Zodiac Killer: Newly Discovered Adventures of Sherlock Holmes (11 page)

Epilogue

Holmes had never been one to expect or accept excessive praise, and he quickly collected Watson and returned to San Francisco. He was ready to return to his life as Dr. Greystone, the retired doctor who lived a life of leisure and peace.

He looked forward to spending more time with Lydia and Mark, as well as cozy evenings with Watson, reliving some of their past great cases. He was even excited to tell Mark all about his true past and the great heritage the boy would be a part of, including the tale of the Count of Monte Cristo.

But perhaps Holmes would not receive the rest he craved; perhaps he was not entirely done with the man who had once been Jack, became the Zodiac, and died as D. B. Cooper. As Holmes returned to his apartment, appreciating the candy-colored beauty of the Victorian houses on his street, Cooper wiggled his toes on a metal slab and then gasped his way back to life.

The liquid in the flask had not been water. It had been blowfish poison, a tetrodotoxin that slowed his heart almost to the stopping point. By the time its effects wore off—and luckily before the coroner started the autopsy—the poison, if there had even been any from the snake, had been purged from his system.

Cooper looked down at his naked body, swathed in a sheet, and knew he’d have to find some clothes immediately. He sat up, grabbed a gleaming, sharp saw from the tray beside him, and began to prowl the halls of the morgue.

The lab technician didn’t even have time to react to the naked corpse who appeared before him. Within seconds, Cooper slit the man’s throat, wrapped the sheet around the wound to staunch the blood flow, and took the man’s clothes. The garments were a little small but not noticeably so.

Humming to himself, Cooper dragged the technician’s body to the table, hefted it up, and then started to leave the room. He paused—he needed to cover this up, or Holmes would soon be on his tail again.

When his fingers closed over a lighter in his stolen pants, he laughed out loud. Formaldehyde was delightfully flammable…

As Cooper slipped out the back door of the morgue, billowing smoke licked behind him. Within moments, the entire building would be in flames, and Cooper felt that old hunger for murder rising up within him again.

About the Author

Who is the Holy Ghost Writer?

The identity of the author is part of an international contest. The first person to correctly guess the name of the H. G. Writer from the clues found in the
Count of Monte Cristo
sequels will receive a reward of $5,000. Visit the Holy Ghost Writer’s Amazon author page for details and see if you can discover the real identity of the author being heralded by fans as the new Stieg Larsson for
That Girl Started Her Own Country
, the successor of Alexander Dumas for
The Sultan of Monte Cristo,
and the next Ray Bradbury for
The Boy Who Played with Dark Matter
. Contact the author at [email protected].