half a mile away. Holmes would have gone that way, but he was a brisk walker, and there was no sign of him.

To the right, toward the village, children were squealing and hurling snowballs, darting in and out of the firs. They reminded me of children in London, the same high voices, but with the guttural consonants of German. The boughs were heavy with the snow that had fallen two days ago. The light was dazzling on the snow, blinding, and the sky overhead was still absolutely brilliant blue.

I started for the village and had walked for about twenty minutes when I saw Henry coming from the opposite direction. I ran to him. His face was red from the cold, a thin layer of ice covering his mustache.

“What is it?” he asked. “What is wrong?”

“Sherlock has come—and gone. He and Violet told each other what dreadful, hopeless, unloving, dried-up people they were.”

“Oh, no—I can imagine what they might have said.”

“I lost my temper and gave them a talking to.”

“I’ll wager you did.” I slipped my hand about his arm and told him all that had happened.

When I finished he was silent for a while. “After all that has occurred, do you think they could simply...? No, Violet was right, but I think she will someday go to him. It is as you said: They do love one another. And she is the only woman who could ever happily raise pet spiders with him.”

“Do not joke about it!”

“I am sorry, Michelle. You are so generous with your love that you simply cannot understand.” He stopped, then set his hand on my
shoulder. “Diseases of the heart are difficult to treat—I am not joking now. You have done as much as anyone could, Dr. Doudet Vernier. Time must do the rest. You must be patient.”

“You know I am not a patient person.”

He kissed me on the lips. His mustache was icy and prickly, but his breath was warm. “I know you are not, but now it is up to them.”

We held hands through our thick mittens. Ahead of us was the chalet where we were staying, smoke pouring from its narrow chimney. Blue shadow covered the snowy mountains on one side, while the crags on the other were bathed in a golden light, their tops radiant against the blue-black sky.

“It gets dark so early,” I murmured, “but it is lovely here.”

The wind murmured softly in the boughs of the firs, and we were nearly to the door when I realized there was another sound. I plunged forward, pulling Henry along.

“What is it?”

I stopped before the porch. “
Hush
.”

“But...”

He stopped as he heard it, too, and then the corners of his mouth vanished under his frozen mustache. Something caught in my throat, and a joyful shiver seemed to pass through my entire body, all the way to my toes. A laugh slipped from my lips and flew away as white vapor.

“Oh Violet,” I murmured.

The music of Bach, a partita for unaccompanied violin, could be heard faintly, its strange combination of passion, beauty, and intellect echoing dimly across that vast, glacial landscape.

THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF
S
HERLOCK
H
OLMES

Sam Siciliano

Paris 1890. Sherlock Holmes is summoned across the English Channel to the famous Opera House. Once there, he is challenged to discover the true motivations and secrets of the notorious phantom, who rules its depths with passion and defiance.

ISBN: 9781848568617

THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF
S
HERLOCK
H
OLMES

Philip José Farmer

During the Second World War, Mycroft Holmes dispatches his brother, Sherlock, and Dr. Watson to recover a stolen formula. During their perilous journey, they are captured by a German zeppelin. Subsequently forced to abandon ship, the pair parachute into the dark African jungle where they encounter the lord of the jungle himself...

ISBN: 9780857681201

Kim Newman

Imagine the twisted evil twins of Holmes and Watson and you have the dangerous duo of Professor James Moriarty—wily, snake-like, fiercely intelligent, unpredictable—and Colonel Sebastian ‘Basher’ Moran—violent, politically incorrect, debauched. Together they run London crime, owning police and criminals alike. Unravelling mysteries—all for their own gain.

ISBN: 9780857682833

THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF
S
HERLOCK
H
OLMES

Guy Adams

A body is found crushed to death in the London snow. There are no footprints anywhere near. It is almost as if the man was killed by the air itself. While pursuing the case, Holmes and Watson travel to Scotland to meet with the one person they have been told can help: Aleister Crowley.

ISBN: 9780857682826