The Dragon Turn: The Boy Sherlock Holmes , His 5th Case
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Sherlock Holmes and Irene Doyle are as riveted as the rest of the audience. They are celebrating Irene's sixteenth birthday at the Egyptian Hall as Alistair Hemsworth produces a real and very deadly dragon before their eyes. This single, fantastic illusion elevates the previously unheralded magician to star status, making him the talk of London. He even outshines the Wizard of Nottingham, his rival on and off the stage.
Sherlock and Irene rush backstage after the show to meet the great man, only to witness Inspector Lestrade and his son arrest the performer. It seems one-upmanship has not been as satisfying to Hemsworth as the notion of murder. The Wizard is missing; his spectacles and chunks of flesh have been discovered in pools of blood in Hemsworth's secret workshop. That, plus the fact that Nottingham has stolen Hemsworth's wife away, speak of foul play and motive. There is no body, but there has certainly been a grisly death.
The Lestrades are certain they have their man, but ever-observant Sherlock is not so sure. Night visits to the workshop turn up clues that don't add up to a closed case. The deeper Holmes digs, the more this mystery becomes an illusion; a deadly game of smoke and mirrors. Before it plays out, the boy will have to consider far more than Hemsworth's guilt or innocence. He may even come to believe in magic and the existence of dragons.
“I always carry zis late at night.” There is silence for a moment. Holmes begins to sweat. The knife handle feels slippery in his hand. He thinks he hears something, a sort of rustling, coming from the inner chamber down the stairs. “I tease you, my boy,” says the man, putting the gun away. “But you should not be here. Come. I shall escort you back to ze main room. I know ze hocus-pocus that will move ze vall again. It is another button on ze inside!” “Your name, sir,” says Sherlock, still
terrible mistake. I am at a loss as to where to start. I have already been to the crime scene — twice. That may have served only to lead me in the wrong direction. I have also been told, in no uncertain terms, never to go back there. It will be closely guarded from now on.” “Hmm. Here we have Hemsworth, the man who appears to have done it, the perfect candidate, anyway … but nothing to tie him to it.” “And no body.” “Yes, that is curious, my boy. Did Nottingham just vanish? You saw the scene.
doesn’t follow you, my agent,” says Scuttle. “You will recall, Irene, that backstage and in the hallways of the theater while Hemsworth is in residence, there are very few people about. In fact, other than Venus, who leaves the moment she is done, and the ten musicians who appear to gather up their instruments and depart out the front doors, there is no one.” “Why is that significant? Aren’t magicians secretive?” asks Beatrice. “Doesn’t it make sense that they don’t want others around their
the last eighteen months, he has almost chased after pickpockets he’s spotted plying their trade in the thick London crowds — oh, to run them to the ground … and apply a little Bellitsu to their craniums! To see Malefactor again! The brilliant young gang leader has vanished from the streets, his nasty Trafalgar Square Irregulars scattered. Once or twice recently Sherlock has seen Grimsby, on his own now, still looking dark and evil, not having grown an inch. But the little villain always averts
seconds, it is just an outline on its boat in the water, nearly beyond sight, going east and picking up speed, toward the North Sea and the ocean. “Is there something out there?” asks one officer, squinting into the night. Downriver, on the next wharf, Sherlock sees the silhouettes of three figures watching the dragon drift by. One wears a black tailcoat. Hemsworth stares across the rainy river toward the sea. “It remembers,” he repeats. FINAL ACT It takes Sherlock Holmes a few minutes to