Sherlock Holmes and the Three Poisoned Pawns by Eddie Maguire & Roger Jaynes & Emanuel E Garcia

Author:Eddie Maguire & Roger Jaynes & Emanuel E Garcia [Maguire, Eddie]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Endeavour Press
Published: 2015-12-22T00:00:00+00:00

THREE

I have to admit that I too was puzzled by all of this. That Holmes was laying some sort of trap for Lady Wilcox was clear enough – but I could not fathom why. If Sir Arthur’s death was indeed a suicide, what had we to gain? Further as a medical man, I did have some reservations about submitting the woman to the grisly scene.

My thoughts were interrupted by Holmes’ hand upon my arm.

“Here, Watson,” he motioned, “we shall crouch down behind the settee.”

Moving quickly about the room, Holmes turned down all but the reading lamps upon the desk, leaving the room in deepest shadow, before returning to my side. I decided to risk one last inquiry.

“This is a bit irregular, you must admit,” I whispered. Holmes smiled faintly.

“So was our sojourn to Briony Lodge,” he replied, “but it produced the desired effect.” He put a finger to his lips. “No more words now, Watson. She should be here any second.”

As we crouched thus in darkness, my brain was flooded with a sense of déjà vu. How often during our years together, had Holmes and I waited thus in order to catch a criminal and see a case through to its conclusion. Our chilling vigil at Stoke Moran, and our long cold stay outside Manor House in Birlstone, immediately came to mind. And now, here we were, waiting in the shadows once again. In this case, however, I felt reasonably certain that the climax was close at hand. What baffled me was the implied involvement of Lady Wilcox, and what Holmes was maybe anticipating. That Sir Arthur was being blackmailed seemed clear. But by whom, and for what reasons? When it came to matters of State, I could not believe he had ever acted dishonourably. Was the cause more close to home I wondered? Davis, it seemed, was not telling all he knew. His story of locked, and unlocked, doors had not set well with me. Had he secretly harboured a grudge against his employer? Might the blackmail notes simply have come from him all along? If so, was his wife an accomplice, providing a timely alibi and assistance? What about the maids – even those of the highest circles, I knew, were not immune to affairs of the heart with their employers?

My mind was awhirl with questions. While I sensed a vague outline of the puzzle, I could not bring the pieces home to fit a theory. Holmes, quite obviously, had observed much that I had missed – and summarily deduced far more than I could imagine. Looking back now, I realise there was no way I could have anticipated what would happen – or that this would be but the first of two tense watches we would undertake on this steamy summer night, before a conclusion was finally reached.

My reverie was suddenly interrupted by the soft click of the latch as the study door swung open. If Holmes was correct, the solution to our problem was at hand. I felt my pulse quicken.

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