The Devil's Grin - a Crime Novel Featuring Anna Kronberg and Sherlock Holmes Read Free Page A

Then, without touching the corpse, he bent down low over it and pointed. ‘What is this?’ The genuine interest in his voice was bare of indignation, as if he had not taken offence. I was surprised and wondered whether he did not mind the correction or whether he was so focussed on the examination that he had no time to spend on feeling resentful.
    I pick ed at the smudge he had indicated. It was a small green feather that had been tucked into a small tear just underneath the coat’s topmost buttonhole. I smoothed it and rubbed off the muck, which had almost completely hidden it.
    ‘ An Oriole female. How unusual! I haven't heard their call for many years.’
    ‘ A rare bird?’ asked Mr Holmes.
    I looked up at him, ‘Yes, but I can't tell where this feather would come from here in England. I never heard the bird’s call here. The man may have found the feather anywhere and could have been carrying it around for quite a while.’ I trailed off, gazing at the small white quill and the light grey down.
    ‘ The quill is still somewhat soft,’ I mumbled, ‘and the down is not worn. This feather wasn't plucked by a bird of prey or a fox or the like, it was moulted. He would have had it for a few weeks only and must have found it just before he became ill.’
    Mr Holmes looked surprised, and I felt the need to explain myself: ‘In my childhood I spent rather too much time in treetops and learned a lot about birds. The quill tip shows that the feather has been pushed out by a newly emerging one; birds start moulting in spring. The further north they live, the later they start. The bird shed this feather in late spring or mid-summer this year. Wherever the man had been is home to an Oriole pair.’
    ‘ Where do these birds li ve?’ he enquired.
    ‘ Large and old forests with dense foliage and water – such as a lake or a stream, an adjacent wetland would do, too.’
    ‘ The Thames?’
    ‘ Possibly,’ I mused.
    The brick in my stomach had become unbearable. ‘Mr Holmes, are you planning to give me away?’
    ‘ Pshaw!’ He wave d his hand impatiently. ‘Although I gather it is quite a complicated issue. You don’t fancy going to India, I presume.’ The latter wasn’t as much a question as a statement.
    ‘ Obviously I don’t.’
    He probably did not know that obtaining a medical degree in Germany was still forbidden for women. If my true identity were revealed, I would lose my occupation and my British residency, would be deported and end up in a German jail. My alternative, although I did not consider it one, would be to go to India. The few British women who had recently managed to get a medical degree had eventually given in to the mounting social pressure and had left for India, out of the way of the exclusively male medical establishment. To the best of my knowledge I was representing the only exception.
    ‘ I had hoped it would not be as evident,’ I answered quietly.
    ‘ It is evident only to me. I fancy myself as rather observant.’
    ‘ So I’ve noticed. Yet, you are still here, despite the fact that this case appears to bore you. I wonder why that is.’
    ‘ I haven’t formed an opinion, yet. But it does indeed seem to be a rather dull case. I wonder…’ Thoughtfully, he gazed at me and I realised that he stayed to analyse me . I was representing a curiosity!
    ‘ What made you change your identity?’ he enquired and his face lighted up with great interest.
    ‘ That’s none of your business, Mr Holmes.’ My suspicion was confirmed.
    Suddenly, his expression changed as his modus operandi switched to analysis and after a minute he seemed to have reached a conclusion. ‘I dare say that guild was the culprit.’
    ‘ What?’
    ‘ As women weren’t allowed a higher education a few years ago, you had to cut your hair and disguise yourself as a man to be able to study medicine. But the intriguing question remains: Why did you accept such drastic measures for a degree? Your accent is evident;