"Vonda N. McIntyre - The Adventure of the Field Theorems" - читать интересную книгу автора (McIntyre Vonda N)

Holmes recognized my comment with a brief smile, for I had often said as much to him about his
practice of detection.
"But it is true, Watson," Holmes said, serious once more. "Anyone could achieve the same effect--
were they willing to dedicate their lives to developing the methods, to studying the methods, to perfecting
the methods! Then it is 'so simple.'"
When Holmes deigned to lead an amazed observer through his deductive reasoning, the observer's
reaction was invariably the same: His methods were "perfectly obvious"; anyone, including the observer,
could duplicate them with ease.
"Conan Doyle claims friendship with Houdini," Holmes said in disgust, "and yet he insults his friend. He
dismisses Houdini's hard work and ingenuity. Despite Houdini's denials, Conan Doyle attributes Houdini's
success to the supernatural. As if Houdini himself had very little to do with it! What a great fool, this
Conan Doyle."
"Easy on," I said. "Sir Arthur is an intelligent man, a brave man. An inspired man! His imagination is
every bit as exalted as that of Wells! His Professor Challenger stories compare favorably to War of the
Worlds-- "
"I never read fiction," Holmes said. "A failing for which you berate me continually. If I did read fiction,
I would not doubly waste my time with the scientific romances you find so compelling. Nor am I
interested in the mad fantasies of a spiritualist." Holmes scowled through a dense cloud of pipe smoke.
"The man photographs fairies in his garden."
"You are too much the materialist, Holmes," I said. "With my own eyes I saw amazing things,
unbelievable things, in Afghanistan -- "
"Ancient sleight of hand. Snake charming. The rope trick!" He laughed again, though without the
hysterical overtones of his previous outburst. "Ah, Watson, I envy you your innocence."
I was about to object to his implications when he stayed my comment by holding up one hand.
"Mrs. Hudson is here-- "
"-- with our tea," I said. "Hardly deserves the word 'deduction,' as her footsteps are plainly audible,
and it is, after all, tea-time-- "
"-- to announce a client."
Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, knocked and opened the door. "Gentleman to see you, Mr. Holmes," she
said. "Shall I set an extra cup?"
The figure of a man loomed behind her in the shadows.
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," Holmes said. "That would be most kind."
Mrs. Hudson placed a calling card on the tray by the doorway. Holmes rose to his feet, but did not
trouble to read the card. As our visitor entered I rose as well, and made to greet him, but Holmes spoke
first.
"I observe, Dr. Conan Doyle," Holmes said coolly, "that you were called abruptly into the fields, and
have spent the morning investigating the mystery of the damaged crops. Investigating without success, I
might add. Has a new field theorem appeared?"
Conan Doyle laughed heartily, his voice booming from his powerful chest.
"So you've introduced me already, John!" he said to me. "You were looking out the window when my
carriage arrived, I've no doubt." He smiled at Holmes. "Not such a clever deduction, Mr. Holmes." He
wrinkled his noble brow and said to me, "But how did you know I've just come to town, and how did
you know of my involvement with the field theorems?"
"I'm afraid I had no idea you were our visitor, Sir Arthur," I said. "I did not even know we had a
visitor until Holmes surmised your approach."
Sir Arthur chuckled. "I understand," he said. "Bad manners, revealing the tricks of the trade. Even
those as simple as prior knowledge."
Holmes concealed his annoyance; I doubt anyone who knew him less well than I would have noticed
it. He gazed steadily at Sir Arthur. We seldom had visitors taller than Holmes, but Sir Arthur Conan
Doyle exceeds six feet by four inches. Unlike my friend Holmes, who remained slender, indeed gaunt,