The House Of Silk

many singularities that, although he lived in surroundings of extreme clutter and even chaos, with letters and documents piled up everywhere, he could find whatever he was looking for without a second thought. ‘Here it is!’ he announced. ‘The envelope tells us nothing. My name is written on the front but not the address. It was hand delivered. Whoever sent it made no attempt to disguise his handwriting and I would certainly recognise it again. You will notice the Greek
e
in
Holmes
. That unusual top flourish will not slip my mind easily.’
    ‘And what is inside it?’ I asked.
    ‘You can see for yourself,’ replied Holmes, and passed me the envelope.
    I opened it and, with a shiver that I could not disguise, drew out a short length of white, silk ribbon. ‘What is the meaning of this, Holmes?’ I asked.
    ‘I asked myself the same when I received it. In retrospect, it would seem to have been a warning.’
    ‘When was it sent?’
    ‘Seven weeks ago. At the time I was involved in a bizarre affair that involved a pawnbroker, Mr Jabez Wilson, who had been invited to join—’
    ‘—the red-headed league!’ I interrupted, for I remembered the case well and had been fortunate enough to see it to its conclusion.
    ‘Exactly. That was a three-pipe problem if ever there was one, and when this envelope arrived, my mind was elsewhere. I examined the contents and tried to work out their significance but, being otherwise engaged, I set it aside and forgot it. Now, as you can see, it has come back to haunt me.’
    ‘But who would have sent it to you? And to what purpose?’
    ‘I have no idea, but for the sake of that murdered child, I intend to find out.’ Holmes reached out and took the strip of silk from me. He laced it through his skeletal fingers and held it in front of him, examining it in the way that a man might a poisonous snake. ‘If this was directed to me as a challenge, it is one I now accept,’ he said. He punched at the air, his fist closing on the white ribbon. ‘And I tell you, Watson, that I shall make them rue the day that it was sent.’

EIGHT
A Raven and Two Keys

    Sally had not returned to her place of work that night nor the following morning. This was hardly surprising, given that she had attacked me and would surely be in fear of the consequences. In addition, the death of her brother had now been reported in the newspapers and although his name had not been mentioned, it was quite possible that she would know it was he who had been found beneath Southwark Bridge, for that was how it was in those days, particularly in the poorer parts of the city. Bad news had a way of spreading like smoke from a fire, trickling its way through every crowded room, every squalid basement, soft and insistent, smearing everything it touched. The landlord of The Bag of Nails knew that Ross was dead – he had already been visited by Lestrade and he was even less pleased to see us than he had been the day before.
    ‘Have you not caused enough trouble already?’ he demanded. ‘That girl may not have amounted to much but she was still a good pair of hands and I’m sorry to have lost her. And it’s not good for business, having the law about the place! I wish the two of you had never shown up.’
    ‘It was not we who brought the trouble, Mr Hardcastle,’ Holmes replied, for he had read the landlord’s name – Ephraim Hardcastle – above the door. ‘It was here already and we merely followed. It seems likely that you were the last person to see the boy alive. Did he tell you nothing before he left?’
    ‘Why would he speak to me or I to him?’
    ‘But you said that he had some business on his mind.’
    ‘I knew nothing of that.’
    ‘He was tortured to death, Mr Hardcastle, his bones broken one at a time. I have sworn to find his killer and bring him to justice. I cannot do so if you refuse to help.’
    The landlord nodded slowly and when he spoke again it was in more measured tones. ‘Very well. The boy turned up three nights ago with some story about having fallen out with his neighbours and needing a crib until he could sort himself out. Sally asked my permission and I gave my assent. Why not? You’ve seen the yard. There’s a whole load of rubbish to be cleared out and I thought he could help. He did a little work too, on that first day, but in the afternoon he went out, and when he came back, I saw he was very pleased with himself.’
    ‘Did his sister know what he was