The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes--The Instrument of Death
Page 1
Contents
Cover
Available Now from Titan Books: The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Series
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Epilogue
Note
About the Author
Also available from Titan Books
AVAILABLE NOW FROM TITAN BOOKS
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES SERIES:
THE GRIMSWELL CURSE
Sam Siciliano
THE DEVIL’S PROMISE
David Stuart Davies
THE ALBINO’S TREASURE
Stuart Douglas
MURDER AT SORROW’S CROWN
Steven Savile & Robert Greenberger
THE WHITE WORM
Sam Siciliano
THE RIPPER LEGACY
David Stuart Davies
THE COUNTERFEIT DETECTIVE
Stuart Douglas
THE MOONSTONE’S CURSE
Sam Siciliano
THE HAUNTING OF TORRE ABBEY
Carole Buggé
THE IMPROBABLE PRISONER
Stuart Douglas
THE DEVIL AND THE FOUR
Sam Siciliano
DAVID STUART DAVIES
TITAN BOOKS
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES:
THE INSTRUMENT OF DEATH
Print edition ISBN: 9781785658488
E-book edition ISBN: 9781785658495
Published by Titan Books
A division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd
144 Southwark Street, London SE1 0UP
First Titan edition: February 2019
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Names, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead (except for
satirical purposes), is entirely coincidental.
© 2019 David Stuart Davies
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system,
or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written
permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of
binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar
condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
Printed in the USA.
What did you think of this book? We love to hear from our readers.
Please email us at: readerfeedback@titanemail.com,
or write to Reader Feedback at the above address.
To receive advance information, news, competitions, and exclusive offers
online, please sign up for the Titan newsletter on our website:
www.titanbooks.com
To Michael Daviot and Mark Kydd.
The new brilliant portrayers of Holmes and Watson.
Prologue
He looked up at the night sky, a smile forming on his lips as he observed the full moon emerging in all its radiant glory from behind a bank of grey clouds, glowing brightly in the indigo heavens. He was mesmerised by it. Unfettered by the ragged clouds, the moon was there now to observe him, to support him, to bear witness, to shed its creamy light on his dark deed. It was as though it were his luminous confederate. He raised his hand to his forehead in gentle salute. The moon had given him its blessing and now he could be about it. Now he could proceed with the murder. Now he could kill.
Chapter One
Even as a child, Gustav Caligari had been an odd individual. A large baby, he had developed into a sturdy toddler, much bigger than his confederates at kindergarten. At this early age he was already an intimidating presence, which made it easier for him to bully and manipulate his peers. He was alone with his father in the city of Prague, his mother having succumbed to typhoid shortly after the child’s birth. The boy’s father, Emeric Caligari, taught surgical technique at the Charles-Ferdinand University in the city and his demanding duties left him little time for his son. In truth, he had no real interest in the child following the death of his wife. The boy was a constant, painful reminder of his loss and so he left the domestic parenting duties to the hired nanny, Rosa Placzek, sending the boy from home during the day as soon as feasible.
Despite his size, Gustav Caligari was a quiet creature, but he harboured a dark, sadistic nature. Even before the age of five he had developed a fascination with the torture of small animals and insects. He would trap a group of spiders in a jar, drop a lighted taper into their midst and chuckle with glee as the tiny limbs writhed and shrivelled in the flames. His favourite trick was to catch a small bird, a sparrow or a wren, and slowly twist its head round until he heard the tiny bones snap, finally tearing it off, delighting in the furious flapping of the wings and the twitching of the bird’s body until life in the mutilated creature ebbed away.
On one occasion Rosa Placzek caught him trying to strangle a kitten. He seemed surprised and annoyed when she shouted at him, snatching the terrified animal from his grasp. He failed to understand why she was so angry, why she remonstrated with him at length and called him “a devil child”. To his mind, he had merely been exercising his curiosity. He was experimenting, he explained simply and unemotionally. He only wanted to see how long the kitten would struggle before it surrendered itself to death. His mother had abandoned him and he wondered how hard she had fought to stay.
When Gustav began formal schooling at the age of five, he turned his attention to his fellow pupils. Larger and stronger than his contemporaries, he always targeted the weaker, less intelligent children, carefully finding a time when he could lure them away to some isolated spot. Then he would subject them to bouts of bullying: biting their arms, poking them in the eye and on one occasion bringing a large stone down on another boy’s foot, breaking many of the delicate bones.
This incident resulted in Gustav’s removal from the school.
“I am sorry to inform you that your son has serious problems,” the headmaster informed Gustav’s father, who had been summoned to his office. “He has an inability to integrate peacefully with the other children and he seems consumed with a desire to hurt them. What is so chilling is that he carries out these terrible acts in what appears to be a calm and matter-of-fact manner. He never seems angry or loses his temper. It is almost as though he causes pain purely in a spirit of enq
uiry. To him they are experiments in torture. This is a most disturbing trait and I suggest that you seek medical advice and treatment. This dark tendency should be nipped in the bud. If not…” The headmaster shook his head.
Emeric had no doubts. Quite clearly, his son was a monster in embryo.
After Gustav’s removal from public education, a series of private tutors came to the house, the majority of whom lasted only a few months. These frustrated pedagogues found the boy a conundrum. On the surface he was polite and docile with rare flashes of charm, but he was also monosyllabic and rarely responded to any of the stimuli they provided.
That was until Hans Bruner appeared on the scene.
In many ways, he was a last resort. Emeric Caligari had heard from his colleagues about the old retired headmaster, who lived in a less salubrious quarter of Prague and was constantly seeking work to supplement his meagre pension. He had a reputation for dealing with recalcitrant students, having worked in one of the toughest schools in the city, and was something of a legend, achieving remarkable results. Emeric thought that he seemed an ideal candidate to tutor his difficult son – and moreover, Bruner was relatively cheap and eager.
When Hans Bruner first entered the schoolroom in the Caligari house, Gustav knew at once that they were going to get along. In his mind’s eye, he saw the ancient fellow standing before him as a version of the aged magician in Goethe’s poem “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice”. He possessed stooping shoulders, a bowed back and a white straggly beard that came to a point several inches below the chin. He wore a pair of heavy dark spectacles on a curved beak of a nose that gave him the appearance of a weary owl. His coat was long, old and shiny, with wide lapels and a full-skirted swirl of fabric, which gave the impression to Gustav that it was actually a cloak.
It had long been Bruner’s belief that in order to engage difficult students in education, they should at first be allowed to choose their own field of study rather than having one imposed upon them, thereby risking rebellion. As a result of this approach, enthusiasm was ignited and a close relationship was gradually formed between pupil and master. Gustav Caligari’s choice of subject came swiftly: “The history of magic,” he cried, with uncharacteristic animation. As it happened, this was a particular interest of Bruner’s. He had written a long paper on the subject as a young man at university. It was always in the murky corners of knowledge that he found most interest and inspiration.
As the years passed, student and master travelled down this dark path of academic enquiry. Gustav’s enthusiasm for the subject unleashed Bruner’s long-restrained passion for sorcery and within weeks they were reciting the arcane words of several simple occult ceremonies. Bruner’s eager student pressed his tutor to move on to the study of rituals and spells that would bring individuals under the power of the magician. This led them to focus on the work of Franz Friedrich Anton Mesmer, the German physician who believed that there is a magnetic force or “fluid” within the universe that influences the health of the human body. Such a force could, in the hands of an expert practitioner, exert a power over the patient.
Gustav sat entranced as Bruner explained the theories behind Mesmer’s experiments. “In the early stages of his work,” Bruner told his student, “Mesmer had experimented with magnets in an attempt to gain control over his patient, but he later concluded that the same effect could be achieved by passing the hands or some small inanimate object in front of the subject’s face. These were later referred to as making ‘Mesmeric passes’.”
“What would happen then?” asked Gustav, his eyes ablaze with interest.
“These passes would lead the patient into a trance. In this state the patient was able, with the assistance of the physician, to aid his own recovery from whatever ailment he was suffering. A side effect of this trance state was the ability of the doctor to take complete control of his patients, subverting them to his will if he so wished. The practice became known as ‘mesmerism’ after its creator.”
“So… so you could make the patient a slave, obeying your commands?”
Bruner’s brow creased. “In essence, yes, but the process was to facilitate the patient’s recovery – a process that we now refer to as hypnotism.”
Gustav was eager to learn the procedures involved in this strange but powerful practice. The thought of taking control, of being the puppet master of another individual, inflamed his senses. With these skills, he could truly play God.
Emeric Caligari had no notion as to the nature of his son’s studies. In truth, he was not much interested, but he was pleased with the effect the tutor was having on the boy. Gustav now seemed more at ease with himself and more biddable; he even exhibited signs of reserved maturity. The boy’s father was entirely unaware that this was a conscious act on Gustav’s part, to prevent his father from prying into his education and the path it was taking. As well as the daytime lessons, Gustav spent most of his evenings in his room studying the ancient tomes that Bruner had managed to secure for him.
Sometimes, after supper, he would leave the house quietly and stroll about the city in the cool of the night, especially when the moon was full, casting its silver light on the quiet thoroughfares. On these walks he took pleasure in observing the lives of the folk he encountered as they made their way about the streets: scurrying little ants, each with their own concerns, passions and destinies. Drab specks on the face of the universe. He fantasised about taking one of these individuals and enslaving him. Under the yoke of mesmerism the fellow would do his bidding, whatever Gustav wished him to do. One day, he thought. One day.
On one such nocturnal excursion, he found himself outside a small theatre. The garish poster advertising the show within promised an evening of gothic thrills. The concept was unknown to him but the poster, telling of blood, terror and brutality, was sufficient to lure him inside.
He sat at the back of the tiny auditorium and was immediately entranced by the performance on stage. It was a crude melodrama acted out against a stark and symbolic backdrop, the villain a tall crooked figure draped in a flowing cape with a scarlet lining, visage smeared with green greasepaint. Presented as blend of vampire and black magician, he was the epitome of evil. The climax came when he trapped the nubile heroine in a vaulted cellar. With dramatic gestures, he tore her outer garments from her, revealing flimsy satin underclothes. With a maniacal laugh he stabbed her violently in the chest. Bright red blood gushed and spurted from her, covering her torso in a shiny scarlet hue as she screamed and bellowed in theatrical agony.
The audience, shocked to the core at such a show of violence, sat in silence, open-mouthed with horror. In the darkness, at the back of the theatre, Caligari leaned forward in his seat, entranced, his eyes aglow with enchantment and a broad smile on his pale face.
Chapter Two
With the assistance of Hans Bruner, Gustav Caligari’s explorations of the supernatural continued alongside his study of the more mundane academic subjects. As the boy matured, it became ever more apparent to him that in order to progress in the world, to attain a position where he could achieve independence and act unhindered by petty restrictions, he should become well-educated and adept at manipulating events to his own advantage. In order to achieve this, it was necessary to embrace all the subjects in the academic curriculum. He must have knowledge of geography, mathematics, the arts and literature and other disciplines. To his surprise he developed not only a liking but a facility for science, in particular human biology.
As his teenage years progressed Caligari grew more interested in medical studies and saw that his professional career might lie in a sphere rather like that of his father. Gustav took to borrowing a number of his father’s textbooks and even persuaded him to allow his son to attend some of his lectures. Nevertheless, Hans Bruner remained Gustav’s real rock and his only confidant. Gustav could never expose his darker thoughts to his father; with Bruner, however, he could be himself. He felt he had no need to hide from his tutor his dark and strange desires. And
the sense of security he experienced with the old pedagogue gave the youth confidence and helped foster his ambitions.
Then came the blow. Some months before Gustav was to take his admission examinations to the Prague Medical School, Bruner fell ill. The doctor attending Bruner advised Gustav and his father that it was a fatal illness. “The old man is worn out. There is no way back for him. His major organs are failing. The oil in the lamp has dried up and so the flame will falter and die.”
It was the first time in his life that Gustav had felt the emotion of sadness. Somewhat to his surprise, it dawned on him that not merely had he come to rely on the old fellow regarding his studies; he had, too, grown terribly fond of him. The shock of his tutor’s illness made Caligari realise that he had come to think of Bruner as a father figure. He certainly had more in common with him than with his own natural parent. They shared a remarkable affinity and understanding that was, in Gustav’s eyes, spiritual. He knew that he owed the old man a great deal for opening up that shadowed territory which now consumed much of his interest. The thought of losing Bruner, of there being a world without him, pained Gustav severely. It was a heavy burden pressing down on his soul. He did not, however, harbour false hopes; he accepted the inevitability of the man’s death and this made the pain worse.
One dull autumn evening, as the louring grey clouds scudded across the sky, Gustav made his way to see the old man in his cottage in the poor quarter of the city where he lived. As he walked through the shabby, narrow streets, the burden of sadness lay heavy on his shoulders. He was well aware that this was the last time he would see his ailing tutor in the land of the living.
He entered the gloomy, cramped room where Bruner lay on his sick bed, covered with ancient grimy creased linen and a threadbare counterpane. A single candle was the only illumination in this death chamber, as Gustav conceived it. The old man lay on his back, only his head visible above the covers. His visage was wrinkled and grey, like the sheets themselves. The cheeks were sunken and his eyes, dark pinpricks, peered out from hollow caverns.