The Problem of Threadneedle Street (The Assassination of Sherlock Holmes Book 2) by Craig Janacek

certainly would not have told him my real name. Could you not have been Dr. Hill Barton one last time?”
    “Why is my name of importance?”
    He laughed merrily. “Come now, Doctor. Surely if my name is known far and wide, so then is the man whose words thrust that fame upon me. If the groundskeeper is crooked, he now knows the game is up.”
    “So you do believe that the groundskeeper is involved? Could the gold be kept in the shed?” I asked excitedly. “We should be off at once!”
    Holmes shook his head. “There are serious objections to that theory, Watson. From your description it sounds far too small to serve such a purpose. And in any case, by the time we reached Lambeth, whatever was in that shed will have long been moved. Presuming, of course, that the groundskeeper is involved in the plot at all.”
    “But his attitude was so suspicious!” I protested.
    “And that is why you should not have hesitated to force his hand. You should never have left without finding a way to see the inside of that shed, Watson. I can think of seven methods you might have employed. Only then could we know for certain whether or not he is one of the men that we seek. He may be involved in some completely unrelated, but equally nefarious activity, or simply be a deeply suspicious and violent individual.”
    “But you agree that there is a possibility that he is involved? Is this robbery some ecclesiastical spat between the bishops?”
    “Hardly that, Watson. Even if we could admit the prospect of the Archbishop of Canterbury ordering a theft from his rival at St. Paul’s, it is inconceivable that he would plunder the Bank of England. No, if your groundskeeper is involved, he is acting as an independent agent. He would not be the first servant, embittered after years of labor at a house where a single painting may be worth more than his life’s savings, to jump at the first prospect of some easy coin. And what easier than to let some generous stranger store their items in the little-used garden shed for the span of a few days, no questions asked?”
    “That is a plausible theory.”
    “It is more than plausible. I think that I shall have a few of my irregulars follow your groundskeeper for a few days, just to see if he can lead us to any other individuals of interest.”
    “Then my investigation was not in vain.” I was proud to think that I had so far mastered his system as to apply it in a way which earned his approval.
    He shook his head again. “I am afraid, Watson, that you benefitted from no small amount of Fortune. It was most propitious that Mr. Sherman happened to walk Falstaff in a northerly direction and not the opposite.”
    “And you have never profited from Luck, Holmes?”
    “Never. I find the very concept abhorrent.”
    “What about the murder of Eduardo Lucas? Without his unhappy wife, where would those letters be? Would the Premier still be in your debt?”
    “A touch, Watson – a veritable touch,” said he, laughing.
    “I say, Holmes, what if they floated the gold to the Thames, and then either up or down the river on a string of lighters? That would be simplicity itself, especially if they are using the grounds of the riverside Lambeth Palace as a sanctuary.”
    “Very good, Watson. It was in fact the very first possibility that I considered. It even occurred to Gregson, who has the men of the Thames Division combing its entire navigable length. Since the solitary river folk are notoriously averse to talking to the representatives of the government, I also have several less official forces in the field.”
    “Surely your irregulars must be grown men by now? Have you recruited other poor souls to take their place? What would the Children’s Charter say?”
    Holmes shook his head. “While I much applaud the efforts of the Premier and his liberal government, the reforms do not go far enough. There are still plenty of urchins left on our streets and larks in our mud.”
    “If you are so