Sherlock Holmes: The Coils of Time & Other Stories (Sherlock Holmes Adventures Book 1) by Ralph Vaughan

large silver coin.  “An’ if’n we hears more, I’ll finds you.”
    Kent scowled as the lad swaggered into the darkness and mist.  “God, how he murders the Queen’s English!”
    “Not a crime, fortunately,” Holmes observed, “else most of Britain and half the aristocracy would be in gaol.”
    “He’ll put that money to bad use,” Kent said.  “Him and the other ‘Irregulars.’  I’m surprised you use children to nark for you.”
    “These children would prowl the streets anyway, the streets being safer than any home they might have,” Holmes explained.  “I provide a purpose to their prowling, let them become, if only for awhile, agents for order.  If I am doing anything wrong, it is asking them to support the social system which keeps them in their places, keeps whole generations in abject poverty.  If the pittance I allow them for their valuable services is used for ill, then they are no worse off, but no one has been harmed and no windows have been broken in the night to gain needed money; but some lad might use the money for the betterment of himself or his family’s lot, and that benefits indirectly the society that scorns him.”
    Kent shook his head and sighed.  “I did not take you for a social crusader, Mr Holmes.”
    “My field is crime and all its ramifications, Inspector,” Holmes replied.  “That includes, of course, its causes.”
    “Crime cannot be ended by giving away money.”
    “Obviously not,” Holmes agreed.  “But, at the same time, it is painfully clear poverty is the root of most crime plaguing our metropolis.  People steal because they are in need, murder because they want to possess.  If the root of crime could be done away with, not by gifting money but by actually bettering their lot in life, then London would be almost crime free.”
    Kent chuckled.  “You would do men like us out of a job, Mr Holmes.”
    “Not at all, Inspector,” Holmes countered.  “Negating the crimes of necessity would only make our jobs more interesting and rewarding, for there would remain the misdeeds of those born to do evil.”  He thought of the glint in the eyes of Colonel Moran earlier.  “Evil will always be with us, for it is a part of us.”
    “Do you think Maddoc is the dark man’s name?” Kent asked.
    “Maddoc is a name of Welsh origin and our man’s speech does mark him as coming from that region,” Holmes conceded.
    “And what about what he was heard muttering?” Kent asked.  “What do you make of that?”
    “Not much, I fear,” Holmes replied after a moment.  “No, nothing.”
    “What I’m worried about is the scope of the Vanishments,” Kent said, frowning at Holmes’ uncharacteristic hesitancy.  “I knew the problem was more widespread than my superiors were ready to admit, but it seems your little Irregulars have ranged the whole of London and found it everywhere, followed closely by this Maddoc.  If we can get hold of him, I’m sure we can lay both the Vanishments and the East End Ghosts to rest, and find young Dunning to boot.”
    “I sincerely wish it were that easy, Inspector,” Holmes said, “but Maddoc is not the remedy of the plague, though he may turn out to be the cause.”
    Kent shook his head.  “I don’t follow you.”
    “He is searching as desperately as are we, but from an opposite tact,” Holmes explained.  “We are trying to find and perhaps rescue William Dunning by penetrating the veil of ignorance covering the Vanishments.  He appears to be tracking the source of the Vanishments by enquiring after the victims and following the appearances of the Ghosts.”
    “As if he possesses a certainty of knowledge,” Kent murmured.  “But how does that make him the cause of either the Ghosts or the Vanishments, or both?  If they are as linked as we suspect.”
    “If I had any doubt before, the common link of Maddoc sealed the connection,” Holmes replied.  “As to his role, consider the state of the man we