me?’
“‘Nothing illegal in that,’ he said. ‘I do a great deal of work with gentlemen of learning such as yourself. It’s a noble business, expanding one’s knowledge.’
“‘Indeed,’ I said—in full agreement with that sentiment at least—‘but sometimes one might want to circumnavigate some of the legal procedures, the paperwork in particular. I have no great desire for my rivals to know what sort of experiments I am conducting. In fact I would prefer for nobody to know the details.’ Here I decided to leave no room for misunderstanding. “Besides the kind gentleman that might procure such specimens for me in the first place of course.’
“‘Naturally,’ he replied, ‘that could hardly be avoided.’ He laughed a little and then decided to try and gain one more piece of security as to my credentials. ‘Who was it that suggested I might be able to offer such a service?’ he asked. I gave him the name of Moreau and that was enough, Mr Thomas was more than happy to help me and, in so doing, he proved himself the man we were after.”
“Amazing that the man’s name might be deemed any sign of security,” I said.
Holmes nodded. “But you must remember we are dealing with a community that would either endorse Moreau’s work or, in Thomas’s case, simply not care. These are unpleasant waters.” He sighed. “And I’m afraid they remain hard to navigate. The animals are shipped—to Rotherhithe, naturally—and the exchange made at the docks. Thomas retains no paperwork, nor does he have any knowledge of where the animals will end up. It’s a blind sale and therefore no use to us in tracking the purchaser down. Nonetheless the encounter answered a number of questions, most particularly with regards his acknowledging the name of Moreau.”
“So you believe it’s the doctor himself?” I asked. “I haven’t got to the section of Prendick’s report where he claims to see the man die but I suppose it would only be as accurate as its narrator.” I pulled the document free of my pocket and scanned the pages.
“There is a great deal of obfuscation in this case, Watson,” he replied. “As always, there is as much to be interpreted from the contradictions and lies as there is from the facts.”
It irritated me to admit that I didn’t follow.
“People give themselves away as much when they lie as when they tell the truth,” Holmes said, “you just have to discern the difference between the two and the reasons behind them.
“For example, Kane said earlier that the bodies found in Rotherhithe were likely those of people who had simply wandered into his creator’s lair. He claimed that he used to dispose of such accidents when he lived there. But now that he was gone, they were left to wash up wherever the tide took them.”
“It’s a strong tide that washes body parts into a pub.”
“Indeed. Not to mention the fact that the second body had been beaten and manacled before being killed, so hardly someone who had simply wandered in and come to an unlucky end.”
“Kane may not know that, though.”
“Kane’s not stupid. He is also clearly obsessed about his creator. To dismiss those bodies as washed-up accidents is not logical. So why did he say it?”
“I don’t know, why?”
“My point precisely. Aha! We’re here!”
And with that he leapt out of the cab and up the steps of Carruthers’ hotel.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
By the time I had paid the driver and caught up with Holmes, he was halfway up the stairs, running towards Carruthers’ room.
“Would it not be easier just to meet him in the foyer?” I wondered aloud while catching my breath somewhere on the fifth floor.
“Come on, Watson!” Holmes called. “We haven’t time for you to dawdle!”
I made my increasingly breathless way along the corridor of the eighth floor, Holmes a short way ahead, knocking on Carruthers’ door.
“Gentlemen!” the explorer shouted on opening the door to greet us, seemingly unconcerned at the fact that he was wearing nothing but a hat and nightshirt. “How splendid to see you! Shall I order breakfast?”
We were forced to explain that it was four o’clock in the afternoon and that perhaps we would be better off taking tea.
“Ah …” He glanced at himself in the mirror and came to realise that perhaps all was not quite how it should be. “I’m afraid I’ve been scouring the city at night and have quite lost track of my own place in the scheme of things. Perhaps you should order for us and I shall join you in a few moments?”
We agreed that would be for the best and the pair of us made our way back downstairs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It was no more than ten minutes before we were reacquainted, Carruthers having found a slightly crumpled suit to preserve his modesty before the waiting staff.
“That’s better!” he announced, once able to graze on a plate of bread and butter and eye the cake-stand appreciatively. “One forgets to indulge in the niceties.”
“Food is a nicety?” I asked with a smile.
“Food that comes on a plate at least,” he replied.
“We may well have found you your prey,” said Holmes. “Which will save another night of aimless tracking.”
“Thank the Lord for that,” said Carruthers. “There is nowhere quite so impossible to pin a trail as the city. It has been driving me positively wild.”
“I suppose I have grown used to it,” said Holmes, “as it has become such a familiar hunting ground to me over the years. Still, even when I think I know every inch of it I stumble upon somewhere new.”
“I’m afraid I’m used to areas further afield,” Carruthers admitted. “I’ve spent very little time in the capital. I’m an explorer really, never happier than when I’m far from the place I, somewhat inaccurately, refer to as home.”
“Have you always sought game?” I asked.
“Far from it, in fact I’d never claim to be a hunter at all, though certainly I’ve had occasion to adopt the role. I travel a great deal, as I have mentioned, and tend to find myself drawn to the more dangerous areas of our globe. I have often lent my services to Mycroft’s gathering of intelligence. When it came to finding a man who has pitted himself against nature at its most violent and unpredictable, I imagine Mycroft’s list was small.” He leaned forward in his chair and grinned. “And I dare say most of ’em were far from the capital!”
“It can’t have been easy for my brother to find someone whose discretion could be assured,” said Holmes.
“Indeed,” Carruthers agreed, “the thing with big game hunters is they cannot help but brag, it’s part of the sport. How my ears have grown limp listening to interminable tales of unfortunate tigers!”
“Certainly whatever creatures we find are not for show,” I said. “These heads are never destined for the games-room wall.”
“A fine thing too,” said Carruthers. “I’ve always been more fond of seeing breathing animals than dead ones but, if it’s a case of preserving the lives of innocents, then I shall take my shot when I have it.”
He leaned back in his chair, finally satiated by the considerable tea platter.
“A number of years ago I was forced to make a similar decision on behalf of a village in the Himalayas. They were besieged by a wolf pack, regularly losing their children, the animals creeping into their huts at night and stealing them from their cots.
“The villagers saw it as an act of nature, a punishment no less, for perceived indolence amongst the farmers. I knew better of course and begged the hunters to set out and kill the pack. They refused and it seemed to me that they would simply dwindle, vanishing one by one every night until there was nobody left alive in the place but the fleet of foot or the unappetising.
“I interfered. To do so is to break a cardinal rule amongst those like me who make it their life’s mission to see the world and the varying cultures it offers. Still, I could not stand by and see more die. I saw the weeping
