The Mystery of the Scarlet Rose

The Mystery of the Scarlet Rose — page 5 — Remembering that last letter I sighed and kept my eyes glued to the delicate dance of snowflakes outside the window Sherlock Holmes on the other hand had become a frequent visitor since I’d moved to the capital of Britain I knew I was a lucky girl now that I lived in London and not just because my father was able to get us away from the violence of the Franco Prussian War But I was also lucky because even before fame had brushed my friend I realized what a privilege it was to spend time with Sherlock Holmes and witness his lively volatile genius However there were times I missed Lupin with his charming simplicity and his boldness I missed his ability to make even the most dangerous adventure seem harmless but then describe it in such an exaggerated way that I had a hard time recognizing it despite having been involved myself I missed Lupin’s jokes his confidence his bold daredevil actions and that feeling of invincibility he seemed to have in the face of the world around us which reassured me before all danger Mostly I missed the alchemy that was created when the three of us Sherlock Lupin and I were together That was the power of our youth and our friendship Yes I was lucky to have such dear friends And lucky to have had so many adventures with them It was hard to believe that just last summer we’d been carrying out our first investigation After we’d come across a dead body washed ashore on the beach in Saint-Malo the three of us had vowed to discover the man’s identity and the cause of his death Indeed we did discover those facts and then some Just a few short months after I visited London with Papa It was then that Sherlock Lupin and I began a different investigation this one into the murder of Alfred Santi assistant to the great opera maestro Guiseppe Barzini This investigation had hit a rather personal note since Lupin’s father Théophraste was accused of the murder When the famous opera singer Ophelia Merridew went missing our trio had set out to find her And we’d been successful I sighed wondering what adventure we might encounter next When I finally tore my eyes away from the window I hurried to check the clock in the corner of the office It was Wednesday a few minutes before three And that day of the week as well as on Fridays my afternoons were spent the same way at four o’clock on the dot I would go down to the street where Mr Nelson waited with a carriage to take me to the Shackleton Coffee House on Carnaby Street That was one of the little secrets I shared with our butler My parents believed I was going to my lesson with Miss Langtry my new voice teacher The truth however was that I went there an hour later after spending some time with Sherlock in the Shackleton Coffee House a café that was little suited for a young girl from a good family But because Mr Nelson was responsible for scheduling and paying Miss Langtry it was not difficult to tell that small lie and gain that short secret moment in the company of my fascinating friend the young Sherlock Holmes That day however the unexpected snowfall convinced me to change my routine I hurried to put Papa’s desk back in order and ran to my bedroom to put on my heaviest boots Then I bundled up announcing my plans to Mr Nelson and my mother as I was already heading out the door I’m going to walk to Miss Langtry today I want to enjoy the city in the snow Could you send the usual carriage to fetch me at six Mr Nelson I asked While my mother’s and Mr Nelson’s voices echoed from the front hall behind me I plunged outside into the cold air and the swirls of snow that had slipped between the buildings carriages and bundled-up passersby I intended to go meet Sherlock of course but I hadn’t been lying when I’d said I wanted to enjoy the city in the snow So I crossed Aldford Street and turned onto South Adley Street heading toward Piccadilly It wasn’t the shortest route but as I came out to the large bustling street that led to the heart of London I found all that I had hoped to find First of all the majestic trees of Green Park were now covered in snow and their branches intertwined like silver lattices I found myself thinking about something that had struck me years before when I was a child the incredible wizardry that snow

The Mystery of the Scarlet Rose — page 6 — can create It can transform even the most forgettable corner of a city into a magical place enchanted and mysterious I gazed at the lights beaming inside the grand hotels and the glowing shop windows and the comings and goings of ladies dressed in fur their valets huffing and puffing under bags and suitcases In that moment I felt that special feverish merriment that can only come when walking down a city street in the days before Christmas I found myself surrounded by voices laughter and the aroma of roasted chestnuts and sugar loaves and happily let myself be swept up in the rushing stream of people I enjoyed every single moment of that walk in the snow captivated by the bright colors the decorations and the mistletoe branches in the shop windows It all looked like a giant kaleidoscope Almost without realizing it I reached Piccadilly Circus where between the crowds of people and the traffic of carriages and wagons it was nearly impossible to move I turned onto the first road that led north and walked quickly for a quarter of an hour I let the smell of roasting sausages and the cries of shopkeepers guide me through a neighborhood much simpler and more working-class than the one I’d just left I arrived at Carnaby Street and wove my way between market stalls and the bustling crowd of people I finally walked through the doorway of the Shackleton Coffee House and despite being twenty minutes early found Sherlock already sunk into his favorite armchair Seeing him filled me with the usual intense thrill which felt like a slight tightening in my stomach But there was a black cloud that seemed to swirl around Sherlock’s eternally disheveled hair I sensed an air of unrest and gloom which immediately put me on alert Indeed I knew Sherlock Holmes too well not to recognize that something must have happened

The Mystery of the Scarlet Rose — page 7

The Mystery of the Scarlet Rose — page 8 — Chapter 2 A SUDDEN STORM My intuition had hit the bull’s-eye Sherlock’s greeting came in the form of a grunt Good day to you Holmes I teased I’m glad to see that the sparkling Christmas atmosphere has made you cheerful Sherlock threw me one of his intense looks His hard gray eyes twinkled for a moment and then he covered them with his hand rubbing his face In the middle of his forehead which up to that point had been smooth and relaxed two wrinkles formed and his long sharp nose twitched with annoyance At the moment my mind is an endless desert of boredom he said And I am sorry to inform you that what you call the Christmas atmosphere simply does not exist Really I said as I sat down in an armchair across the table from Sherlock And yet it appears that I just saw a few thousand merry Londoners walking the streets ready to contradict your odd theory Sherlock responded with a sneer I do not understand why people are so merry he said crossing his legs in an irritated fashion Then he extended his long knobby fingers one by one as he listed everything that seemed incomprehensible to him Streets blocked by foolish people smiles engraved on their faces greedy shopkeepers eager to sell useless rubbish and a pathetic race to eat greasy food is that your idea of a sparkling atmosphere grumbled my friend I think you should send a formal petition to abolish Christmas to Her Majesty Queen Victoria I said Then you’ll have taken care of the problem Sherlock grasped his cup of hot cocoa took a sip and grunted again Then he smiled and I did the same By then I knew those moments of dark humor very well And Sherlock knew that I was certainly not going to be crushed by the grip of his anger What he would never admit however not even under torture was that my presence helped calm him And that he’d wanted to meet me at least as much as I’d wanted to meet him The truth he admitted after ordering a cup of hot cocoa for me is that I am now decidedly less irritated than I was just half an hour ago Irene I’ve always had a certain influence on you I kidded putting my gloves on the small table But the truth is I liked to imagine that what I’d just said was really so And if I might ask I continued to what do we owe this lucky improvement in your mood It’s because of the good old Times Sherlock answered grabbing a copy of the paper that was lying on the windowsill next to him I felt a stab of disappointment which I ignored Oh It seems there would be reading material that might serve your mood better than the Times I answered surprised And you are right admitted Sherlock flipping through the pages But this page of classified ads in Monday’s Times contains an interesting peculiarity If you’re referring to that blurb about the little Indian monkeys trained to steal wallets out of the pockets of well-meaning

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