Showing results by author "Craig Stephen Copland" in All Categories

Eine schöne, junge Frau betritt die Baker Street 221B. Ihr Vater, dessen engster Freund und ein junger Medizinstudent sind alle in den letzten zwei Wochen gestorben. Obwohl jede Leiche kurz nach dem Tod gefunden wurde, war stets die Totenstarre bereits eingetreten. Die junge Frau glaubt, dass alle ermordet wurden, und sucht die Hilfe von Sherlock Holmes. Die Geschichte ist von der ursprünglichen Sherlock Holmes-Geschichte "Das Zeichen der Vier" inspiriert. Fans von Sherlock Holmes finden hier ihre geliebten Charaktere in einem völlig neuen Krimi.

Du brauchst mehr Sherlock? Du liebst die Geschichten von Doyles Kanon, aber du willst mehr... mehr Geschichten, die den sechzig Originalen ähneln. Hier bist du richtig. Das Fass Lagavulin: "Ah, Watson, wie nett von Ihnen, sich mir anzuschließen. Ich hoffe, ich habe Ihre Arbeit im Krankenhaus nicht gestört." "Keineswegs. Wir jüngeren Ärzte werden nicht gerade überlaufen von Patienten." "Noch nicht, mein lieber Junge. Noch nicht. Ich bin jedoch sehr dankbar, dass Sie hier sind, und ich gehe davon aus, dass es Ihnen gefallen wird, mein Treffen mit diesem Kollegen aufzuzeichnen."

No sooner has Sherlock Holmes arrived in Plymouth for a short vacation than he finds himself in the middle of an unsolved crime - the Telegraph Murders. Two electrical engineers were found dead after completing a contract for the new Western Union telegraph office. Holmes's very unusual helper in this case is an exceptionally pious but still attractive woman who is the proprietor of a Christian bookstore. Some evil genius is behind a scheme to rob shareholders of millions of pounds and is prepared to commit murder to make sure his diabolical plan works.

A SANDAL FROM EAST ANGLIA. To Sherlock Holmes she will always be The Nun. But is this brilliant young woman carrying on a secret double life - a life far too sensual for a member of a holy order? She is helping archeological excavations at the ruined Abbey of St. Edmund, where a sealed canister has been unearthed. In it is a document that has the potential to change the course of the British Empire and all of Christendom.

"Ah, Watson, how good of you to join me. I trust I did not disturb your work at the hospital." "Not at all. We younger doctors are not exactly choc-a-block with patients." "Not yet, my dear chap. Not yet. However, I am very grateful that you are here, and I expect that you will quite enjoy recording my meeting with this fellow."

"Ah, Watson, how good of you to join me. I trust I did not disturb your work at the hospital." "Not at all. We younger doctors are not exactly choc-a-block with patients." "Not yet, my dear chap. Not yet. However, I am very grateful that you are here, and I expect that you will quite enjoy recording my meeting with this fellow."

"To the man who loves intellectual stimulation," remarked Sherlock Holmes, "London in August is the lowliest month on the calendar. Those with the means to do so have departed for the Algarve and the Riviera. Those without are off to Blackpool and Brighton." "And what about those," I asked, "who are left behind? You and I are still here." "You at least have your sensational accounts of my efforts to keep scribbling. I, on the other hand, am losing faith in the enterprising criminal class."

On Easter Sunday of 1919, Lady Lillian Assherton attempted to take her own life, a second time. Her first attempt was in the fall of 1917 when Her Ladyship, recently widowed, received news that both of her sons, officers in the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, died at Passchendaele.

He was not much more than a child. I estimated his age at fourteen. He was a handsome boy, with the raven-black hair and deeply tanned skin color that marks a person who came from the lands under the Raj. His young body was beginning to show the signs of an emerging well-made sportsman. From his place, lying on his back on the pavement, his dark-brown eyes stared up at the morning sky ... lifeless. Behind his head was a pool of blood, now darkened and congealed.

Royston Giles Tamblyn III paid a visit to 221B Baker Street without a prior appointment on the morning of Saturday, 4 May 1901. He was a handsome young fellow, with flawless pale skin, well-combed hair that was blond-on-its-way-to-brown, and straight, gleaming teeth. He was dressed in a blazer and flannels, a creaseless white shirt, and an expertly tied old-school tie. In his polished boots, I could have seen my reflection had I bent over to inspect them.

Royston Giles Tamblyn III paid a visit to 221B Baker Street without a prior appointment on the morning of Saturday, 4 May 1901. He was a handsome young fellow, with flawless pale skin, well-combed hair that was blond-on-its-way-to-brown, and straight, gleaming teeth. He was dressed in a blazer and flannels, a creaseless white shirt, and an expertly tied old-school tie. In his polished boots, I could have seen my reflection had I bent over to inspect them.

Sherlock Holmes was not happy. "No, Mrs. Hudson, I will not see her now. Send her away and tell her to come back later." It was just past seven in the morning and we were enjoying an early coffee on a pleasant Sunday in the first week of June 1902, when Mrs. Hudson interrupted us. Holmes's longsuffering landlady did not leave.

On Easter Sunday of 1919, Lady Lillian Assherton attempted to take her own life, a second time. Her first attempt was in the fall of 1917 when Her Ladyship, recently widowed, received news that both of her sons, officers in the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment, died at Passchendaele.

"To the man who loves intellectual stimulation," remarked Sherlock Holmes, "London in August is the lowliest month on the calendar. Those with the means to do so have departed for the Algarve and the Riviera. Those without are off to Blackpool and Brighton." "And what about those," I asked, "who are left behind? You and I are still here." "You at least have your sensational accounts of my efforts to keep scribbling. I, on the other hand, am losing faith in the enterprising criminal class."

Sherlock Holmes was not happy. "No, Mrs. Hudson, I will not see her now. Send her away and tell her to come back later." It was just past seven in the morning and we were enjoying an early coffee on a pleasant Sunday in the first week of June 1902, when Mrs. Hudson interrupted us. Holmes's longsuffering landlady did not leave.

He was not much more than a child. I estimated his age at fourteen. He was a handsome boy, with the raven-black hair and deeply tanned skin color that marks a person who came from the lands under the Raj. His young body was beginning to show the signs of an emerging well-made sportsman. From his place, lying on his back on the pavement, his dark-brown eyes stared up at the morning sky ... lifeless. Behind his head was a pool of blood, now darkened and congealed.

Five new pastiche stories of the world's greatest detective. These stories are shorter than the other novellas in the New Sherlock Holmes Mysteries set and were published earlier in either the MX Books or Belanger Books anthologies of Sherlock Holmes stories (Edited by David Marcum). 'The Singular Tragedy of the Atkinson Brothers at Trincomalee' is one of the unpublished cases we hear about in The Canon. The story Takes Holmes and Watson to the tropical island of Ceylon on behalf of the Foreign Office to investigate the murder of one of the Atkinson brothers.

Oxford University is famous throughout the world for its splendid architecture, lovely manicured lawns and gardens, and passionate pursuit of research, teaching and learning. But it turns out to be at the center of a case involving fraud, theft, treachery, and, maybe, murder. The Rhodes Scholarship has been recently established and is seen at one of the greatest prizes available to young men throughout the Empire. So much so that some men are prepared to lie, steal, slander, and, maybe murder, in the pursuit of it.

On September 15, 1894, an anarchist attempted to bomb the Greenwich Observatory. He failed, but the attempt led Sherlock Holmes into an intricate web of spies, foreign naval officers, and a beautiful princess. Once again, suspicion landed on poor Percy Phelps, now working in a senior position in the Admiralty, and once again Holmes has to use both his powers of deduction and raw courage to not only rescue Percy, but to prevent an unspeakable disaster.

The Czar of Russia was assassinated in March 1881. That summer an attempt was made to murder his daughter while she was riding through Kensington Gardens with her husband, the Duke of Edinburgh. A Russian Count has been found dead in a hospital in London. Scotland Yard, the Home Office, and Mycroft Holmes arrive at 221B to enlist the help of England's only consulting detective to catch the assassin before he can strike again. But will Sherlock Holmes succeed? And what unique strategy will he contrive to trap his prey? This new mystery is a tribute to The Resident Patient.