Sherlock Holmes: Repeat Business. Lyn McConchie
my cousin has left the family home, perhaps because of some quarrel with her stepfather. It seems that they remarked her growing coldness to him once she knew the truth. But others think there may have been a man deemed unsuitable and forbidden the house, and that she has run away with him. It is generally known that she has an income of her own, she is well of age, and as one woman expressed it to me. ‘There isn’t any reason for her to be staying if she is wanting to leave.’”
“That is true.”
“Then why would they not admit to me that she has gone? Why this tale she is ill and abed? I swear to you, Mr. Holmes, there is some devilry afoot in that house.”
Holmes looked at me. “I tell you, Watson, at that moment I was certain that he was an honest man, concerned only for his cousin, and that he spoke as he believed, but I feared also that he spoke the truth.”
“What did you do, Holmes?”
“I sent the lad back to his hotel to draft an advertisement about his cousin while I read through all of her letters very carefully. That advertisement appeared in the paper several nights ago.” I took up the paper he held out to me and read aloud where he indicated.
“Missing, a young woman named Mary Sutherland who is sought by her cousin, Josiah Sutherland, who may tell her something to her advantage. The lady is solidly built, some 5 ft. 6 in in height, with a round face, blue eyes, light brown hair, and a sensible manner. A reward is offered for information leading to her latest address.”
I particularly noted the suggestion of money behind the inquiry. “Did this produce results, Holmes?”
“It produced a visit from the lady’s mother demanding to have any money coming to her daughter given over to her parents at once.”
“What did her cousin say to that?”
Holmes smiled ironically. “It seems the young man has some ready wit. He told Mrs. Windibank that the advantage mentioned was the principal, which reverted to him on Mary’s death, but that in memory of the affection in which his father had held his brother and niece, Josiah was willing to cancel the reversion clause. With that signed and properly notified before a lawyer, Mary would be able to use all or part of the principal if she wished. In addition, he intended to leave a further sum in trust for her here in London to be used in any emergency and at her discretion.”
I snorted. “And what effect did that have on the fond parents?”
“They continue to insist that Mary cannot see him, but they have taken him out twice to dine, and they have made suggestions that he should consult with their lawyer and go ahead with the intended reversion and trust. Advised by me, Mr. Sutherland has refused, oh, very politely, but he has insisted he will do nothing in this matter until he has seen and spoken to his cousin alone and in private to ascertain her true wishes.”
“I imagine that did not please them,” I commented.
“No, it did not, and they have attempted to change his mind, to no avail. I await their next move with interest. Meanwhile, I too have had inquiries made in the suburb in which the Windibanks live. They bear out what the lad had already discovered, that Miss Mary has not been seen to come or go in four months, and that she was certainly never seen to leave at any time with more than her coat and handbag and a leather folder in which she carries her typing papers.”
”So she is unlikely to have moved away from the family home as she intended?”
“So it would seem.”
“She could have left surreptitiously under cover of darkness?” I suggested.
Holmes smiled. “I think not, Watson. The houses in that area—thought completely detached from one another—still lie close enough together that neighbors tend to know almost everything that occurs. I would say that if Miss Mary had packed and departed, then at the very least her parents would have argued with her, reproaching her and trying to persuade her to remain with them, and that any neighbor within earshot would now be able to tell you every word spoken.”
“Then the girl must still be within the house, surely?”
Holmes’ mien became very serious. “That may be so, Watson, but we must then ask ourselves, in what condition is she if she does indeed remain there still?”
“They would not have dared to murder her?”
“It is to be hoped they have not, and now that her cousin is in the city making a noise about her possible absence, if she was not dead already I doubt they would risk her murder now. But I have some suspicion of the truth; one of her letters was quite informative. We must discover her fate, Watson, free her if she still lives, and if she is dead, I shall bring her murderers to justice.”
I looked at my friend’s set and determined expression, and thought that were I one of the Windibanks, I would at once give over my schemes and make what reparation I could. It was then that I heard approaching footsteps in the passage, Holmes, whose hearing is keener, was already opening the door.
“Mr. Sutherland, you bring a friend and do you have news?”
“I do, Mr. Holmes, but what it may mean I shall look to you to tell me.” The young man and his friend were waved to chairs and Josiah Sutherland began to speak immediately he was seated.
“This morning while I was at breakfast I received two letters, the first from Cousin Mary. It says that she has been ill but is recovering a little, so that she is now able to see a visitor so long as he or she is prepared to accept her conditions. She is suffering from typhoid, her hair has been cut, and she must lie in a darkened room. However, if I am prepared to see her, I shall be admitted tomorrow evening around six o’clock. What do you think of that?”
Meanwhile Holmes and I had been looking at the man Josiah had brought with him.
“I shall know more once your companion here tells me why he has come,” my old friend said quietly. “I suggest the second letter you received was from him. I know nothing of him save that he is a clerk in the city, has a good job, is happily married, and was recently ill.”
The man started to his feet. “Why, sir, how is it that you know these things, do you know me?”
Holmes’ tone was soothing. “I would be a poor detective if I could not see the obvious. There is pallor about your face, which, together with the small ink stain in a certain position on your shirt cuff, suggests you are a clerk; my observing that your waistcoat is a little loose reinforces my belief that you have not been well of late. You have a good job, since your shirts have their own collars and not the detachable type.”
“And my happy marriage?”
“Your shirt is ironed, your hat well brushed, and your handkerchief folded in a slightly fanciful shape. That last is the province of a devoted wife.”
“Wonderful, all they say of you is most certainly true.”
“Yes.” agreed my friend, disinclined to be modest where his own powers were concerned. “But I think you are here to tell me something which I do not know as yet. Please, tell us what you know.”
“My name is Gordon Hackett. You are right, I am a clerk with Witherspoon and Merrison, and I hold a good position in that firm being the head of their administration department. Almost three months ago I contracted influenza and quickly became very ill, so ill that my wife feared for my life. I have been abed for most of that time, and only in the last few days have I been well enough both to go abroad and to read the daily newspapers that my good wife saved for me.
“In one of the latest I discovered Mr. Sutherland’s advertisement and I hastened at once to his hotel. I did not know if what I could tell him would be of use, but I owe Miss Mary a debt which I am eager to repay.”
“What debt?” was Holmes’ immediate question.
“My wife’s dressmaker works in the same building that contains the room rented by Miss Mary. A few days after Mr. Sutherland’s cousin