Unknown

Frank Thomas

PINNACLE
BOOKS • LOS ANGELES

This
is a work of fiction. All the characters and
events
portrayed in this book are fictional, and any
resemblance
to real people or incidents is purely
coincidental.

SHERLOCK
HOLMES AND THE GOLDEN BIRD

Copyright
© 1979 by Frank Thomas

All rights reserved, including the
right to reproduce
this
book or portions thereof in any form.

An original Pinnacle Books
edition, published
for
the first time anywhere.

First printing, September 1979
ISBN: 0-523-40616-9 Cover illustration by David Mann

Printed in the United States of
America

PINNACLE
BOOKS, INC.

2029
Century Park East

Los
Angeles, California 90067

Contents

Preface
vii

A
Note to the Reader
ix

Chapter

1 The Problem 1

2 Into Action 11

3 The Battle at the Nonpareil
Club 19

4 The Solving of a Message
31

5 To Berlin 41

6 Our Singular Client 51

7 The Hatchet Men 63

8 In Constantinople 75

9 Back to Baker Street 87

10
St.
Aubrey
97

11 The Famous Chair Fighter of

the
Andaman Islands
105

12 The Meeting with that
Frightening Man 121

13
Our
Quarters Under Seige
135

14
The
Removal of the Bird
147

15
Holmes
Plans Our Defense
161

16
The
Attack
173

17 More Light in Dark
Places 181

18
The
Taking and the Rescue
191

19
The
Revelations of the Royal Jeweler 203

20
The
Deadman's Code
217

21
The
Resolution 227

Preface

vii

In bringing previously unpublished
cases of the
world's
greatest detective to the attention of readers, one is faced with the
persistent questions: "How did
you
come by these adventures, and why have they not
been
published before this?"

There is no mystery here. The
unpublished stories
are
frequently referred to in the four novels and fifty-six
short
stories that Doctor Watson made available during his lifetime. Nor is
there doubt as to where the volumi
nous
case books, carefully compiled by the most diligent
chronicler
of all times, were placed, for Watson told us
on
a number of occasions. They were filed in that
famous
dispatch box in the vaults of Cox's Bank at
Charing
Cross. The reasons the good doctor denied the
eager
reading public of the world access to these adven
tures
was also plainly stated. A number of Holmes's
exploits
dealt with sensitive government matters best
allowed
to remain in limbo for the time. Others cast
light
on social scandals of the late Victorian era and
Watson,
always the soul of properiety, felt they should
not
become public knowledge while those involved were
still
alive. In addition, there were certain cases which
Watson
rather cryptically described as being of such a
nature
that the world was not prepared for their revela
tion.
I have often wondered if the months Holmes spent
in
research into coal-tar derivatives in a laboratory at
Montpellier,
in the south of France, is classified in this
last
category.

The
adventures were certainly recorded and pre
served
and the only singular matter is how this editor
came
by them. I have been vague on this point in previous writings,
but the whole matter will be in the open before long because of legal
questions regarding owner
ship.
There is, in Anglo-Saxon law, the Treasures of
the
Realm act of which I have been made alarmingly
aware.

It was during the height of the
wartime blitz that
Cox's
Bank was devastated by bombs. Since I was in
London
at this time, my only thought on that fateful
night
was to seek refuge from the explosions that seared
the
darkness with a nightmare of flame, falling masonry,
dust,
debris, death. By pure happenstance the aged dis
patch
box and I were thrown together and happily we emerged from the
kaleidoscope of horror relatively
undamaged.
One thing is certain, had I not been in
the
ruins of the bank, the dispatch box with its historical and
irreplaceable contents would have been lost forever,
reduced
to cinders by the German firebombs.

Such is the statement I shall make
when the matter
comes
to court.

But this unpleasant legal
confrontation lies in the
future,
which must unfold according to the blueprint of
destiny.
Let us now part the veils of time and walk back
into
the past. Back to the wondrous world of Baker
Street.

The game is afoot, or more
appropriately, the bird is
on
the wing.

—
Frank Thomas

Los Angeles, 1979

A
Note to the Reader

ix

For the purpose of this work, it
was necessary
to
authenticate, in depth, certain elusive historical
facts
regarding ancient treasure.

The dedicated research of Elsie
Probasco of
Reno,
Nevada proved indispensable in this regard.

As was the case with previous
publications
dealing
with Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the author was
able
to lean on the encyclopedic knowledge of
the
greatest Holmesian of our times, John Ben
nett
Shaw of Santa Fe, New Mexico.

We shall mention last what came
first. Walda,
in
whose presence the Golden Bird first took
wing.
Without her, this book would have been
completed
six months earlier.

1

The Problem

1

It was a night in late autumn and
the wind, which
had
brought an Arctic cold to the streets of London, had
died
down. But on its heels came a thick fog that blanketed the
metropolis. Neighboring buildings loomed
momentarily
like blurred objects and then disappeared
under
swirls of moist eiderdown. There was a chilling wetness everywhere
and I had built the hearth fire high, in hopes that the leaping
flames would defy the inclem
ency
without.

Sherlock Holmes had been idle for
several days,
spending
the time arranging his voluminous files. He seemed in excellent
spirits, unusual when there was no
test
for his highly trained talents. During a tasty dinner prepared by the
solicitous Mrs. Hudson, he had regaled me with tales of that tiny and
little-known country of Montenegro with which he seemed so familiar.
While
removing the
dishes, our kindly housekeeper gave
Holmes
a letter that had just arrived by special messen
ger.
As his thin, dexterous fingers extracted the single
page
and his eyes flashed over it, the relaxed, somewhat languid mood of
the world's only consulting detective disappeared. His manner
sharpened with interest and he gave the message a long second look
before passing it to
me.

"An unexpected communication,
Watson. From Lindquist, you know."

As I took the letter from his
hand, I regarded my
intimate
friend with a blank stare, prompting him to
continue.

"Possibly, you do not know of
him. Rather brilliant
chap.
Was of considerable service in connection with that matter of Mrs.
Farintoch's opal tiara."

The message I read had more than a
touch of ur
gency.

My dear Holmes:

Am hopeful that this finds you in
your cham
bers
and that you will be there come nine o'clock
when
I shall arrive. Time is of the essence and
there
is no one but you to turn to. In desperation, I
am
. . . Nils Lindquist.

My eyes elevated to Holmes. "The
chap seems in
need
of your unique services."

"A visitor at a late hour on
a night like this would
have
desperation as a spur. However, Lindquist was always a cool one,
not given to flights of fancy." Holmes
was
rubbing his hands together with a satisfied air.
"Which
leads me to think his visit will unveil a matter
of
interest."

The signs were obvious. Holmes
was, again, thirsting
for
action—hungry for puzzles and mysteries in which
to
subtly insert the probe of his specialized knowledge
and
experience.

"You mention his association
with a previous case," I
began,
then let my voice dwindle away, knowing he
would
pick up the conversational lead.

"While Lindquist's fame is
limited to a small circle,
he's
a top-notch gem expert with an extensive knowl
edge
of
objets d'art."
Holmes indicated
the stationery in my hand. "Do you deduce anything else from his
mes
sage?"