Sherlock Holmes: Cthulhu Mythos Adventures (Sherlock Holmes Adventures Book 2) Read Free Page B

‘gods’ may have been beings poorly observed or ill understood,” I pointed out. “Real or not, that would make little difference to those who believe – the cults which Carter claimed to have discovered.”
    “Quite possible,” Holmes agreed. “The Thuggee of India are an example of that mindset. Whatever you make of their beliefs, they must be taken seriously.” He paused a moment. “You feel your cousin may have suffered at the hands of one of these cults?”
    “It is possible,” I admitted. “Carter may have stumbled into an area in which man was not meant to probe.”
    “Nonsense, my good fellow,” Holmes laughed. “There is nothing into which the human mind is not meant to delve.”
    “In this case, the danger…”
    “Danger be damned!” Holmes cried. “If we let fear rule our lives, Professor Philips, we would be no better than our savage ancestors who prayed for gods and demons to let the sun rise each morning. The German scientist Heisenberg has shown us a cosmos quite complex enough without adding gods and demons to his theories of dimensional pluralities and principal of uncertainty.”
    “What if the gods are real, Mr. Holmes?”
    “Then the gods had better beware, as wary as they should have been of the mortal Odysseus.” Holmes smiled. “Do you believe in the gods of Carter Randolph?”
    “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I don’t have to believe in them to fear those who so.”
    Holmes nodded and stroked his chin.
    “Will you help me, Mr. Holmes?”
    “Yes, I will,” he said after a moment. “There are certain aspects of the case which intrigue me as no others have recently. Would you be so kind as to assist me, accompany me, as I look into this matter? Your familiarity with the country and the subject matter would be invaluable.”
    “I would be honored.”
    “Where does your cousin live?”
    “In Arkham, not far from the University.”
    “Then Arkham is where we must start.” Holmes decided. “Let us leave as soon as possible.”
    “Yes, I’ll arrange for the tickets.” I told him. “I’ll meet you at the station within the hour.”
    Before I had reached the door, Holmes had pulled out a battered bag and had started packing his belongings. I watched him a moment longer, knowing there was no possible way I could properly express my gratitude.
    “Ah, the game is afoot,” I heard him murmur softly. “If only you could hear those words, Watson, my poor friend…”
    I guiltily shut the door.
    As I left the Copley Plaza, I noticed a short swarthy man who seemed to be following me. Knowing the bad reputation of Boston, I was firmly convinced that this man was a criminal of some sort. I walked several more blocks, then turned back upon my steps, surprising my shadow. As I watched, he disappeared into a shadowed alley. I did not like the look of the man. He appeared ill to me – there was a certain tinge and scalinesss about his skin. His eyes seemed to bulge in a very disturbing way, almost batrachian in nature, and his mouth seemed wide enough to split his head in twain. He was also ill dressed for the weather, bundled in a heavy coat that reached to his knees. All in all, there was something repulsively abnormal and inhuman about the man.
    He did not venture from the alley, and I was not about to follow him in. I continued on my way. Later, when Holmes joined me at the station, I told him of the odd incident.
    “You are certain as to the man’s intentions?” he asked.
    “What else could he have been after but my pocketbook?”
    “I do not know, and it would be foolhardy to speculate without further information,” Holmes admitted. “Still, a man such as you describe, one seemingly so far physically from the common run of humanity, is worthy of note.” He paused. “Such as the man now standing forty yards to your left, but do not alert him any making any sudden movements.”
    I chanced a sly covert glance. “Not the same man, but he could certainly be a