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Chapter 1

The hat, the goose and the stone

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  1. From high above, a hard-frost London dawn lies silent over Baker Street.

    1 From high above, a hard-frost London dawn lies silent over Baker Street.

    In the text →
  2. Holmes, perfectly grave, jams the battered hat down to the bridge of his nose and lectures on "cubic capacity" with a raised finger, while firelight warms the cluttered Baker Street sitting-room.

    3 Holmes, perfectly grave, jams the battered hat down to the bridge of his nose and lectures on "cubic capacity" with a raised finger, while firelight warms the cluttered Baker Street sitting-room.

    In the text →
  3. Peterson's open palm offers the blazing blue carbuncle to the warm, dark sitting-room, while Holmes and Watson lean toward it in blurred silhouette behind.

    5 Peterson's open palm offers the blazing blue carbuncle to the warm, dark sitting-room, while Holmes and Watson lean toward it in blurred silhouette behind.

    In the text →
  4. Holmes raises the blue carbuncle to the firelight, his lean face lit amber on one side and touched by a cold blue point from the stone.

    6 Holmes raises the blue carbuncle to the firelight, his lean face lit amber on one side and touched by a cold blue point from the stone.

    In the text →