The Adventure of the Skittering Shadow: Sherlock Holmes in Space Read Free Page A

in question.
     
    “Did you get a chance to look at those medical records, Watson?”
     
    “Yes, I did.”
     
    Holmes had spent the time that we were in transit calling people in the city, doing research, and scribbling notes and figures into a data pad. As I had spent that same time skimming the deceased Miss Stoner’s extensive medical records, I felt confident that I could add to the discussion.
     
    “The coroner seems to have been a stolid, conscientious type, and I can see how she came to her final conclusions. I can say without qualification that the coroner did everything required of her by law and was thorough in her examination. Her conclusions were solidly rooted in the data available to her.”
     
    “Were there any signs of poison?”
     
    “The coroner and the consultant didn’t detect any. I looked at the raw results of the coroner’s tests, and I agree with her. Based on the tests that were run, Julia Stoner was not poisoned.” Contemplating the possibilities, I gave my cane a little swing. The remnant of an old injury, I carried it now more from habit than the occasional necessity. “However, there are some discretionary tests that I wish had been done then that cannot be done now, as Julia Stoner’s body has already been cremated.”
     
    “The coroner included the raw test results in her report?” asked Holmes. He sounded surprised.
     
    “No, but Miss Stoner included it in her message, along with the autopsy video, the coroner’s private case notes, and relevant entries from the consultant’s personal diary.”
     
    They were all things that no practicing medical professional would release without a court order, and certainly not to a grieving relative of the deceased.
     
    Holmes frowned. Rather than commenting on what were doubtless Miss Stoner’s means of obtaining such sensitive information, he said, “The finances are as Miss Stoner intimated. Only Helen Stoner and Dr. Grimesby Roylott will benefit from Julia Stoner’s death. I’ve asked contacts of mine on Earth to determine if the man as well as his money resides on the planet and to check on the general state of his finances. I have also reached out to a contact within Nerio’s government to find out what Julia Stoner’s position was with them. Perhaps someone there will benefit or advance on her death.” I nodded and, slanting a look my way, Sherlock Holmes asked, “What do you make of it, Watson?”
     
    “I don’t know what to think,” I confessed. “The woman was alone in a locked room when she met her fate. Nothing could have gotten to her. It seems impossible that she was the victim of a nefarious plot, save if her sister was the force that moved against her. But it is her sister who begged you to discover the dead woman’s fate. She is obsessed with it.”
     
    “What then of the woman’s cause of death? Three separate doctors, one of whom I know to be among the best of his profession, could not determine the cause of her death.”
     
    “That is disconcerting at best,” I agreed, secretly warm with pleasure at Holmes’ unobtrusive compliment. “But even now, medicine is full of mysteries. And so is Mars.”
     
    “At least one of which will hopefully be resolved at the conclusion of our investigation,” added Holmes. “Come, Watson, I see the restaurant! And there is William Chapman, wearing the hat with the bright blue band that we agreed upon.”
     
    William Chapman, the husband that the sisters had passed between them, was a lanky man with dark hair, dark eyes, and raw knuckles. Although not especially handsome, the force of his charisma was not lost even upon me, an ardent admirer of the fairer sex.
     
    As we drew nearer, Chapman doffed his hat at us, a gesture that I returned. Holmes, who was not wearing a hat, contented himself with a nod.
     
    There were introductions all around before we went inside and seated ourselves at a table near one of the windows. The next few minutes were consumed