SHERLOCK HOLMES AND THE BAKER STREET IRREGULARS
Casebook No. 2: THE MYSTERY OF THE CONJURED MAN
by
Tracy Mack and Michael Citrin
Scholastic Paperbacks
ISBN: 9780439836678
Ages 9-12
208 pages
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CHAPTER SIX
THE IRREGULARS SURVEY THE MANSION
Konstantine’s mansion loomed through the fog like a huge gothic aberration. “Bloody ’eck, you ever seen such a monstrous building?” Elliot grumbled. It was surrounded by stone walls, fences, and iron gates. The flying buttresses and sharppointed
arches, along with the stained facade, resembled the manor house of a dreary country village. The building’s grim aura stood in complete contrast to its setting in London’s quaint neighborhood of Chelsea.
“There’s somethin’ dark about the place,” Rohan agreed with Elliot.
Alfie nudged Wiggins and laughed. “The big blokes ’ave the jitters.”
Elliot scowled at him. “You’d be scared, Elf, if you had any sense.”
“Enough,” Wiggins demanded. The house didn’t spook him.
The Irregulars quieted and huddled together on a small side street across from the mansion as Wiggins paced before them. “Okay, mates, Master’s orders are to do a thorough surveillance — no one’s to come or go without us knowin’. James and Pete, you take the right side of the place; Barnaby and Fletcher, you take the left. Elliot, Rohan, and I will watch the front. On the back side is a tall hedge surrounding what I’m guessin’ is a garden. Alfie, you go over there. Shem and Simpson, stay here, remain alert, and be ready to trail whoever leaves.”
“Maybe I should go get King ’Enry. He can help us track people,” Alfie suggested.
Wiggins leveled a forefinger at him. “To your post, Elf, and no more talk of that mutt.”
All the boys took their positions. On the pavement across from the mansion, Wiggins removed his ferret, Shirley, from his coat pocket and stroked her fur. Rohan sat beside them and fed Shirley a few bread crumbs from his pocket. Elliot stretched
out on the sidewalk and pretended to sleep. Once or twice before, he had actually dozed off on the job.
“Stay focused, Stitch,” Wiggins warned.
Elliot grunted.
A few minutes later, a grand brougham pulled through the gates of the mansion. A well-dressed gentleman in his late fifties stepped down from the carriage and reached up to assist a woman, also poshly attired. A short, brawny man welcomed them at the front door.
The visitors remained in the mansion for approximately one hour. When they reemerged and approached the waiting brougham, they appeared giddy with happiness. Wiggins crept around the corner and signaled Shem who raced around the block, first pursuing the carriage on foot as it drove off, then managing to hop on its rear.
At the back of the mansion, Alfie was growing weary of staring at the ten-foot-high hedge.
No one can get out through that thing, he thought. Wiggins is punishin’ me for bringin’ King ’Enry ’ome.
Alfie paced and examined the hedge. That’s when he noticed a six-inch break at the bottom of the dense shrubbery. He looked around and, not seeing anyone, dove under it.
He’d been worming through for only a moment when his head smacked a wood fence. He stifled a yelp. Rubbing the spot, Alfie managed to stand and discovered he was now lodged between the hedge and the fence, which stood about a foot taller than he.
“Blimey, I ’ope I’m not stuck,” he muttered.
Sidestepping, he at last found a split in the planks and, through it, spied a formal garden. A stone path led through a manicured lawn filled with trees, flowerbeds, bushes, a small fountain, and a few benches. Alfie was studying a stone monolith rising up in the center of a square of paving stones when a man and a woman exited the rear of the house and walked through the garden. The man had black hair with silver winglike patches around the ears, a neatly trimmed mustache, and was dressed in a finely tailored wool suit. The woman was thin as a wafer, with sharp eyes, a pointed nose, and long, wiry hair. She reminded Alfie of a witch.
The woman stopped and said sweetly, “Darling, you must do it.”
The man shook his head. “But we did not plan it this way.” He pulled a white silk handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow.
The woman’s voice turned suddenly shrill. “Finish this. Finish her!”
The man put a hand on her shoulder, seemingly to quiet her. He bowed his head as they continued walking in Alfie’s direction.
Alfie watched them carefully, until a cart passing on the street startled him and caused him to glance away.
When he peered through the crack again, the woman was stalking back toward the house. But the man was nowhere to be seen. Where could he have gone?
Then Alfie noticed the handkerchief lying on the ground. He tried to climb over the fence, but landed repeatedly on his bottom. Should he fetch one of the older boys?
Studying the spot where the wood slats met the dirt, he dropped to his knees, heart thumping, and dug like a mole.
Excerpted from SHERLOCK HOLMES AND THE BAKER STREET IRREGULARS: Casebook No. 2: THE MYSTERY OF THE CONJURED MAN © Copyright 2009 by Tracy Mack and Michael Citrin. Reprinted with permission by Scholastic Paperbacks. All rights reserved.
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