Repeat Business

by Lyn McConchie

  The young man leapt to his feet, anger blazing in his eyes. “Sir! I know not why you should make such imputations. The lady is my cousin, the beloved daughter of my uncle, a man who gave all he had that my father should be free in the land he chose. That debt now is mine and I honor it. I will bid you good day.”

  He strode for the door and was halted only by the voice behind him. “I must humbly beg your pardon, but previous experience has not given me a high opinion of the men of the Sutherland family.”

  Josiah turned back. “Ah, I understand. You speak of Mr. Hosmer Angel, and Mr. Windibank. I would remind you, sir, that neither man was of Sutherland blood.”

  Holmes looked at me as he explained further. “I tell you, Watson, I was astounded as that comment. How could he know of that? I believed that Miss Mary had not guessed, and I had never spoken of it to any save the man himself and you. I asked that of the young man, and he smiled.

  “You underestimate my cousin while overestimating her stepfather. So terrified and enraged was he that some months later he could not forbear to speak of his evil plan and how it had almost failed. He spoke to his wife, my cousin Mary’s mother, in—as he believed—complete privacy, but by a complete accident Mary overheard what was said and was struck to the heart.

  “She considered taking a small room where she could at least work at her typing without remaining all day within that household, and that I know she did. However, her mother’s earnest entreaties decided her to remain under their roof, although she was no longer happy in that position. I have brought with me a number of her letters including in particular the letter in which she recounted to me the pitiful tale of her deception, and asking my advice.”

  Holmes took the letter in his long fingers. “And what advice did you give her?”

  “That she should leave that accursed household at once. What sort of mother allows a man to so trick her daughter? What woman stands as an accomplice to treat her only child in such a way?”

  “A woman whose charms are fading and who is desperate to retain the affections of a younger man, one she knows clings to her for the money alone, which she provides. It was to keep Mary’s income within the house that she permitted Mr. Windibank to pretend to be another and ensnare the affections of Mary. It was ill-done, but if they were desperate to retain her daughter and her income without knowledge of their trickery, would they not have been still more anxious that she should not leave if they believed she now knew of their wicked actions and might publish them abroad to others?”

  Josiah Sutherland nodded. “I fear, sir, that my advice may have placed Mary in danger, since her last letter states that she intended to take my advice and depart the family home, never to return. I deem my cousin to be a woman of determined character, but perhaps not blessed with an ability to deceive. She is straightforward and of a trusting nature. She planned to take rooms in the city, but I received no further letter and I wonder now if she was ever able to leave. In short, I fear that even now she may be imprisoned or dead. It is for that that I have come to beg your aid to discover the truth.”

  “Why do you fear for her?”

  “Ah, that is the crux of my story. It was like this, Mr. Holmes. I arrived by ship at the port of London three weeks gone, took a cab on disembarking, and settled myself, together with my luggage, at a convenient hotel of decent repute. I slept early and rose to eat, after the meal I set out to find my cousin. At the address of the room she rented for her work I was told by the building’s caretaker that Mary had departed some time earlier, leaving only a brief note giving up the room and enclosing a sovereign to cover the lack of notice. I went to the address where she had lived previously, and her mother informed me that my cousin was very sick and could see no one.

  “For eight days I made regular attempts to see Mary, but I was never allowed past the doorstep. Finally, when I would have insisted more boldly, her mother threatened me with violence by her stepfather and with the law. I was told that Mary was ill, and that if I did not go away, they would summon the police and lay charges of attempted house-breaking against me.”

  “Did it not strike you as an extreme measure to threaten against one who was related and concerned only to see his cousin?”

  “It did indeed, Mr. Holmes, so much so that I left looking meek, but began at once to make other inquiries about the neighborhood. It is that which has made my fear for Mary grow. She has not been seen to leave with any luggage; indeed, she has not been seen to come or go at all in the past few months. Her mother and stepfather have told this tale of her illness abroad, but I have heard some suspicion that it is not so.”

  “What, then, is believed?”

  “That 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 i
s 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 took up the room, I escorted my wife to her dressmaker. She went ahead while I paused to read the paper I had just purchased. The stairs are long and steep, and just as she reached the top of one flight my wife slipped. She would have fallen and perhaps been severely injured, were it not that Miss Mary was coming down the stairs and instantly caught hold of her, swinging her to one side against the banisters which my wife seized and regained her footing without harm.

  Holmes nodded slowly. “I see, you naturally introduced yourselves, thanked her for the service and continued to nod and exchange greetings whenever you saw her after that.”

  “Exactly so, sir. But it was only two weeks later when I was waiting for my wife that I observed Miss Mary under different circumstances. I should say that the dressmaker prefers I do not smoke within her rooms and I had come out into the passage to smoke in peace. I was standing in the shadows by the turn of the stairs on the flight above when I observed Miss Mary being assisted from her room. She appeared quite dazed, her face was white, and she seemed unable to stand or walk without help.

  “I would have spoken, offered my aid, but that those who were with her moved very quickly. They had her down the stairs and into a hansom while I was still trying to decide if I should make my presence known to them. Mr. Sutherland has already asked, but I can tell you little about them, save that one was a man and the other a woman. The man wore a muffler about his face, while the woman had a heavy veil.”

  “But you followed them down the stairs. How close were you when they spoke to the driver?”

  “I heard a portion of the address since I was still walking towards them as they addressed him. I heard neither number nor street, but I distinctly heard the man say the name of the suburb.” He repeated that and the three of us exchanged glances. It was the area in which Miss Mary and the Windibanks resided.

  “That is most useful, and I believe you may have done her a great service, sir,” Holmes said. “Now, of your courtesy answer my questions, and it may be that I can bring from your memory some small information on that pair with Miss Mary.”

  He questioned Mr. Hackett tirelessly—and in the end—both men left each looking as weary as the other.

  “What do you think, Holmes? Do you believe the letter was truly from Miss Mary?”

  Holmes shook his head. “No, but it gives me hope she is alive yet. Meanwhile, I shall call on two of my young friends for aid.”

  I listened to his instructions and went in search of two of the Baker Street Irregulars—as they were known. Having found them, I too gave certain instructions, and returned to find Holmes closeted with Inspector Bradstreet, who rose to leave just as I entered.

  “I’ll be nearby, Mr. Holmes. Never you fear. Just blow your whistle and I and a couple of my men will come running.” With that he departed and I nodded to Holmes.

  “The lads will do as you instruct. They’ll be watching and waiting.”

  “Good. Then in a few hours, Watson, we will know the truth. Bring your medical bag, it may be required.”

  I was ready to depart when he was, and at five o’clock that evening we set out for the Windibanks’ home. We met Josiah Sutherland waiting by the door and when that was opened to him we stepped quietly behind the hedge. One boy came from the lane behind the house and winked as he passed. Two boys passed us after that and Holmes nodded at them but without speaking. The lads vanished around the side of the house and we continued to wait.

  At last our client reappeared, looking distressed and anxious. I took his arm and led him down the road a short
distance before we halted. Holmes addressed him quietly.

  “Did you see your cousin?”

  “I cannot say, Mr. Holmes. They took me to a darkened room that lies up a short flight of stairs. Her illness has made her appear almost twice the age that I know her to be. She speaks in a whisper, and must pause often to take a sip of water. Yet, she knows much of my family and circumstances, and I cannot swear it is not Mary since I have never seen her before.”

  Holmes pursed his lips slightly. “I think it was not. Wait while I hear the reports I am expecting momentarily.” He signaled and the three lads came from the cover of various fences and hedges.

  “Well?”

  We listened and, as we heard their reports, Josiah Sutherland’s face grew white.

  “In God’s name, Mr. Holmes, we must act!”

  “We shall. Follow me.”

  He strode back to the Windibank house and beat upon the door. It was opened a little distance and that reluctantly, but Holmes thrust forward. As he did so he placed a whistle to his lips and blew. I heard running feet as Mr. Windibank fell back from the door, a look of horror on his face.

  “You cannot come in, I forbid it. My daughter is too ill to see anyone again today.”

  Holmes brushed him aside. But to my surprise he did not make for the upper room described by Josiah, but for the kitchen. There he dragged a mat from its place and, to my astonishment, I saw a trapdoor set within the planking.

  “Hold them away, Watson, while I go into this dungeon.” His words gave me the truth—or some part of it—and I at once produced my revolver to order Miss Mary’s unnatural parents to stand back. Holmes reappeared within minutes, the wasted form of a girl in his arms. He placed her on the low settle and turned to me.

  “I think it is mostly starvation which ails her, Watson. See what you can do while I speak to Inspector Hardcastle.” I saw that he was right as I studied the poor girl, and held a reviving cordial to her lips. She managed to smile at me, and then her smile widened into a joyful beam as Josiah came into her view over my shoulder. Her voice was very weak but clear.