The Adventure of the Curse of Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes; that honour is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's estate--well, some of it's pretty free-domain, but whatever. XD

KS: Welcome to the fifth chapter of The Adventure of the Curse of Two. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far as to continue reading! Please, don't forget to review at the end!

I'm sorry if this fic seems a little short; I was really hoping for it to be longer. But, unfortunately, I've made it far too easy for Mr. Holmes to solve. XD

The next mystery should be longer...well, really that depends on which I post next. I might let you choose once this one is concluded. :D

Enjoy!

We walked quietly along the foggy, gas-lit streets, the task ahead of us weighing sombrely on our minds.

It was a cool, damp night, and we had our great-coats on in defence of the chill. We were not in a cab, though our destination was some distance away. Holmes had said that we had best walk.

I felt that it was a bold person, indeed, that would murder so many, especially since they were possibly going to risk killing more to-night, when the police were so deep into the matter.

Soon we were at the Chatterton's home, and Holmes gazed up at the windows—one or two were lit on the ground floor, and just one on the first. He looked back at me and without a word motioned me to follow.

He slipped through the darkness as silently as a jungle cat and made his way to a side entrance.

"This," he said in a low whisper to explain my unasked question, "is the servant's entrance." He listened for a moment, and then pulled out the pouch of tools he had brought along and proceeded to break into the house.

I was nervous—as I always was when my friend decided to break the law for justice's sake—and kept a sharp eye out for danger.

I heard a soft click, and Holmes suddenly rose. I had thought that he had succeeded in unlocking the door, but even in the light I could discern the pallor and surprise on his features. He quickly grabbed my arm and dragged me after himself into the deepest, darkest of the shadows. No sooner than we had moved did the side door open and out stepped a dark figure.

The person looked one way and the other before walking away from us toward the back of the house. We hadn't been spotted. Holmes jumped up without hesitation and began to follow, keeping close to the shadows of the side of the house.

We watched as the figure moved through the dim light toward the dog kennel, and drew close as the person stooped low. We were close enough now that I could see that it was a man, and that they had a small phial of something and was about to pour its contents into the water dish of the remaining dog, who had approached and was happily wagging its tail.

"Mr. Charles Chatterton," Holmes said firmly. The man addressed stood quickly and spun around in utter surprise. There was a dull glint of light in the darkness.

"Holmes!" I gasped. I pulled out my revolver and fired, and so did Charles.

The latter fell to the ground with a shout, and my friend leapt forward like a tiger and tore the gun from his hands.

"Holmes!" I gasped again. "You aren't hurt?"

My friend stood, eyeing the gun now in his hand. "No, it missed, thankfully. I cannot say the same for Mr. Chatterton here. Your aim and timing were impeccable, Watson."

I knelt beside the injured man and saw I had shot him in the leg—not too serious of a wound, but it would need to be treated immediately.

The din of the two shots had roused the house, and by now the other brother and the servants were now running over to where we were.

"Mr. Holmes!" said the brother William, "What is all this—Charles! Charles! Why, you're hurt!"

Holmes looked down upon the wounded man. "Mr. Chatterton, I regret to inform you that your brother is the murderer. In fact, he was just about to kill your other hound, and I have no doubt that eventually you would have fallen victim as well."

William looked incredulously at his brother. "Charles! Tell me he's not serious!"

Charles looked up with a scowl at Holmes. "It's a lie—pure rubbish!"

"We'll see about that, Mr. Chatterton." Holmes said. He turned to the stable boys. "Help Dr. Watson to take him inside."

After we went inside and got the criminal Charles settled on the sofa, we left the stable boys and maid to watch him as Holmes was led to his room by William.

When inside, my friend immediately set to searching. With his extreme perceptiveness and intuition he quickly discovered a small box, concealed under a floor board, and he pried open the locked lid with his pocket knife. Both William and I looked inside and saw a large collection of the same red thorns that Holmes had found earlier in the dead maid's bed.

"What are they, Mr. Holmes?" William asked.

"These are the death weapons," Holmes replied thoughtfully. "We found one earlier in the maid's bed. They are poisoned, but it is an exotic poison—apparently undetectable by current autopsy."

He closed the box.

"Mr. Chatterton, if you will follow me into the sitting-room, I shall clear this up for you."

KS: There! Did you guess who it was beforehand? I told you it was too easy! xDD

Stay tuned for the denouement