The Case of the Misplaced Models. Tessa Barding

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СКАЧАТЬ firm handshake and her eyes held mine in a direct gaze. ‘I understand a flat-share would be agreeable to you?’

      ‘That would depend on the tenants,’ she said and gestured for us to follow her inside. ‘The flat we’re talking about is upstairs.’

      I eyed the narrow staircase. Tony noticed and asked, ‘Will you be all right with that?’

      ‘Of course I will be,’ I replied. ‘It’s an artificial knee, Tony, not a prosthetic limb.’

      It had actually been a shattered shinbone along with a shattered knee that had ended my military career, and while my new knee cooperated nicely, the lower leg still caused problems every now and then, especially in cold and wet weather. The handrail looked sturdy enough, however, and I should be all right even on a bad leg day.

      ‘War injury,’ I told Mrs Hudson who gave me a questioning look. ‘Stairs have lost some of their appeal since then, but this looks manageable.’

      She nodded and we followed her upstairs. The door was open, and a short and narrow hallway led into the living room where a tall man stood with his back to the door, looking out of the window. He was wearing a black leather jacket, black trousers and a pair of well-worn Dr. Martens. When he heard us coming, he turned around.

      ‘Dr Watson,’ he said with a crooked grin. ‘We meet again.’

      CHAPTER THREE

      I noticed I was gaping and closed my mouth.

      ‘I had no idea you two know each other,’ Tony said. ‘Well, that will make things a lot easier, won’t it?’

      ‘We don’t really know each other,’ I replied. ‘He showed up this morning at the practice, I patched him up and that’s about it.’

      ‘Oh, Sherlock, what have you done now?’ Tony looked dismayed. ‘You didn’t tell me you had an accident. What happened?’

      So Sherlock Holmes was his real name after all. I could have sworn he’d made it up.

      ‘Nothing to worry about. All good. Dr Watson has done a very fine job indeed.’

      He grinned at me. ‘I believe proper introductions are in order now that we’re considering a flat-share. I’m Sherlock Holmes, and I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Dr Watson.’

      He held out his hand like a good little boy and I took it, half expecting him to bow, given that he seemed on his best behaviour.

      ‘John Watson.’

      He didn’t bow, merely nodded his head, and his eyes scanned me from head to toe, making me feel like an insect under a microscope. Apparently I wasn’t found lacking because he nodded again and let go of my hand.

      ‘Shall we?’

      ‘Shall we what?’ I asked.

      ‘Look at the flat?’

      ‘Oh. Yes. Of course.’ I turned around to where Mrs Hudson was standing, the look of disapproval still lingering on her face. ‘Do you have time to give us a tour or should we look around ourselves?’

      She checked her wristwatch. ‘I guess a quick tour would be in order.’

      Sherlock flashed her the same winning smile he had bestowed on Jen this morning. ‘Thank you very much. I promise we will not delay you, and you will make your dinner appointment in time.’

      ‘My…how did you know I had a dinner appointment?’ She narrowed her eyes.

      ‘Your make-up is immaculate and hasn’t settled into creases yet which tells me you’ve either just applied it or thoroughly touched it up. Your shoes and nylons are dry and clean despite the fact that it’s rained all afternoon. Just look at Dr Watson’s trouser legs, for example.’

      I looked down. There were splashes all over my trousers which was hardly surprising. I had come here by bike, after all.

      Sherlock rattled off a few more things about jewellery, how the faint rustle of her nylons indicated she had just put them on, her choice of perfume, and the way she had done up her hair until Mrs Hudson raised her hands in protest.

      ‘Thank you, that’s quite enough, Mr Holmes. With your permission, I should like to show you the flat now.’

      And it was a nice flat, too. The living room was partially furnished with two comfortable looking armchairs and a set of bookshelves. It had a fireplace, and images of sitting by a cosy fire, reading or relaxing, danced through my mind. I liked the idea.

      A nice kitchen with enough room to put a table into, and the bathroom had a claw foot bathtub with a shower head. I preferred taking a shower over bubble baths anytime but the claw foot model did have a certain charm. The rather improvised shower head construction needed to go, though. I would change that to something sturdier and add a shower curtain, too.

      Two bedrooms, one across from the living room with a built-in wardrobe, and the second one could be reached via some chicken ladder-like construction that I didn’t like at all.

      ‘I’ll take the upstairs bedroom,’ Sherlock said when we reached the living room again. ‘It’ll be no good for your knee, and I’ll have access to the roof.’

      I shot a glance at Mrs Hudson, hoping she had missed the last remark. She was busy exchanging pleasantries with Tony and, from what I overheard, he was doing his best to smooth her still-ruffled feathers. Bless him and his soft heart. He couldn’t bear people to be unhappy around him.

      ‘How do you know about my knee?’ I asked Sherlock, wondering what had given me away.

      ‘You favoured your left leg when you climbed down,’ he said and added, as if on second thought, ‘And I caught your remark about an old war injury before you came upstairs.’

      ‘I see. Thank you. But the room is smaller than the other one.’

      Sherlock shrugged. ‘It’s big enough for a bed, a lamp and a small wardrobe. Mind letting me use a third of yours? Wardrobe, I mean?’

      ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘I don’t have an awful lot of clothes.’

      Mrs Hudson turned around. ‘Well? What do you think?’

      ‘I like it,’ I said. ‘It’s a very nice flat. Would you consider renting it to the two of us?’

      She didn’t reply right away, pursed her lips and gave Sherlock a long, thoughtful stare. After a moment, she sighed. ‘Very well. Here’s what I will need of you.’

      She produced two sheets of paper from the slim briefcase she had tucked under her arm and handed them to us. I glanced over mine. Proof of identity, employment status, credit records, references…the usual. Sherlock folded his copy and put it into his inside pocket without looking at it.

      ‘My brother will be in touch,’ he said, as if that explained all. ‘I play the violin. Is that going to be a problem?’

      ‘No,’ Mrs Hudson replied. ‘This is an old house with thick walls. Any pets?’

      I СКАЧАТЬ