Chapter Two
Mr. Henry B. Penport

Inspector Lestrade was not in his office when Mr. Sherlock Holmes and myself had arrived at Scotland Yard precisely an hour after leaving the British Museum. Holmes again surprised me by dutifully sitting down in one of the large armchairs facing Lestrade's desk to wait. I myself remained standing.

I watched Holmes out of the corner of my eye, keenly aware that something was amiss. Never before had I witnessed such behavior by my long time friend and companion. Holmes was rude to a point of madness, blunter than a drunken sailor and rarely in the mood to ever sit down in Lestrade's office to wait for him. Silently I pretended to study the photos and post clippings that covered the wall.

One clipping caught my eye in particular. The title read, "Dr. Henry Penport Missing". His name was familiar. I remember reading an article about how the very same Pre-dynastic mummy Holmes and I had viewed this morning, in which Dr. Henry Penport had been credited with finding the said mummy.

"Holmes," I said, gingerly pulling the clipping from the wall, "you should really take a look at this. The man in questions is the one who found your mummy." He took the paper from my hands and began to read aloud:

"Dr. Henry G. Penport, head antiquities curator for the British
museum, went missing a fortnight ago. He was last scene by colleagues
at the Museum, when he arrived to celebrate the acquisition of an
ancient Sumerian sculpture. Fowl play has not been ruled out, however,
sources say that there have been recent thefts at the Museum and Dr.
Penport's disappearance is highly suspicious."

"Interesting," Holmes said quietly, "However, I do not believe Dr. Penport a thief. The man is highly dedicated to protecting the antiquities acquired by the Museum, from being owned by private collectors."

"How can you be so sure?" I asked.

"I met the man in question several years ago. At the time I was working on a minor case involving a stolen nine thousand year old statue of a Buddha. I have always prided myself on my judge of character." Holmes replied while placing the clipping back to its original place on the wall.

"Mr. Holmes!" Inspector Lestrade suddenly appeared in the doorway of his office. He shook Holmes hand and then took mine. I noticed Lestrade was unusually un-kept. "I apologize for my tardiness, " he said looking at his pocket watch, "We have had a bit of difficulty down stairs."

"Nothing to worry about," I assured him, "We've not been waiting long." Holmes said nothing.

"Dr. Watson could you please shut the door?" Holmes asked tartly. I nodded and shut the door. Immediately afterwards, Holmes reached into his jacket pocket and produced the jade snake. "I found this," handing the snake to Lestrade, "this morning in the mummy that was recently acquired by the British Museum."

"Amazing! It's just like the other five." Lestrade cried, turning the jade snake over and over in his hands, "However, this only complicates matters." he looked up expectedly at Holmes.

"My knowledge of the Egyptian culture is somewhat lacking. I however have deduced that the object you hold in your hand, was a charm, probably associated with one of the many snake Gods of that period." Holmes said matter-oh-factly.

"Hm," Lestrade handed the jade snake back over to Holmes who subsequently put it back in his jacket pocket. "I presume you will be seeing Cunningham about this?"

"Of course," Holmes shrugged, "To other matters though, I would like to see the most recent victim if I might?" I groaned inwardly. I had seen much over my years with Holmes, and even more on the battlefields in my youth. Death was nothing knew to me, nor were the remains of individuals. However, I did not look forwards to such occasions to where I would be face to face with Death. "Come Watson, we do not have much time." As always, I followed dutifully.

Mr. David P. Parkinson was the most recent death that was associated with the mummy. He was young, which surprised me for I believed all curators to be wizened old men, such as my self, but I was also saddened by his death. His youth was now lost, he would not have the pleasure and daunting experience of growing old.

Holmes had not been exaggerating when he mentioned the two puncture wounds above the bridge of the nose, that had accompanied all of the victims. Indeed there were two small holes, precisely an inch apart from one anther, on the young mans forehead. Holmes began examining the body.

"Quite a puzzler, if I do say so myself," Dr. Henry Connors, a short and plump gentleman, commented. "I've had a devil of time trying to figure out what killed him."

"Heart failure maybe?" I suggested, though there were none of the outwardly physical signs that accompanied strokes.

"Not that I could find." he replied thoughtfully, "All of Mr. Parkinson's organs were intact. There were no blood clots or hemorrhages. He didn't drown, suffocate, nor was there anything that might suggest poison."

"What about these two puncture wounds?" Holmes questioned.

"Those to are a mystery." Connors produced a toothpick with several dark markings on it, "Each hole is about an inch, inch and a half deep. I have seen wounds similar to this one, but never on the head before."

"Snake bites." I said quietly. Connors nodded. I remember my days in India and one chance meeting my regiment and I had had with a King Cobra. One of the men had been bitten. His skin around the wound had quickly turned purple and he complained that it "stung something fierce". One of our native guides had tried to suck the poison out from the young man's leg. However he had failed and it killed the gentleman. "Mr. Parkinson, to receive such a bite, would of had to be face to face with the snake. However, there is no sign of swelling or agitation, which you would find if he had been bitten by a snake."

"I would have deduced that myself, had he been the only individual with those specific puncture marks exactly above the bridge of his nose. However, he is not, which leads us to a quandary. What could of caused such wounds and why there?" Holmes said thoughtfully.

"A two pronged murder weapon perhaps?" Dr. Connors speculated.

"No. If such a weapon were used, it would have had to have been thrust through the skin. In that scenario, the weapon would have punctured the skull most likely, but it didn't. There is also no sign of forced entry into the skin, as there would be otherwise." Holmes remarked.

My curiosity was pricked. I moved next to Holmes and peered down at the wounds. Several inches above the wound, was a long thing indent in the skin. It reminded me of the line left behind when a hat that had been worn for some time was finally taken off. "A hat or head piece maybe?" I ventured. Holmes nodded.

"I believe so. There is a slight indentation just several millimeters above the wounds. It is a thin line that circles the width of the forehead, much like a hat would leave upon the wearer." Holmes pointed to the almost invisible line. "However I can not be sure until I have examine the other four bodies." Holmes looked up at Connors.

"I'm sorry Mr. Holmes, but that will be quite impossible. Three of the five in question have been buried by their families, while the fourth has been cremated at the request of his Last Will and Testament. " Connors informed us. Holmes did not look pleased.

After a long pause, Holmes asked, "Were pictures by any chance taken? Or sketches draw of the crime scene?"

"Of course Mr. Holmes." Connors replies.

"I would very much like to see them then." Holmes said while washing his hands in one of the water basins. Then he donned his jacket and hat.

While we strode to Lestrade's off, Holmes pulled out his pipe from a pocket, filled it and lit it. "Something is troubling me about this whole matter Holmes," I finally expressed as we walked down the long halls of Scotland Yard. "Is it not policy to keep the bodies of murder victim for a reasonable amount of time so that a proper investigation can be had, before releasing them to their respected families? The first murder was less then a fortnight ago!"

"Quiet right Watson." Holmes replied, "There is something amiss, and I intend to find out what it is."

Upon reaching Lestrade's office, we were surprised to find there had been another murder. Lestrade informed us that the deceased in question had been found at precisely ten o'clock in the very room Holmes and I had been in just this morning at the British Museum.

Unceremoniously, Lestrade handed Holmes what looked to be a coroner's report. "He was found just like the other five. Everything's the same, however this time there was this," Lestrade produced a white snake that was almost identical to the jade one in Holmes's jacket pocket.

"Interesting," Holmes mumbled quietly, then handed me the paper. My eyes were immediately drawn to the name of the deceased: Mr. Emit F. Gregory.