The Oriental Casebook of Sherlock Holmes by Ted Riccardi

accompanied by the now familiar ablutions of the Nepalese, including the vociferous removal of catarrh from the nose and throat. So real and warmly human were these sounds and sights that they dispelled some of the apprehension engendered by the events of the previous night.
    “There was a knock at the door, by now familiar. Lakshman, a small village boy who worked as a bearer in the hotel, was there with my morning tea. He was only eleven years old, dirty, barefoot, but of great cheer and spirit. The Anglo-Indian breakfast of eggs and porridge was on the usual filthy tray, which he placed on a small table in front of my window. He smiled and left as quickly as he had come.”
    As he sat in his room reviewing the events of the night before, Holmes became convinced that Rizzetti’s murder might be part of a larger, as yet undefined series of evil events. The question was: where was the centre of this intrigue? Judging from his height, the murderer was in all probability a European, one who could only travel outside at night without being seen unless he had a reason for being here that allowed his stay to be known to the Nepalese authorities. Holmes’s close scrutiny of the bazaar in the previous days led him to believe that he had spotted all the European criminals in Katmandu. All were known to him and not one of them matched the physical appearance of the murderer. No, this villain was not in the bazaar. He was elsewhere. But where? By a process of elimination, Holmes arrived at a possible answer to his question: the British Residence itself, the only place where a foreigner could hide unobserved.
    “As I sat there deep in thought, I noticed that the tea cup and saucer had begun to jingle and the small table on which they were placed had begun to shake. The shaking moved to my chair, and for a moment I thought that perhaps a cat or some other animal had moved under it. Suddenly, the entire room began to sway and the hotel itself began to move. The tray slid off the table, and I heard objects outside my window begin to crash and the voices of people shouting wildly. Then the shaking abated as suddenly as it had come. It took no time at all to realise that I had just lived through an earthquake. A strong tremor had passed through the city. I raced to the window. There appeared to have been no great damage, for everything I could see was intact. But it was then that I heard something that I shall not forget: the rhythmic, slow, eerie repetition of what sounded like the syllables ‘Ah Ah,’ said over and over again by what seemed to be the entire population of Katmandu. I learned later from Gorashar that this is the magic utterance of the people, spoken as they press their thumbs against the ground to stop the earth from moving under them any further.”
    It was not long before Holmes dressed and was on his way out. He could see that the bright Katmandu sun was already high as he walked through the courtyard. Gorashar stopped him as he was about to leave the hotel and warned that he exercise all caution. The astrologers had seen a most inauspicious conjunction of stars and planets and foresaw the possibility of disastrous events. The morning’s earth tremor was merely the beginning. Everyone in Nepal was worshipping the gods in order to ward off calamity. The entire population of the city was frightened, and in their fear any stranger could be instantly blamed for the situation. He reassured Gorashar that he would be most prudent but that he wished to pay his first call on the British Resident, Mr. Edward Richardson. Gorashar said that Richardson was reportedly ill and that he probably would not receive anyone. Holmes insisted, however, and Gorashar said that he would accompany him as far as the outer wall of the city. Just as they entered the place known as Bhotahity, a large procession stopped them.
    “The Bodhisattvas have come to protect us,” said Gorashar.
    The procession was a compelling sight. Avalokiteshvara and