The Game is not afoot and the Better-Ever-Day World of 1895 is gone, even hard to recall as WWI ends. From his rural cottage, Holmes no longer provokes Scotland Yard’s envy or his landlady’s impatience, but neither is he content with the study of bees. August 1920 finds him filling our entry papers at a nearly defunct psychiatric clinic on the Normandy coast. England’s new Dangerous Drugs Act declares his cocaine use illegal and he aims to quit entirely. Confronted by a question as to his treatment goals, Holmes hesitates, aware that his real goal far exceeds the capacity of any clinic. His scribbled response, “no more solutions, but one true resolution,” seems more a vow than a goal to his psychiatrist, Pierre Joubert. The doctor is right. Like a tiny explosion unaccountably shifting a far-reaching landscape, the simple words churn desperate action and interlocking mystery into the lives of Holmes’ friends and enemies both.
READ AN EXCERPT:
Holmes speaks, Watson answers:
“It’s clear, Watson, that you have come to trust this man,
never mind your fancy knot work.” He let a hand rest briefly on Joubert’s
shoulder, and then snatched it away. “The charade you two gentleman have just
now performed causes me to question myself. You are evidently in collusion.”
I said, “We were that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so,” Holmes said. “In fact, when I have time, I
will publish a monograph on what I will call ‘body language.’ Today’s
performance will serve as a prime example. I watched you usher this Frenchman
across the cottage—your hesitation, your caution lest you cause him the least
pain, was evident. Your care was exactly as you would grant a lifelong patient
going through a complicated procedure. You watched his every backward step,
lest he trip. I noted the commiserating tilt of your head—and the lines of
concern on your brow. Without a single word, you managed to signal your
sympathy. To sum up, between the gun and the man you pointed it at, I detected
at least a hundred yards worth of high-grade Watsonian scruple.
Holmes glared down at the top of Joubert’s head. “No doubt
the entire Punch and Judy was your conception, Pierre, but you could not hide
your concern for Watson, how you sought to assure him that it was all for a
worthy purpose. Indeed, I saw you shudder and sweat, but you were in no fear
for your life—in no dread of John Watson, at least. I submit to you both, that
what I have witnessed just now was more a dance than an arrest.”
PURCHASE HERE!
I received a digital copy of this book from the author through Goddess Fish Promotions. This review contains my honest opinions, which I have not been compensated for in any way.
Susanne M. Dutton will be awarding a $75 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
Posts
