You need more Sherlock? You love the stories of The Canon but you want more . . . more stories that are similar to the original sixty. You have come to the right place.
The Adventure of the Winchester Heart-Breaker:
To the man who loves intellectual stimulation," remarked Sherlock Holmes, "London in August is the lowliest month on the calendar. Those with the means to do so have departed for the Algarve and the Riviera. Those without are off to Blackpool and Brighton.
And what about those," I asked, "who are left behind? You and I are still here.
You at least have your sensational accounts of my efforts to keep scribbling. I, on the other hand, am losing faith in the enterprising criminal class. They appear to have faded into the great unobservant public and are somnambulating about the city, doing nothing more than stealing lead pencils from blind beggars.
The Adventure of the Winchester Heart-Breaker:
To the man who loves intellectual stimulation," remarked Sherlock Holmes, "London in August is the lowliest month on the calendar. Those with the means to do so have departed for the Algarve and the Riviera. Those without are off to Blackpool and Brighton.
And what about those," I asked, "who are left behind? You and I are still here.
You at least have your sensational accounts of my efforts to keep scribbling. I, on the other hand, am losing faith in the enterprising criminal class. They appear to have faded into the great unobservant public and are somnambulating about the city, doing nothing more than stealing lead pencils from blind beggars.
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You need more Sherlock? You love the stories of The Canon but you want more . . . more stories that are similar to the original sixty. You have come to the right place.
The Singular Tragedy of the Atkinson Brothers at Trincomalee:
The words of the missionary hymn I had sung as a schoolboy in chapel came to my mind as I stood on the deck of the steamer Redolent, anchored just off the Port of Colombo. They were to prove singularly prescient. Under more usual circumstances, the experience of looking up into the star-studded sky whilst feeling the warm, moist tropical breezes caress one's face is a sensuous joy. Yet on that night, more than twenty years ago now, I had a profound sense of foreboding.
The Singular Tragedy of the Atkinson Brothers at Trincomalee:
The words of the missionary hymn I had sung as a schoolboy in chapel came to my mind as I stood on the deck of the steamer Redolent, anchored just off the Port of Colombo. They were to prove singularly prescient. Under more usual circumstances, the experience of looking up into the star-studded sky whilst feeling the warm, moist tropical breezes caress one's face is a sensuous joy. Yet on that night, more than twenty years ago now, I had a profound sense of foreboding.