The Secret Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes (19 page)

Soon afterwards, we drew up outside a large but ugly grey brick villa, of the style built in the outer suburbs on the Surrey side of the river for prosperous tradesmen and their families. Its name, Laurel Lodge, was apt for the house was fronted by a dense hedge of that thick-leaved shrub, the heavy mass of which cast an air of gloom over the whole edifice.

Several lighted windows, both upstairs and down, and the presence of a uniformed constable on the front door-step suggested that the police were still engaged on their investigation.

The constable seemed inclined to bar our way but, when Holmes produced his card and explained our business there, he knocked on the door whereupon a heavily built sergeant opened it, took one astonished look at Perrott and then, quickly recovering himself, invited us into the hall where he told us to wait while he fetched the inspector.

We had but a few minutes’ grace while the sergeant was upstairs for Holmes to ask one last question, less out of need, I felt, to obtain the information from Perrott than to distract his
attention for he was looking wildly about him as if seeking for the means to make a bolt for it, as he himself had expressed it.

‘I assume,’ said Holmes, indicating a large hall-stand just inside the front door, ‘that this is where you hung your topcoat?’

‘Yes; that’s right,’ Perrott stammered in a faltering voice.

For at that moment, there came a heavy step on the landing and Inspector Needham came down the stairs, followed by the sergeant.

He was a tall, stoop-shouldered man with a drooping moustache which gave his features a lugubrious air despite his obvious delight at Perrott’s unexpected reappearance.

‘Well, well!’ said he. ‘This is a surprise, Mr Perrott. So you’ve decided to come back and face the music, have you? Very wise of you, sir, if I may say so. I take it that it was on the advice of Mr Holmes? I have heard of you, sir. You have quite a reputation among the police force even as far as Camberwell Green. I assume you have taken Mr Perrott as your client? Well, it won’t do him much good because I intend taking him into custody here and now and sending him down to the station in the company of Sergeant Bullifont although where the deuce he’ll find a cab at this time of night, I can’t imagine.’

‘You may take ours, Inspector,’ Holmes said nonchalantly. ‘As I assumed you would wish to arrest my client, I told the cabby to wait at the gate.’

I saw Inspector Needham and his sergeant exchange surprised glances at my old friend’s cool manner as, under their curious gaze, he shook hands with Perrott and added a last remark or two of reassurance.

‘Take courage, Mr Perrott,’ said he. ‘I have every confidence that this absurd charge against you will soon be dropped.’

These comforting words hardly seemed to convince the wretched Perrott for, as he was put into handcuffs and led away by Sergeant Bullifont to the waiting cab, he cast a last, despairing glance over his shoulder at Holmes.

When the front door closed behind them, Inspector Needham said in a jocular manner, ‘Absurd charge, Mr Holmes! I am
afraid you are not fully aware of all the evidence against your client.’

‘No, I am not,’ agreed Holmes. ‘Perhaps you would care to inform me, Inspector, of the precise facts? I assume you have collected some data and that the case against Mr Perrott is not based entirely on supposition or circumstantial evidence.’

‘If it’s facts you want, I can supply you with plenty,’ Needham replied and began to enumerate them on his fingers, holding up each in turn. ‘Fact number one – the sherry glasses from which the accused and his uncle drank were fortunately not washed up with the other dishes after dinner. In the bottom of one of them, I discovered a whitish residue. That has still to be analysed but I have no doubt that it will prove to be poison, probably arsenic.’

‘I am inclined to agree with you,’ Holmes conceded. ‘In a case such as this which appears to concern a will and the inheriting of money, arsenic is often employed as a means of murder. Indeed, it was so widely used in France in the eighteenth century to dispose of unwanted heirs and testators that it became known as the
“poudre
de
succession”
or “inheritance powder”. The Reinsch test
*
will confirm it one way or the other.’

‘You seem to be knowledgeable about poisons, Mr Holmes.’

Needham’s attitude had changed from one of amused tolerance to cautious respect.

‘Oh, I have merely dabbled in the subject,’
†
Holmes said airily. ‘But, tell me, Inspector, how was it that the sherry glasses were so ‘fortunately’ not washed up?’

‘The housemaid couldn’t get into the study to collect them. The room was locked.’

‘Under whose instructions?’

‘Mr Rushton’s, I understand. He had left some important
papers on the desk and he disliked any of the servants, even Miss Butler, the housekeeper, going into the room unless he himself was present. Now for fact number two, Mr Holmes,’ and here a second stubby finger was stabbed into the air.

‘The only other opportunity anyone else in the household had to poison Mr Rushton was during the evening meal. But no one, neither Miss Butler who dined with Mr Rushton, nor his cook and the maids who shared what was left over, suffered any ill effects whatsoever. And if you think someone other than Perrott could have slipped some poison into the decanter of wine, then you’re wrong!’ Inspector Needham sounded positively triumphant at producing this trump card. ‘Miss Butler drank a glass of wine with her meal and the cook had confessed to taking a sip or two from it herself. Moreover, the decanter shows no sign of having been tampered with.

‘And if that isn’t enough, Mr Holmes, when my sergeant searched Mr Perrott’s topcoat pocket, he found a small square of paper. It had been crumpled up but there were some grains of white powder still clinging to the folds. There is no doubt in my mind that it too, when analysed, will prove to be arsenic.’

‘Quite,’ Holmes murmured. ‘But, in giving me your catalogue of data, Inspector, you have omitted one important fact.’

‘What is that?’

‘The last and most important one of all. Mr Perrott himself has admitted he was to inherit a considerable sum on his uncle’s death.’

Needham looked considerably taken aback.

So, too, I must confess, was I. The evidence against Perrott was damning enough without Holmes adding his own contribution which would tip the scales even further against our client.

‘Well, there you are then!’ Needham exclaimed. ‘It is an open and shut case.’

‘It would certainly appear so,’ Holmes replied. ‘However, with your permission, Inspector, I should like to examine some of that evidence for myself. I am sure you would not wish to obstruct me in my attempts to clear my client.’

‘If it’s the sherry glasses you want to look at, they are already packed up …’ Needham began.

Holmes waved a negligent hand.

‘Oh, I am not at all concerned with those. I am quite sure that, when analysed, the residue will be found to contain arsenic. No; it is the victim’s bedroom I wish to examine. Has the body been removed?’

‘It was taken to the mortuary about quarter of an hour ago.’

Even this information appeared not to discompose my old friend for he replied, ‘No matter. Dr Watson and I shall be quite content with merely looking at the scene where the death took place. You surely have no objections, Inspector?’

‘Very well, Mr Holmes. If you and Dr Watson care to follow me, I shall show you the room. However I should explain,’  Needham added over his shoulder as he preceded us up the stairs, ‘that, although the symptoms pointed to poisoning, the victim died of a heart attack, brought on by a particularly severe attack of nausea. But that doesn’t alter the fact that it was murder, Mr Holmes.’

‘Of course,’ Holmes murmured in agreement.

We had reached an upper landing. Here Needham turned to the left towards the front of the house where, throwing open a door, he announced, ‘Mr Rushton’s bedroom, gentlemen.’

It was a large chamber, furnished with the type of heavy, expensive mahogany pieces which were fashionable thirty or forty years before, including a wash-hand stand, its basin missing, and, just inside the door, a large, high bed which was mercifully stripped of its bedding so that the room presented no evidence that, not long before, Rushton had suffered there from the agonising symptoms of arsenical poisoning with all its attendant and unpleasant effects upon the bowels and stomach.

Holmes and I had remained in the doorway while Needham crossed the room to turn up two gas jets which had been left burning low over the mantelpiece. While he was thus occupied, Holmes, whose glance had been darting keenly about the room, took the opportunity to murmur to me under his breath, ‘Try to distract Needham’s attention for a few moments.’

There was no time for him to offer any further explanation.
The inspector had turned away from his task and, with the room now brightly lit, we, too, advanced into the chamber, Holmes wandering off towards the night-table which stood beside the bed in order to examine a book which was lying on top of it together with a gold pocket-watch and chain and a small oil reading-lamp.

Picking up the volume to read its title, he gave me a small nod which I took to be my cue.

‘As a medical practitioner,’ said I, addressing Needham, ‘I am interested in the effects of arsenical poisoning. I understand the symptoms generally begin within an hour of the toxin being introduced into the system. If Mr Rushton had taken the poison in the sherry wine, served between six and seven o’ clock, he should have shown signs of it during dinner. I take it the ingestion of a heavy meal slowed down the onset of the symptoms?’

‘I believe that is so,’ Needham replied. ‘According to Dr Livesey, Mr Rushton’s own physician who was called in by Miss Butler, it is what must have occurred in this case. Mr Rushton had eaten a three-course dinner and, the stomach being full, the poison took much longer to have its effect.’

He broke off to inquire of Holmes, who had by now moved away from the night-table and was examining with apparent absorption a large and particularly ugly wardrobe against the further wall, ‘Well, Mr Holmes, have you seen enough?’

‘Thank you, yes, Inspector. I should now like to speak to Miss Butler. If that can be arranged to take place in the dining-room, I should be infinitely obliged to you.’

Needham shrugged but he seemed to treat the request with amused resignation rather than annoyance.

‘If you think any good will come of it,’ he replied, leading the way downstairs. ‘Miss Butler has already given me a full account of what happened here this evening and I am perfectly satisfied with her statement. I must, however, insist on being present when you question her.’

‘I have no objections, apart from one proviso,’ Holmes replied. ‘That is, I must be allowed to conduct the interview in my own manner.’

‘As you wish, Mr Holmes,’ Needham agreed, throwing open a door at the rear of the hall and standing aside to allow us to enter.

Like the bedroom, the dining-room was furnished in a heavy, old-fashioned style, on this occasion in dark oak, including a table, large enough to seat ten persons comfortably, and an elaborately carved sideboard.

‘Yes, Holmes, what good will it do?’ I asked when, the inspector having lit the gas jets and departed to fetch Miss Butler, we were left alone in the room. ‘All the evidence so far only confirms Perrott’s guilt. As Needham himself said, it is an open and shut case. Surely you are wasting your time in pursuing it?’

‘The only shut part about it is the inspector’s mind,’ my old friend rejoined. ‘Yours, too, Watson. And that surprises me, my dear fellow. We have already obtained some highly pertinent evidence.’

‘Have we?’ I was astonished. ‘Exactly what, pray?’

I found myself addressing his back for he had again sauntered off, this time to examine the sideboard, first opening the drawers to look inside them in a cursory manner before shutting them and turning his attention to the cupboards underneath.

‘Holmes, what evidence have we discovered?’ I repeated, beginning to feel a little exasperated. Although our client’s life was at stake, Holmes appeared not to be treating the case with much seriousness.

‘Why, to a conspiracy, of course,’ he replied, shutting the sideboard doors and standing upright, one hand placed negligently in his pocket.

‘A conspiracy!’

I was prevented from following up this astounding assertion by a light tap on the door.

‘Come!’ Holmes called out, at which a woman, Miss Butler, I assumed, entered the room, closely followed by Inspector Needham.

She came in almost silently, the only sound the rustle of her long black skirts as they brushed across the carpet and even
that soft murmur of silk ceased as she paused just inside the room.

‘You wished to question me, gentlemen?’ she asked.

I can only speak for myself when I say that she was one of the most fascinating women I have ever encountered although, from the expression on my old friend’s face, I could see that he, too, was brought up short by the sight of her.

She was not beautiful; beautiful is too commonplace a word to describe her although, should I ever be asked to give an account of her physical appearance, I would be forced to fall back on a few conventional phrases. In figure she was slight; of age, about eight and twenty; of carriage, graceful.

Pressed for further details, I would be restrained to add that I was particularly struck by her pallor, a strange-seeming detail but that was one of my first and most lasting impressions.

She was dressed entirely in black, a plain, long-sleeved gown, cut high in the throat and unrelieved by any ornament, not even a brooch or a necklace. Against this sombre attire, her hands, which she held folded together in front of her, and the pale oval of her face stood out as if they had been cut, like cameos, from some translucent material, very simple and yet delicate in outline.

The only colour was in her hair and eyes and those, too, were pale, the hair a light gold and, like the gown, plain, being parted in the centre and smoothed back off the brow in two shining wings, while the eyes were a clear, almost transparent grey.