Holmes is Missing: The Case of the Ninth Carriage

It was the ninth carriage not the eighth. It was the ash not the cigar. It was the gentle dovetailing of salient facts that pleased him.

*
There was just enough time to catch the train. The rabbit in the distance was still visible. All was not lost.
*
Do this small favour for me, he said. Remain perfectly still. There are matters afoot that defy the intellect.That is not a biscuit.

*
Rain, steam and speed were of the essence. The man in the carriage had recently been to Belgium but that wouldn’t save him.
*
He was examining the curious lapel before him with a haunted expression on his face. My nemesis, he whispered. We must leave tonight.
*
The intersections meant nothing.The clue lay in the intersections between intersections. The clue lay under the clue. The rest was silence.
*
Note the name on the label, he said. Either that is a diacritic or I am a kangaroo. Do I look like a kangaroo? Does anyone?
*
The lady is undoubtedly in danger, he declared. The Portuguese are not to be trusted and we cannot waste our time on a mere fado.
*
The police were doing handstands in the hall again. Nothing surprises me any more, he said.
*
The Napoleon of Crime had met his Waterloo. There was much rejoicing in Euston. In Baker Street only the sound of a violin.
*
Give me your hand, Watson, he said. Now give me your foot. What have you got left? One must get into the mind of the criminal, he explained.
*
Don’t look now Watson, but there is a man in the doorway in the military uniform of a defunct army and it is too early for the postman.
*
The dust on that sleeve is all that is left of the Dead Sea Scrolls, he said. The criminal is likely to be one of the Desert Fathers.
*
How many fingers am I holding up, Watson, he asked. Have you ever asked yourself whose fingers they are?
*
I take drugs to clear my head, he said. It’s like colonic irrigation. Genius is a mental dump in the morning. It also helps when clubbing.
*
Some induce, some deduce. I am a deductionist by nature, he said. Give me a rusty Occam’s razor and I am happy. I bleed reason.
*
Apocryphal. How, in a carriage hidden by dense fog, wearing a veil over a balaclava, the master of a thousand disguises apprehended himself.
*
Apocryphal. How, one Christmas Eve, a man with a false beard and wearing a red cloak was apprehended in the study fireplace.
*
Apocryphal. How a certain sleuth strode across Grimpen Mire wearing a fake deerstalker in order to apprehend a fake deer.

*

Observation is the key, he said. I wake in the morning and observe myself in the mirror. I appear to be there. At least someone is.

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