The Adventure of the Tired Captain A Sherlock Holmes Case Read Online Free Page B

there has been a policeman parading himself up and down our street all week long.”
    “That was probably of Holmes’ doing. Since you re fused his request to put up at a hotel he undoubtedly spoke with Inspector Lestrade about having some extra men keep watch over you.”
    I felt this could actually have been the work of either of the Holmes brothers as Mycroft also apparently had some influence with the Yard.
    “He was not the only person who seemed to take an interest in the affairs of this household,” Mary said.
    I was pleased that my wife had been so vigilant. Aside from possessing a natural curiosity Mary had an uncommon talent when it came to the observation of details, a skill she had cultivated since first becoming associated with Sherlock Holmes and to a lesser extant myself.
    “There was someone else watching our house? Was it another policeman?” I asked her.
    “Not unless the Metropolitan Police have neglected to pay their constables for some time. This was quite an unkempt looking individual, dressed all in tatters and pushing an orange costers barrow.”
    “What makes you think that this man was watching our house?”
    “Anytime that I looked out of the window I noticed the same man pushing his barrow up and down the sidewalk opposite our front door.”
    “There is nothing remarkable in that. London is full of street vendors, plying their trade.”
    “I know that John,” Mary said with some asperity, “but when I sent Mary Jane out to buy some oranges he had none to sell. Later that day when I met my friend Violet Davenport at the Cafe Royal in Regent Street I noticed the very same man standing outside the boot shop next to the restaurant and with the help of my little mirror I caught brief glimpses of the scoundrel on my trip home following my luncheon. When I got home I sent Mary Jane out for the constable and after what looked to be a heated argument the policeman made him move on. The next day however he had returned without his barrow. I ventured again to inform the police but they told me that there was nothing they could do.
    “The same ‘street vendor’ was there again yesterday even though there was now a policeman posted outside of our door. I was about to go and shoo him away myself when Mary Jane tripped as she was coming down the stairs. By the time I helped her up and tended to her injury the man had gone.”
    I silently thanked whatever gods watched over headstrong young housewives or perhaps pernicious orange sellers, for Mary was not in the least bit timid and I knew she would have no qualms in confronting this man.
    “I noticed nothing unusual when I arrived,” I said.
    Drawing aside the curtains Mary looked out of the window. “No, I see no-one. However he was there earlier this morning.”
    “Perhaps I have frightened him away,” I ventured.
    “I hope to God you have John, perhaps I was being foolish, but with you away and Mr. Holmes’ warning to be on my guard ringing in my ears my nerves were not the best.”
    “I am here now and no-one shall bother you again. I will inform Holmes of this matter,” I said.
    I spent the remainder of the day relaxing, and re-adjusting to the routines of my household. Mary and I went to bed early.
    The next day was a dreary one and for a moment the poisonous yellow fog caused me to long for the sunnier climes of France.
    I went across to my neighbour’s and thanked him for caring for my patients. He had done such a fine job that the caseload for the day was light. One elderly gentleman suffering from gout and a spinster lady with a wart on her finger were my only two patients for the day.
    That evening I treated Mary to an evening at Simpson’s. My roast beef at 2s 6d, and Mary’s fish at 2s 9d were a bit of an extravagance but I was in a joyous mood. I was back in England and with my beautiful wife. What more could a man ask for?
    Waiting for our meals we discussed plans for our upcoming holiday in Scotland. Unfortunately I had