My friend slid down in his seat and placed his steepled fingers to his lips. ’I am intrigued,’ he said lazily.
Melmoth, almost ignoring my presence, raised the magnum as though it were a trophy. ’A little gift for you, Mr Holmes, in gratitude.’ He placed it at my friend’s feet.
Holmes raised a questioning eyebrow.
‘For exposing that scoundrel, Hawkshaw. I had heard so many good accounts of the fellow that I really believed that I had found the genuine article at last.’
‘Your thanks are misplaced, Mr Melmoth. You are neither poor nor bereaved, and therefore any benefits that you received from my little performance at Frontier Lodge are purely coincidental.’
Melmoth’s icy cold blue eyes flashed enigmatically and he leaned forward, the young, plump face demonic in the shadow-light. ’Money means little to me, Mr Holmes; and you are quite correct. I am not — at present — bereaved. However, I am most serious in my research, and you have successfully sealed up one avenue of investigation for me.’
I could retain my curiosity no longer. ’May I ask exactly what kind of research you pursue?’ I enquired.
Melmoth turned to me as though he had only just become aware of my presence. ’Research into death,’ he said softly. ’The life beyond living.’
My puzzled expression prompted him to expand on his reply.
‘I am of the new age in scientific thinking, Doctor Watson. Death is a medieval mystery, a mystery that can be solved — must be solved. I do not believe that we scrape and scrabble our way along the weary road of life merely to fade into oblivion upon reaching the end. There is more. There must be more. Like Oliver Lodge and those of his persuasion, I believe that life, as we know it, is just the beginning — the starting point. I talk not of Heaven as prescribed by the scriptures, that fairyland in the sky, but of a door through which we pass into immortality.’
Warming to his exposition, with flushed cheeks and tense jawline, he rose and threw his arms wide. ’Take a walk into the East End of this city, gentlemen. See the poverty there, the suffering, the open degradation. Human beings living and behaving like animals in the filth and squalor. Is that Life? Come, gentlemen, there has to be more. There is a key. Somewhere there is a key to unlock the secret of it all. You, Mr Holmes, deal with the ills of society; you, Doctor, minister to the ailments of the body. So be it; but I search beyond those petty concerns.’
‘You believe that you can alter the natural course of events?’ said Holmes.
Melmoth shook his head. ’What you talk of as being natural is only regarded as such out of ignorance. Death is natural, I grant you, but the end of living is not. That the state of being ceases with the arrival of the burial casket is accepted by the naive, because it has never been challenged. No illness known to man would have been cured if someone had not challenged it. We would still be living in caves had there not been those who challenged the accepted beliefs and pushed the boundaries forward. I do not believe death is the end. Its power can and will be conquered.’ Suddenly he stopped in mid-flow, as though he realised that perhaps he had said too much. His face broke into a wide, unpleasant smile and his voice dropped to a sibilant whisper like a hissing snake. ’I assure you, gentlemen, I am correct.’
With this parting remark, he bowed low in a theatrical manner and swept from the room.
‘The fellow is mad,’ I said, as I heard him clatter down our stairs.
Holmes stared at the burning embers in the grate. ’If only it were as simple as that, Watson.’
THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
THE WAR OF THE WORLDS
Manley Wade Wellman & Wade Wellman
Sherlock Holmes, Professor Challenger and Dr Watson meet their match when the streets of London are left decimated by a prolonged alien attack. Who could be responsible for such destruction? Sherlock Holmes is about to find out… ISBN: 9781848564916
AVAILABLE NOW!
The Ectoplasmic Man Page 20
