5 The Man with the Gun

Chapter 5 The Man with the Gun I couldn't work out what had startled Holmes. Outside, the street was now completely empty. That man might still have been crouching in his doorway, but I could no longer see him. Suddenly, Holmes pulled me into the darkest corner of the room. I felt his hand on my lips, warning me to stay silent. His fingers were trembling with nervous tension. I wondered what was troubling him, but then I became aware of a sound. It was low and stealthy and didn't come from the street but from the back of the house.

A door opened and closed. Footsteps began creeping slowly down the passage toward us. Holmes edged deeper into the shadows and I did the same, my hand closing on the butt of my revolver. Peering into the gloom, I saw the vague outline of a man. He stood for a moment in the doorway, then crept forward into the room. I prepared to meet his attack, until I realized he had no idea we were there.

He moved to the window and carefully raised it a few inches, then sank to one knee so he could see through the opening. The street light fell upon his face. I saw he was an elderly man with a high forehead and a large moustache. In his hand he carried a thin cane or rod that gleamed like metal. From his pocket, he drew a bulky object, which he fitted to the rod with a sharp click. He pushed a lever, producing a whirling, grinding noise that ended in another loud click.

I saw now that the object in his hand was a kind of gun. He opened it at the breech and put something in before snapping it shut. He rested the end of the barrel on the ledge of the open window. His eye gleamed as it peered through the sights. He snuggled the butt comfortably against his shoulder and gave a sigh of satisfaction as he took aim at the black figure in the yellow window. For an instant, he was perfectly still. Then his finger tightened on the trigger.

There was a loud whizzing sound followed by a silvery tinkle of broken glass. At that moment, Holmes sprang out of the shadows and landed on the marksman's back, pushing him flat on his face. Showing incredible strength, the man immediately rose up again and seized Holmes by the throat. Moving behind the man, I struck him on the head with the butt of my revolver and he dropped back down to the floor. I held him there with my arms and knees while Holmes blew loudly on his whistle.

There was a clatter of running feet and three men rushed through the front entrance and into the room. Two were uniformed policemen; the other, a plain-clothed detective who I recognized as the figure I'd seen sheltering in the doorway. "That you, Lestrade?" said Holmes. "Yes, Mr. Holmes. It's good to see you back in London, sir." "I thought you could use a little help. Three unsolved murders in a year isn't good enough, Lestrade." The two constables took my place in restraining the prisoner, who was now back on his feet.