Sherlock Holmes: Before Baker Street by David Marcum (books to read to be successful TXT) 📗

be your undoing. As I have written, like yourself, I am a consultant for the force. I work directly with the officers in training them for combat situations. Like you, I also see the deficiencies in the Yard. But unlike you, I also see the good in them, the potential. They just need an effective Master to train them. You have the potential to be that Master, Mr. Holmes. The first step in doing so is showing a humble side to yourself. Apologize to Mr. Lestrade and he will respect you for it. Then you may begin to rebuild your professional relationship.’

“‘Mr. Chen,’ I responded. ‘This discussion is over. There is the door. You have become a persona non grata. A good day to you.’

“Chen’s eyes pierced me again, and he took his pencil out, flipped to a blank page in his book, and wrote me a final message.

“‘You have claimed that you can defeat anyone who works for the Yard. Very well. Then I challenge you, Mr. Holmes, to prove your claim correct. I will give you five minutes to lay a single blow upon my body. If you succeed, then I shall leave here and you shall never see me again. I shall also provide you with a payment of £100. However, if you are unsuccessful, then you will immediately proceed to Scotland Yard and personally apologize to Lestrade and the other officers. As a token of appreciation, you will offer your services for free for the remainder of the week. Do you accept my challenge?’

“I read the note and considered this challenge with slight trepidation. I had determined through Mr. Chen’s movements and actions that the man did have some skill. He was clearly attuned to his body and defeating him, I surmised, could be more difficult than one would assume. However, my misgiving about accepting the challenge was not due to any concern over losing the wager but of actually winning it. To defeat this man, I would have to assume he had the skills of a man much more youthful. I feared that in using this approach, I might injure him, possibly severely.

“‘Sir, I am a top boxer, an expert fencer, and a skilled stick fighter. I do not wish to do you harm.’

“I looked into Chen’s eyes Watson and I actually saw mirthfulness, as if the man were chuckling at me. Without writing a word, he merely offered me his hand. With a shake of my head and an utterance of ‘Very well,’ I accepted and we shook on it.

“I offered a few moments of preparation. Chen shook his head no and wrote, asking if I had an appropriate timer. I acknowledged that I did, and while I went to my desk and searched for the correct sand vial, Chen went to the chimney and covered his hands in soot.”

“In soot? What an odd form of defense. Was he planning on blinding you?” I asked. I was riveted by the narrative, and wondered if Holmes would accidentally, or even intentionally, cripple the old fool.

Holmes opened his mouth to respond, then stopped himself, and instead took a few puffs from his pipe. He continued his narrative, not answering my question.

“So there we were, Watson. Me, in the prime of my life, and Mr. Chen an old man. I held the timer aloft, and Chen gave a steady nod of his head. I lowered the vial and the grains of sand began to flow downward.

“I decided to end this as quickly as I could by sending a couple of quick jabs to Chen’s upper torso. I would restrain my use of force, if not my fighting technique. I took my boxing stance. Nothing unconventional. I was prepared to have the fight over and done before the one minute mark.

“Chen stood still. He did not take any fighting stance, just stood there, arms at his side, his feet shoulder width apart, and his eyes mocking me.

“I jabbed twice, but the man was agile and actually shifted his body to the left and right so my jabs never contacted. I went through again, this time following with a left hook. I thought I had him, but as I hit forward, Chen dodged, then grabbed my arm, and with a sweep of his feet, he had me slammed into the floor of my flat.

“Slightly dazed, I pulled myself up, shook my head, and stood. I turned to face Mr. Chen, who was still standing in the same pose. Feet evenly spread, arms at his side, and his mocking eyes laughing at me.

“I knew that his skill level was much higher than I first suspected. I decided to try a slightly different approach. I took my fighting stance and slowly moved toward the old man. I did not want to harm him, so I had ruled out any blows to the liver or uppercuts to the chin. Still, I thought that I would fool him a bit by throwing an uppercut with my right that would purposely miss and then, while Chen was dodging the blow, follow through with a left cross to his chest.”

“Well played, Holmes. Since you weren’t going for a knockout, just for a win. I assume that you connected.”

“You assume wrong, my dear Watson, for Chen was as fleet-footed as a fox. When I threw the uppercut, not only did Chen dodge, but he stepped to my side and, with a swift motion of his hands, he pushed down on my chest while sweeping my legs. I toppled over backwards, and crashed to the floor.

“I wasted no time returning to combat. When my body hit the floor, I rolled to my left and sprang to my feet. A glance at the timer let me see that the sand was halfway down. I reflected on my knowledge of stick fighting and how I could use some