CHISLEHURST MURDERS PART 32

HOLMES SHERLOCK MURDERS Sherlock arose from his chair sharply looking down at the doctor who had quite clearly been slipped some semi noxious cocktail. He rarely felt fear only apprehension and a deepening curiosity. He had drank from the same decanter. The hairs on his neck were standing up as though someone was hiding in the gloomy corners of the dark room watching him. The building was creaking and groaning so much now because of the hail and wind picking up speed that he could not hear the carriages outside at first until the clopping of the horses hooves alerted him and he dashed to the window. At last. He uttered waving to the farmers boys relieved. The dagger would have to be hidden to stop furthur murders and always to stop anyone from having immortality. Not that he believed in magic. It's all stuff and nonsense. He thought with a wry smile whilst waving briefly to the coachmen. I'll be down in five minutes. He told them. Raising his voice to be heard. Maria slept soundly in a dreamless sleep which had been a welcome relief to the trying day. She would be safe now thought Holmes looking in on her. So will Watson. He wondered how many more lives the dagger would need. Someone was keeping a score that was for certain and he fully intended to find out whom it was. As he set off for London with the dagger firmly held in a tight grip dashing at speed only to be stopped further down the icy mud road by a fallen tree where to his horror a group of men in dark clothing, caped and masked like highwaymen began approaching slowly at first creeping with pistols in hands from behind trees in the overgrown woodland. Then faster until they were surrounded and outnumbered. Holmes took in a sharp intake of the fresh, cold morning air. He actually felt like laughing. He knew who they were immediately. Driver. He said it seems the police have arrived.