"Manly Wade Wellman - Sherlock Holmes's War of the Worlds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Wellman Manly Wade)

"There is more than that to our policy of secrecy," said Challenger. "We are agreed that this crystal
em-bodies a means of communication with another planet. If we were to share it with other scientists,
what clumsy efforts would they make to establish a rapport? No, Holmes, I would never trust so gravely
important a problem to limited mentalities, dulled with years in classrooms and museums. The
achievement of articu-late exchange with these creatures on Mars must be referred to the only mind on
earth with the requisite intelligence and methodтАФaided in certain ways, of course, by yourself."


But in the months that followed, most of the observa-tions, as well as earnest efforts to evoke a
response to signals, fell to Challenger alone. Holmes found his time occupied with a series of criminal
investigations."
Inspector Merivale of Scotland Yard asked for his help that March. The police had discovered a
wide-spread circulation of forged crowns and half-crowns, and the man suspected of coining them
persuasively denied the charge. He was a respectable shopkeeper in Seven Dials, that man insisted, with
no blot upon his reputation. He added that he knew his legal rights, would demonstrate that he had been
falsely accused, and would instruct his solicitors to lay action for dam-age to his character. Holmes
managed to obtain some of the accused man's clothing for study, and from the fold of a cuff recovered
tiny particles which, under the microscope, proved to be filings of zinc and copper. Confronted by this
discovery, the man broke down and confessed.
Officials in high places praised Holmes's method of uncovering this evidence. He thanked them
modestly and telephoned Challenger. But Challenger was unwontedly cryptic. "Please wait until you hear
from me," he said. "For the present, I want to work entirely alone."
Again, late in April, Holmes was asked to help in another seemingly baffling investigation. A policeman
had been murdered in the St. Pancras area, and his fellows fiercely yearned to find and punish the killer.
The only clue was a cloth cap found near the body, and again a suspect was brought in, a maker of
picture frames. But, like the coiner, he steadfastly denied the crime, saying that he did not own the cap
and knew nothing of the murder.
The cap was brought to Holmes on Monday, May 5, about the time the mail included a letter from one
James Mason. This man was a trainer of racehorses at the ancient manor of Shoscombe Old Place, and
he wrote rather guardedly to say that he would come to discuss with Holmes a matter of great
importance. Holmes was up betimes on the following day, ate breakfast quickly, and sat down to
transfer certain particles retrieved from the lining of the mysterious cap to a microscope slide. Adjusting
this in his instrument, he began to make his examination. He could detect tiny fibers, evidently of tweed,
and it was known that the suspect habitually wore a coat of that material. There were also small brown
blobs, puzzling at first. Becoming fatigued, he left the microscope and sat in his easy chair. He selected a
smooth Havana cigar and opened a book. Watson entered and began to eat his own breakfast.
"Extraordinary," said Holmes after he had been reading for several minutes. "My conversational
French is no more than passable, yet reading in French is much easier than speaking or writing it."
"What is your book?" asked Watson, stirring sugar into his coffee.
"A collection of the writings of Guy de Maupassant. The section I am reading is a chronicleтАФit is
almost like nonfictionтАФin the form of diary entries."
Watson's mouth drew thin under his mustache. "Mau-passant was a man of dissipated life," he
remarked austerely. "I have always thought that he preached im-morality in his stories."
"I fear I must disagree with you," said Holmes. "Maupassant, as I think, has always striven for
ob-jectivity. In any case, much of what we consider im-moral is merely pathological. Oscar Wilde, for
instance, was imprisoned under our English laws for a morbid aberration. He would have been shown
more mercy in France."
"But what is this particular chronicle you are read-ing?" asked Watson.
"It is entitled 'Le Horla,' fully laying bare the soul of the diarist. It tells how he came under the power of
some unknown, invisible being. Apparently the power departed, for the writer in the last entry is