SHERLOCK HOLMES AND THE CHISLEHURST MURDERS PART SEVENTEEN

Will you be fighting tonight Sherlock? Came the gruff cockney accent belonging to the well built proprietor in a friendly, yet humorously menacing tone. Seemed like a decent sort of man. I'd sparred with him on many an occasion, finding him a bit soft despite his enormous muscle power. He really was no match for me. Do we have a newcomer? I asked raising my brow as an exciting new challenge was just what the doctor ordered. He nodded. Yes we have a new one all right. His eyes glinted almost spitefully which further raised my adrenaline.I inhaled my pipe languishing in a feeling of euphoria.It's contents not quite as potent as usual for sleep was not welcome. My man in Bermondsey had given me a good supply of opium. That was the true reason for returning to London apart from the blasted book which was full of errors and not the original copy as I had once thought. I happened to meet one of the so called cave dwellers earlier on around noon. He stole some food from the kitchens and ran off so fast that I barely caught sight of his face. Nobody chased him. It was a regular occurrence apparently. They're a bloody nuisance. Said the cook. A huge red faced man called Stanley as he crossed the carpeted bar room almost knocking a table over. Scared the life out of me he did. Has he gone? Oh hello Sherlock. I didn't know you was staying here. I rarely get out of the kitchen these days. You fighting tonight? Yes Stanley I am indeed, and looking forward to it. Now who is this new fighter? Should I be afraid? I have no idea Sherlock there's new boys coming in every week from all over the country. Your joking with me ain't you? You ain't scared of nobody.I can see that smirk, like your laughing in secret. You know me too well Stanley. Grinning I had to admit it. He raised his thick eyebrows awaiting some important task. In all seriousness. I began then hesitated enjoying his attention, not because I liked him in any way good grief no,but because I was rather hungry. My stomach was rumbling.whilst he stood open mouthed and waiting. His grubby blood soaked white apron in his hands. Get me one of your delicious pies. I said noting the disappointed sigh, his body deflating. Is that all? Coming up. He turned back to the kitchen and I wondered where the blood on his apron had come from. Following him into the kitchen unseen I watched him prepare dinner.