After author Anthony Horowitz was appointed the official Sherlock Holmes author by the Arthur Conan Doyle Estate, the book was finally published after eight years of extensive research, interviews, and a long writing period.
It captured the essence of the original more than any other Sherlock Holmes novel, and garnered critical acclaim, becoming a British bestseller.
While prominent authors such as John Dickson Carr and Stephen King have attempted to fill the void left by Conan Doyle by writing works featuring Sherlock Holmes, Anthony Horowitz is the first author of an official Sherlock Holmes novel to be selected by the Conan Doyle Estate in the 81 years since Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's death.
The Arthur Conan Doyle Foundation was founded by Adrian Conan Doyle, a well-known administrator of Sherlock Holmes' works, and has been run directly by the descendants of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. They evaluate Sherlock Holmes works published after the author's death with strict standards, and some works that the foundation officially protested have gone out of print.


In "Sherlock Holmes and the Silk House," Holmes's method of reasoning, which involves deep observation, logical thinking, and brilliant insight, and ultimately leads to a truth that ordinary people would not have thought of, remains the same, but as Dr. Watson mentioned in the introduction, the weight of the crime itself is all too modern and shocking.
The truths revealed in the final two chapters are so bizarre and shocking that they almost feel like a plot twist.
However, Anthony Horowitz fairly spreads out clues for the reader and encourages them to deduce the truth that only Holmes noticed in the novel, so there is a lot of fun in finding the answer by combining the various clues that have been spread out.


Anthony Horowitz, who sold 12 million copies worldwide with his masterpiece 『Alex Ryder series』, which was even made into a movie, fully demonstrated his skills in 『Sherlock Holmes and the Silk House』. Sometimes through logical reasoning, sometimes through action, and sometimes through Dr. Watson's lyrical gaze on the socially disadvantaged, he created an exciting and thrilling Sherlock Holmes story that is as exciting and thrilling as the works of Arthur Conan Doyle, but also leaves a deep aftertaste.

“The flu is a nasty thing,” said Sherlock Holmes.
“But I think you are right in thinking that the child will get better soon with your wife’s care.”
“I wish I could do that too.” I answered, but then looked at him with wide eyes.
The teacup that was in the process of being brought to his lips was thrown onto the table, causing the cup and saucer to almost part ways.
“But Holmes!” I shouted loudly.
"Did you just pop into my head and leave? You didn't say a word about the child or the flu.
You could tell that your wife was out of the house.
You could probably guess that much from the fact that I came here.
But my wife never said anything about why she was out of the house, and I never did anything that could give any clues.”
“You look like I’m some kind of magician,” said Holmes, smiling.
“I guess you don’t read Edgar Allan Poe anymore?”
“Are you talking about the novel with the detective Dupin?” I asked.
“Didn’t he say that he uses a method called reasoning?
That you can read the other person's most secret thoughts even if they don't say anything.
If you study the other person's movements, you can tell everything just by blinking an eyebrow.
I was quite impressed with his idea, but I remember you scoffing a little—”
“And now I’m paying the price,” I admitted honestly.
“But are you saying that you inferred the illness of a child you don’t even know from the way I acted while sitting in front of a plate of scones?”
“That’s not all,” replied Holmes.
“You just came back from Holborn Viaduct.
I left the house in a hurry, but I still missed the train.
Maybe it's because I haven't had a maid lately."
“Holmes!” I shouted loudly.
“How can this be!”
“Am I wrong?”
“No.
All correct.
But how can I… …?”
“It is a simple matter of observation and reasoning, one fact leading to another.
If you listen to my explanation, it will be so pathetic that it will make you feel sick.”
“I still want to hear it, so please explain.”
“Well, since you’ve come all this way, I guess I’ll just have to comply,” Holmes said, yawning.
"Let's start with the circumstances that brought you here. As far as I remember, your second wedding anniversary is coming up soon, isn't that right?"
“That’s right, Holmes.
“The day after tomorrow.”
“Then isn’t this an unusual time to be apart from your wife?
But as you yourself said, there must be a reason why you have to live separately from your wife, since you will be staying with me for a while.
What could be the reason? As I recall, Miss Mary Morton is from India and has no friends or family living here.
I met you there while tutoring the son of Mrs. Cecil Forrester, who lived in Camberwell.
Mrs. Forrester was very kind to her, especially during difficult times, so I'm sure the two of them remain close to this day."
“That’s true.”
“So, the person who called your wife had to be Mrs. Forester.
I was wondering why he had called me in this cold weather, and then I thought it was probably because his child was sick.
“It would be quite helpful for a sick child to have his old tutor by his side.”
“His name is Richard and he’s nine years old,” I added.
“But why did you confidently conclude that it was the flu and not something more serious?”
“If it had been a more serious illness, you would have said you would go.”
“So far, it seems like a fairly simple process of reasoning,” I said.
“But, at that very moment, how did you realize that I was thinking of two people? That part is inexplicable.”
"Dear Watson, will you forgive me if I say you're like an open book to me, turning the pages every time I move? As you sat there sipping your tea, I noticed your gaze drifting toward the newspaper on the table next to you.
You glanced at the headline, then reached out and flipped the newspaper over.
Why? Perhaps it was because I was disturbed by the news about the train crash at Norton Fitzwarren a few weeks ago.
“The first facts revealed in the investigation of the ten dead passengers were published in today’s newspaper. As someone who dropped off your wife at the train station, this must have been the last thing you wanted to see.”
“After reading that article, I thought of my wife on her trip,” I admitted honestly.
“But how did you know the child was sick?”
"Your gaze left the newspaper and turned to the book? To the carpet beside you. I saw it clearly with my own two eyes, and you smiled faintly.
Speaking of that place, it's where you left your royal bag before, so seeing that must have reminded you of why your wife left you."
“You’ve already guessed everything, Holmes,” I argued.
“For example, just take Holburn Viaduct.
“It could have been any station in London.”
"You know how much I condemn the practice of guessing. While it's true that sometimes we need to use our imagination to connect evidence, it's a whole other level of problem than guessing.
Isn't Camberwell where Mrs. Forrester lives?
The London Chatham and Dover Railway operates regular trains from Holborn Viaduct.
I would have taken this fact as a logical starting point anyway, but didn't you listen to me and obediently put your suitcase down at the door?
“From where I’m sitting, I can see the Holborn Viaduct luggage storage tag hanging from the handle.”
“What about the rest of it?”
"There's no maid right now, so you're saying you left the house in a hurry? I can tell both by the black shoe polish on your left sleeve.
You polished your shoes yourself, but you did it a bit haphazardly.
And besides, I was in such a hurry that I forgot my gloves―”
“Well, since Mrs. Hudson accepted my coat, maybe she would have accepted my gloves too.”
"If that were the case, why would your hands have been so cold when we shook hands? No, Watson.
“You are dizzy and untidy from head to toe right now.”
“That’s all true,” I admitted honestly.
“But there is one last thing left, Holmes.
How could you be so sure that your wife missed the train?”
“As soon as you came in, I could smell the strong smell of coffee on your clothes.
He came to me at tea time, so why would he have coffee right before? He must have missed his train, meaning he had to stay with his wife much longer than originally planned.
So, I left my suitcase at the luggage storage and went to the coffee shop with my wife.
"Was it Lockhart Coffee Shop? I heard the coffee there is particularly delicious."
There was a brief silence, and after a while I burst out laughing.
“Oh, Holmes,” I said.
“You didn’t have to worry about your health.
“It’s like the old days, the gun is shining like this.”
“It’s pretty basic,” he said, waving one hand lazily.
“But it seems like something more exciting is about to unfold.
I may be mistaken, but at the entrance right now… … ”

---From the text