SHERLOCK HOLMES AND THE CHISLEHURST MURDERS PART TWELVE

Some of the maniacs were beginning to recover from the thrashing that I gave them. Alas exhausted I stumbled my way out before any had the chance to touch me. Watson was outside. He'd brought a whole crowd of policeman judging by the noise. They used batons on stragglers who were trying to slip away. Are you alright Holmes? He asked. Yes fine. Thank God your here. Shame it wasn't sooner. We could have saved the boy! Watson seemed deeply saddened and I sensed the utter pointlessness of it. I felt nothing but a duty so I softened my words for His sake. There there old boy let's go home to Baker street you need a break from this place. He looked relieved so I thought it fair to warn him that this mysterious coven was just the tip of the iceberg and the saga far from over.
Relaxing in my rooms after everyone had gone to bed the traffic noise outside was comforting. We were at least twenty miles away from Chislehurst yet I could still feel a shiver down my spine at the thought of returning. Yet return I must. The thugs had all been caught and locked up. With more suspects out of the way I will search deeper into the enquiry alone. It was on the eight thirty train that I found a helpful lead in the guise of an elderly gentleman who liked the sound of his own voice a little too much. He told me how there were people who were born into witches covens over endless generations. They plagued the countryside like rats, only worse, robbing and terrorising to survive. They were outcasts of normal society. Whatever that is? Legend has it that they live underground in the caves. Oh I have seen the women out at night in the woods. Naked dancing around the trees. Skyclad they call it. Half frightened the life out of me when I saw them. And the poor dog ran away. He seemed to sense they were bad. Evil. You know that feeling. Makes you shudder. Oh yes I do indeed know that feeling Sir...