By Andrew Lane
The 12 months is 1868 and fourteen-year-old Sherlock Holmes faces his so much baffling secret but. Mycroft, his older brother, has been chanced on with a knife in his hand, locked in a room with a corpse. merely Sherlock believes that his brother is blameless. yet can he end up it?
In a chase that would take him to Moscow and again, Sherlock needs to detect who has framed Mycroft and why . . . earlier than Mycroft swings on the gallows.
Young Sherlock Holmes is a chain of novels within which the long-lasting detective is reimagined as an excellent, and interesting youngster – developing unputdownable detective adventures that stay real to the spirit of the unique books.
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Additional resources for Young Sherlock Holmes: Black Ice
He fell backwards into the scummy river, palms thrashing wildly. Sherlock subsidized away quietly in the course of the water because the ultimate wild puppy dived in and vanished. For a moment he considered hiking out directly to the financial institution, yet there will be extra canine there in hiding. Reluctantly, he pressed on during the water. in the back of him he may possibly pay attention splashing and grunting, after which simply splashing, after which not anything. a ways forward he can make out a glimmer of sunshine, like an oil lamp placing in a doorway on a dismal evening. He pressed ahead, water churning in entrance of him as he moved quickly alongside. the sunshine grew brighter, hurting his eyes. It took the shape of an arch – an arch in which he may see the grey-blue waters of a better river crossing the only in which he was once wading. His eyes had grown familiar with the sunlight by the point he reached the arch. It wasn’t barred and there has been no grille around the front. The Neglinnaya River simply poured into the Moscow River from a gap within the banks that ended a couple of foot above the outside, inflicting the Neglinnaya to shape a small waterfall. Sherlock edged ahead. protecting directly to the brickwork with one hand, he leaned out and regarded sideways, alongside the banks of the Moscow River. It ran among stone partitions. If there has been any soil, any sand, any flooring in any respect there then it was once hidden underneath the skin of the water. having a look up, Sherlock may perhaps see that the head of the outlet wherein the Neglinnaya poured used to be possibly six toes lower than the extent of the streets. An iron ladder, flakes of crimson rust breaking via black paint, led up from simply beside the outlet. the difficulty was once, Sherlock knew, that if he went up that ladder he could simply prove within the hands of the policeman and the fellow who had accused him of stealing his pockets. He regarded alongside the road of the river back, and spotted anything that he had ignored prior to: a line the place the stones have been set again by means of a foot or so. It looked as if it would ensue each six ft in top: most likely an try out through the architect to make sure that the distance above the river acquired wider the better it went, possibly to prevent flooding. regardless of the cause, it intended that Sherlock had a manner out. All he needed to do used to be part his means alongside that line of stones like a guy jogging a tightrope. It took him part an hour of cautious manoeuvring, within which he virtually fell thrice into the waters of the Moscow River because it flowed underneath him. He started out rainy and chilly and ended up dry and frozen, even if he wasn’t definite even if that was once as the wind channelled through the stone-clad riverbanks had dried him or as the water soaking his outfits had frozen into ice. whilst he ultimately discovered one other rusted iron ladder to take him as much as the skin he used to be lucky sufficient to work out a brazier quite a few yards away, choked with burning coals. a neighborhood Russian guy was once roasting chestnuts over the coals. For a couple of kopeks he enable Sherlock hot himself beside the brazier. After part an hour, and baggage of roasted chestnuts, Sherlock felt human sufficient to go again to the inn.