The Sherlock Holmes Megapack: 25 Modern Tales by Masters. Michael Kurland

known to exist. But a squid processes a beak, which has been duly compared to that of a bird. Then I thought of the find in New Zealand seven years ago. When Paxton looked at the photographs of the severed arm and denied any knowledge of it, I knew we had our man. The impressions of the creature’s suction cups alone should have elicited comment. The arm itself was released unknowingly through the grotto’s door, upon one of Paxton’s admitted daily cleansings.”

      “Amazing,” said Lestrade.

      Lestrade and Dunbar got into the wagon, as did Holmes and I, and we started off, back to the village.

      * * * *

      The next morning, we checked out of the inn, and were met at the train station by Katherine Collier. She thanked us profusely for clearing her father of the murder charges. Then Holmes and I climbed aboard the train, and it pulled out of the Harbourton station.

      We were well on our way back to London, when I turned to Holmes and said, “So, Paxton’s men had been ordered to find cows to feed the creature?”

      “Yes, and poor Mr Harris happened to stumble upon them one night as they were engaged in the act of stealing a couple of his Guernseys and paid the ultimate price. Since he had been their first human casualty, they weren’t sure what to do with him, and decided to bring him back to their master.

      “Paxton then, it seems, had the idea that fat men might, shall we say, round out the creature’s diet. My examination of the suspect’s wagon wheels proved that his vehicle hadn’t been employed in the crime. The wheel tracks were not deep enough to account for the additional weight of Harris, Paxton’s men, and the cows.”

      “The cows?”

      “That’s correct. Paxton had his men inject them with a tranquilliser in order to take them clandestinely. That’s why none of the local farmers or anyone else ever saw or heard any of them being abducted. They were unconscious and lying flat in a wagon.

      “For the same reasons, I knew that Edmund Collier couldn’t have done it either. His wagon was too small, and the ground showed no signs of being employed in such a venture. However, on the way to the siege tunnel, Watson, you lost your footing in the deep impressions of Paxton’s wagon tracks. And we’ve previously discussed the absurdity of Collier lifting Harris.”

      “What a vile and horrible evil lived within Paxton,” I said.

      “Odd how evil can sometimes cohabit very amiably with genius.”

      “And Paxton’s house?” I asked, “You knew it as if you’d lived there.”

      “You can thank my brother Mycroft for that. After I left you yesterday morning, I sent him a telegram with instructions to contact one of his highly placed Masonic associates. The house dates back five hundred years, and as a result, I suspected it would have a siege tunnel. Mycroft received the architectural plans immediately, then dispatched them by courier, whom I met at the train station.”

      “This was quite a singular adventure, to say the least.”

      “Perhaps, you’d do well not to relay this one to the public, Watson. I wouldn’t want your readers to think that you’d taken to flights of fancy like those of the French novelist, Jules Verne.”

      “You have a good point,” I said as I watched Holmes light his pipe and stare out the window at the passing countryside.

      I looked through the opposite window while I pondered the fate of Dr Paxton. With his death, what great discoveries would the world be deprived of? Then I thought of the creature and its return to the primordial waters from which it had come. Would humanity ever see its like again? Or was it destined to remain an elusive phantom for all eternity?

      I was reminded of something that Sherlock Holmes had once said to me upon the completion of another case. “With even the most satisfying answers, there are always more questions.”