Now Holmes tell me what's going on because I haven't the foggiest idea now. Sherlock sat back in his overstuffed armchair and smoked his pipe. It was a heady and delicious perfumed blend and the dining room smelled wonderful thought Watson awaiting a reply. Isn't it blatantly obvious? The answer is staring you in the face. He whispered as Sam returned to serve them. Him? Mouthed Watson silently, His brow raised in surprise. Holmes nodded. Come and chat with us Sam. Here have some whiskey. Now young man I'm going to ask you a question and I want the truth, do you understand? Sam sat almost fell into a chair and breathed out heavily. Was it relief that he'd been caught out or just plain tiredness. Do you know who's killing these men? Is it something to do with your little club? No Mr Holmes of course not. The boys just like a fight to win some money and let off steam. It's how we settle our differences too. I'm no killer Sir! I have to get back to the bar... Maybe your wrong about him Holmes. Could be innocent. I Sherlock Holmes saw what my companion did not in the form of a bead of sweat running down the chaps face as I questioned him. I could smell the fear as His eyes avoided mine. Dear Watson so kind and accommodating failed to notice the filthy fingernails and trembling hands that had served us this evening. Dirt from the grave I wonder. Quite put me off my food. One doesn't have much of an appetite at the best of times.
One thing's for sure I won't be leaving until I get to the bottom of it.
The blood of a hundred men was needed to make a dagger so powerful it was able to send a man into another dimension according to ancient le...
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