The Viking General (A Sherlock Holmes Uncovered Tale Book 9)

  The Viking General

  A Sherlock Holmes Uncovered Tale

  Steven Ehrman

  Copyright © 2014 Steven Ehrman

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 1503175952

  ISBN-13:978-1503175952

  DEDICATION

  To Jean.

  DEDICATION

  Works by the Same Author

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Epilogue

  special note

  Works by the Same Author

  The Sherlock Holmes Uncovered Tales

  The Eccentric Painter

  The Iron Dog

  The Mad Judge

  The Spider Web

  The Lambs Lane Affair

  The Rising Minister

  Robin Hood’s Revenge

  The Spanish Butler

  The Viking General

  Coming Soon:

  The League of Mendacious Men

  The Frank Randall Mysteries

  The Referral Game

  The Visible Suspect

  The Zombie Civilization Saga

  Zombie Civilization: Genesis

  Zombie Civilization: Exodus

  Coming soon:

  Zombie Civilization: Numbers

  Chapter One

  “So, how are you this evening, young man?” I asked as I strode into the bedroom of William Compton.

  The ten-year-old boy looked up at my entrance, and flashed a very engaging smile.

  “I am quite well, Doctor,” he replied. “I even played with Grandfather today in his study. He and I played a new game of pretend.”

  I frowned at the slender red-haired lad, but his good humour was infectious and I soon broke into a smile myself.

  It was easy to forget just how sick the boy had been only last week. Holmes and I had traveled to Lee in Kent ten days ago on a case. The famous Jewel of Zanzibar had been stolen from Sir Rodney Addington. It had been a difficult case for Holmes, and he had worked closely with Inspector Cavendish of Scotland Yard. I had been largely excluded from the chase, and felt quite bored in the small inn that Holmes and I had settled ourselves in.

  My boredom had been interrupted a week ago. William Compton had fallen ill at the estate of General Jonah Compton, the hero of the British Army during the Indian Mutiny. The local GP had recently died, and no replacement had been found as of yet. When word reached me that the lad was ill, I volunteered my services, though I had not practiced medicine for some years. The large Compton Estate was just outside of the village and I had found it easily.

  The General himself had met me at the door. When he heard I was a retired army surgeon, he declared that the boy was in fine hands. General Compton had been known as the Viking General during his days of service. He was a giant of a man, well over six feet in height, and even now, at age sixty-five, he had long, flowing blonde hair and a great blonde beard. He certainly looked like the Norsemen of old.

  Parker, the butler, guided me to the boy’s bedroom. I found the lad being attended to by his mother, Judith Compton, the wife of the General’s youngest son, Warren Compton. I examined the boy at once, and soon made a diagnosis of pneumonia. Over the past week, I had returned to the estate every day to supervise treatment of William Compton. His health had improved every day, and I had recently pronounced him out of any danger. Still, I had prescribed bed rest for at least another few days.

  During my time ministering young William, I had become familiar with all the denizens of the house. The patriarch of the clan was, of course, the General. The retired military man was a benevolent despot, from my observations, and was loved by all in the home, from the staff to his numerous relatives. The General and his wife Sara had been married for some forty years, and were obviously devoted to one another. The lady was still a handsome woman, despite her advancing years, and had a lovely figure and golden brown hair.

  Three children of the couple resided on the estate. The oldest son, Thomas Compton, was a bachelor, as well as a scientist. The tall, slender fellow sported a large brown mustache, which matched his hair. He was a botanist, who had traveled the Pacific widely in his younger years, studying the diverse plant life found in the tropical islands of that part of the world.

  Warren Compton was the youngest son, and lived in the home with his wife, Judith. Warren was a stout fellow of somewhat under middle height with bright red hair. He had been at university, but had no vocation that I could divine, and seemed content to live the life of a country squire, at his father’s expense. His wife seemed dutiful towards him, but it was obvious that her son was the recipient of the bulk of her affection. The child, however, was most taken with his grandfather, who visited him often while I was there.

  The General and his wife had a single daughter, who also resided with them. She was a widow by the name of Anna Grey. I understood that her husband had been a sailing man who was lost at sea some years earlier. The lady was a grave and reserved figure, but strikingly beautiful, as her mother must have been in her youth. She had very long brown hair and eyes that appeared almost black at times. Anna Grey had a daughter named Emily who was the terror of the house. The child was a willful one, and enjoyed spying on people in the enormous home. More than once, I had discovered the imp with her ear to the door during my visits with her cousin. Despite this, I found the child charming, in the way only little girls can be. She had deep blue eyes and a cascade of blonde hair.

  The General’s brother, Richard Compton, was also a denizen of the home. He was a retired engineer with blonde hair and beard to match his elder sibling. I understood that he had built bridges in the far reaches of the empire, and his ruddy countenance betrayed a man who had spent a good deal of time out of doors. He had apparently come on a visit several years before, and had been convinced to stay by the family. As Richard was a bachelor with no other relatives, he had readily agreed.

  The staff in the home was a large one with numerous maids and footmen. The maids were under the supervision of a Miss White, and the family butler, Parker, oversaw the male servants.

  The words of the boy brought me out of my small reverie.

  “I say, Doctor, will I be allowed to leave this wretched bed tomorrow? I know I was bad today, but please do not be cross with me.”

  “I would rather you keep to your bed for another day, my lad,” I said, “but I must admit that you have recovered more quickly than I had anticipated. I see no reason to restrain you against your will. I will let your mother know that I have given you permission to leave your sickbed.”

  “That will not be necessary, Doctor.” said a female voice.

  I turned, and saw the figure of Judith Compton standing in the doorway.

  “I did not mean to eavesdrop,” she said, “but I was coming in to see how your visit was progressing, and I overheard your words. You cannot imagine how grateful I am that you have saved my sweet William.”

  I protested that it was the boy’s own strong constitution that deserved much of the credit, but she would not be gainsaid.

  “I hope that the end of William’s illness will not mean the end of your visits. We have all grown quite fond of you. I believe that the General considers you the family’s personal physician.”

  “The General is a man used to getting his own way, I would wager. He has
an overawing personality. It is no wonder that the men flocked to him during the mutiny.”

  “I imagine it was a difficult time,” mused the woman. “India is such a mysterious land. Don’t you agree? Oh, but you were there yourself.”

  “Afghanistan actually,” I said. “But even that was long after the General had retired. I, of course, knew the name. I am surprised he mustered out as young as he did.”

  “I believe that he missed my mother-in-law, and she was alone at that time,” said Judith. “Anna and Warren were away at school, and Thomas was already abroad. Also, the General’s father passed away during that period. I believe that the General thought his place was home with his family.”

  I thought that was quite likely the case. General Compton had come from a wealthy family that was the source of his present wealth, but money cannot buy happiness when a man is separated from his loved ones.

  “Will you stay for supper, Doctor?” asked Judith Compton. “We dine at eight as a rule.”

  I glanced at my pocket watch, and saw it was just past seven. Holmes had told me earlier in the day that he expected to be back at the inn fairly early. It was my understanding that the jewel case was nearing completion, and I was anxious to hear the details. I was on the point of declining the gracious offer, when I heard a dull sound, like a shot had been fired. Before either of us could react, I distinctly heard five more shots come in quick succession.

  “Oh, dear. What was that?” asked Judith Compton. “Were those gunshots?”

  I believe so,” I replied. “Perhaps nearby hunters are to blame.”

  The woman shook her head, as if she doubted that idea. Before I could say anything else, there came the sound of a woman screaming. I dashed into the hall, and realized that the screams were coming from the other wing of the house.

  The Compton Estate was a structure consisting of two wings. The east wing was home to the bedrooms, whilst the west wing contained the study, library, billiards room, and dining room, as well as the kitchen and servant quarters. The two wings were swept back at a gentle angle and were connected by a great hall in the center.

  I ran towards the sound of the screams. I passed through the great hall, meeting no one on my way, until I came to Sara Compton pounding on the door to the study. Before I could ask what was wrong, I was joined by her son Warren and by the General’s brother, Richard Compton.

  “Mother, what in God’s name is the matter?” asked Warren.

  The lady was clearly terrified, and it was a moment before she could answer.

  “I was walking by the study, when I heard raised voices, and then gunshots,” she said finally. “I tried to open the door, but it is bolted.”

  Richard Compton took charge immediately.

  “If the door is bolted, we must force it,” he said calmly. “Sara, if you will step out of the way.”

  The lady stood aside, and the three us made a manly rush at the stout door. Our first attempt was denied, but upon our second assault the doorframe gave way. We plunged into the room as a group. I heard more voices from the hallway. Evidently, the tumult had succeeded in arousing the entire house.

  The study was in darkness. Evening had already set, and no light was coming through the large open window in the room. The smell of gunpowder was strongly present. Richard Compton fumbled for a match, and swore an oath when he dropped the first one. He succeeded in firing the second one, and lit a lamp mounted on a wall.

  The room sprang into view. I gasped as I saw General Jonah Compton lying on the floor in front of his desk. A large knife protruded from his stomach. I flew to his side and checked for signs of life. There were none, and I saw a huge pool of blood had accumulated under his body. He was beyond all hope. I stood, and faced the others.

  “General Compton has been murdered,” I said with some agitation. “We must send for the authorities, at once.”

  Chapter Two

  There was a short hush that was followed by an explosion of confused speech. The room began to fill with people. Sara Compton rushed to her husband’s body, as if to embrace him, but she was stopped short by Richard Compton.

  “There is nothing you can do for him now, Sara,” he said gently, yet firmly. “Warren, please escort your mother to the great hall.”

  Warren Compton came forward obediently and, with his wife, took the shaken widow from the room. As they passed through the door, I saw young Emily Grey holding her mother’s skirt, eyes wide with excitement. The mother passed a soft word to her daughter, and they too withdrew.

  I had thought that Richard Compton and I were now alone in the room, when I realized that the butler, Parker, had slipped in without my notice.

  “Parker,” I said. “The police are needed, at once. Send word to the village.”

  “I have already done so, sir,” he said in a calm voice. “I have sent James. He is a reliable footman and I am certain that the police will be here shortly.”

  “Stout man, Parker,” said Richard Compton. “Tell me, did my brother have a visitor tonight?”

  “None that I am aware of, sir.”

  “I need a message sent to the inn, as well,” I said to Parker. “Do you have another reliable man to carry a note?”

  “Of course, sir,” purred the butler.

  I went to the desk and grabbed a pen. There was a torn three-quarter sheet of paper on the desktop. I moved aside an unlit pipe, and scrawled a quick message on the paper, outlined the situation and begged Holmes to come at once, if possible. I handed the message to Parker. The man turned to leave, but was halted by Richard Compton.

  “I say, Parker, where is Thomas? The entire house has been risen, but I did not see him.”

  “He left the house about an hour ago, sir.”

  “To go where?”

  “I did not inquire, sir, but Mr. Thomas is in the habit of taking a constitutional in the evening, at times.”

  “Very good, then. Off you go.”

  The butler glided from the room. Richard Compton looked at me with hard eyes.

  “This is a bad business, Doctor,” he said.

  I thought this an understatement, but said nothing.

  “The murderer obviously escaped out that way,” he continued, pointing at the open window. “I would wager that he took the revolver with him as he left.”

  “You would lose that wager,” I replied. As the man had been speaking, I spied a revolver peeking out from beneath a sofa. “See there, Mr. Compton.”

  Richard Compton followed my gaze. He walked to the sofa, bent down, and pulled the gun out. He stood and smelled the barrel of the weapon.

  “No doubt it has been fired in the recent past,” he said.

  He handed the gun to me, and I had to agree with him that the gun had been fired very recently. I set the revolver down on the desk.

  “Who could have done such a thing?” asked the man.

  I was the only other person in the room, but it was obvious that he was only speaking his thoughts aloud, and expected no answer. At that moment Thomas Compton walked hurriedly into the room, followed by his brother Warren. Thomas stared dumbly at the body.

  “My god it is true. I didn’t believe it,” Thomas croaked. “I did not ever expect him to die. He seemed immortal to me.”

  ‘Well, he is dead and now we have to find the bounder who did the deed,” said Warren Compton.

  “Agreed,” said Richard. “The police are on the way. There is nothing more to be done until they arrive. It is obvious, at any rate.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “Jonah must have had a meeting with someone this evening. Sara said she heard raised voices. There was some sort of struggle and my brother was stabbed. The villain heard Sara pounding on the door and left by the only avenue available to him.”

  He pointed at the open window. Warren Compton nodded, indicating he agreed with his uncle, but Thomas looked pensive and unsure.

  “Someone should send for Burton and the Judge,” said Thomas softly.<
br />
  “Yes, of course,” said Warren. “I will take care of the matter myself. I will be back shortly.”

  He quickly walked from the room.

  “Who are these two men?” I asked.

  “They are Father’s closest friends. I suppose I should say they were Father’s closest friends,” said Thomas.

  “It is as Thomas has said, Doctor,” agreed Richard. “Judge Wesley Banner lives on the next estate over. The Judge purchased it upon his retirement from the bench. He has known Richard, and Sara for that matter, since they were mere youths. Burton Winfield is staying with him. He was also a close personal friend. They will both take this very hard. Burton especially has a nearly uncontrollable temper when aroused. There is no doubt he will be howling for revenge when he gets the word from Warren.”

  “Surely, that is a natural reaction from an old friend,” I observed.

  “Perhaps,” mused Richard Compton. “Still, I would not want to be present should Burton come to grips with the culprit responsible.”

  “I suppose there is nothing to do until the police arrive,” I said.

  “They will be here soon, Doctor, “ said Richard. “The village is less than a mile away, but as you say we must wait.”

  I agreed and the three of us settled in to await the arrival of the authorities. I left it unsaid, but I was hoping that Holmes would attend as well. If anyone could uncover the truth behind this tragedy, it would surely be him. We all were lost in our own thoughts for some minutes. Thomas Compton sat in an armchair and his uncle threw himself onto the sofa, which had hidden the gun. I strolled to the fireplace and leaned on the mantel.

  The ornate mantel was made of a heavy brass. As it was summer, there was no wood in the fireplace. I noted that the staff was attentive to their duties, seeing no trace of dust in the pit.

  We remained in an uneasy silence for some few minutes until I heard a commotion from down the hall. Before I could investigate, a tall, stocky man burst into the room. His bald head was wet with perspiration and his face was black with rage. He saw the body lying on the floor, looked from face to face, and settled on Richard Compton as the target of his wrath.