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DI Stanley Hopkins looked into the River Thames and shivered. The water reflected back the black of the night sky. Somewhere, beneath the receding waves caused by the police launch, there was a body.
Sherlock Holmes joined him at the back of the launch. “This is where you think he’ll be?” he asked.
“Given the tide and weather conditions I’d say so. But there’s something odd about the river tonight. It seems almost malevolent.”
“Unusual words coming from you. The river seems very calm tonight.”
“It’s not the physical nature of the river – I’ve seen it when the tide’s running strongly in the middle of a storm – it’s been dangerous, but I wouldn’t call it evil. But tonight …” Stanley shivered again.
“Would it matter if you didn’t find the body?”
“How can you ask that?”
“Nobody liked him. As far as I know, no-one mourns his loss. What good would the body do? The corpse has been in the water for what, twelve hours, so we’ve lost a lot of the information we’d have had if it hadn’t.”
“If we start deciding whose body is worth retrieving and whose isn’t then we are deciding who is entitled to justice,” Stanley replied. Sherlock snorted, but Stanley continued, “And aren’t you curious as to why someone wanted to throw the body into the river, when it was clear it was Flyte and he was very definitely dead?”
The police sergeant approached them. “Do you want me to ask the divers to go down, sir?” she asked.
Stanley looked into the river again and then glanced at Sherlock. “No, tell them to wait until daylight. It’s only a few hours away. But I want a boat to stay here overnight and a record kept of any vessel which comes close and a note of anyone who walks down the riverbank, including early morning dogwalkers.”
“Yes, sir!” The sergeant departed to relay Hopkins’ orders.
“That seems a bit over the top,” Sherlock said.
“I just sense there’s something strange going on. Logic tells me the body must be here, and yet, I’m worried it will have gone by the time the divers go down.”
“Why not get them to dive now?”
“It’ll be much safer once it’s daylight. I’m not risking the lives of my officers for one dead man.”
At that moment there was a sudden surge in the river, as if a large wave was flowing underneath the launch. Both Sherlock and Stanley grabbed the handrail.
As the vessel settled again, Stanley called out, “Is everyone safe?”
“Yes, sir,” the sergeant called back. “What was that?”
“I have no idea.”
Sherlock looked at Stanley. “You were right, the body was here.”
“And now it’s gone?”
“Yes, I would say so.”
Stanley looked into the river. The first rays of the midsummer sun were just breaking through and the river no longer seemed as black. “It’s funny, but the Thames seems to have returned to its normal self,” Stanley said. “It doesn’t feel evil anymore.”
“Are you saying that strange wave took the evil away?”
“That would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?”
“The fanciful do claim strange things happen at midsummer.”
“But you and I aren’t fanciful.”
“Of course not.”
They exchanged a look and Stanley said, “I can see no point in us staying any longer. The divers can go down as soon as it’s properly light, but I doubt they’ll find anything.”
“So why bother?”
“Because then I can say we’ve done all we can, and it will be added to the list of Thames mysteries.”
“Another unsolved case?”
“There’s a special category of cases where the Thames seems to have simply swallowed the evidence. I didn’t believe in them before tonight, but perhaps there’s something to it after all.” Stanley shrugged. “Or maybe we’ve just been caught up in a little midsummer magic.”