Holmes must have listened well to his police acquaintance to have gathered such a wealth of information.
“To come to the crime,” Holmes resumed. “I would agree with the sergeant that there was some contention as to various incidents that occurred prior to the event. It is said that Mrs. Addleton found Mary coming out of the apprentices’ room and that she was clad only in her nightgown. Mrs. Addleton reproved her for this impropriety. Mary claimed she had been seeking a packet of candles, and was pert. Mrs. Addleton gave her notice and Mary cried, swore she was misjudged, promised never to do such a thing again, and Mrs. Addleton’s mother, a Mrs. Danforth, persuaded her daughter to give the girl a second chance, pointing out that in the years she had worked for them she had never done such a thing before. Mary was forgiven and it was agreed that she was to retain her employment.
“This is where some disagreement arises. Mary says that she had always been happy at the Addletons, that she wanted to stay there, and that she had no animus against Mrs. Addleton. Mrs. Addleton says that Mary became sullen after this incident, that she continued pert and lacking in respect. She believed Mary held a grievance against her because of her reproofs. The second maid, Janet Pierce, a woman older than Mary but junior to her in status and salary, claims that Mary told her ‘she could never again like Mrs. Addleton.’”
I noted the words used. “Do you think she bore false witness, thinking that if Mary were gone she would inherit her place and salary?”
“It is a possibility. The truth of the matter is that where Mary appeared sullen, she may instead have feared for her employment and been afraid to be as open with her employer as before. It is probable that the girl was unhappy at her scolding and may have continued distressed, speaking less to her employer, and that apprehensive brevity gave an appearance of pertness in her speech. Which, my dear Watson, is where we come to the poisoning. It is said that on the cook’s day off, Mary often did the cooking. She had been well-trained by her mother and was a good, plain cook, that being another of the reasons she was better paid than most maids.”
“So she was a maid, did some of the household accounts, and cooked for the family one day a month? A talented girl.”
“Yes. And that is where the trouble lies. It is said, and she agrees to it, that now and again she suggested dishes to Mrs. Addleton. Mary’s mother continued to teach her dishes, some regional and some rich, suitable for visiting authors who would like either the taste of home, or to be, as they might see it, complimented by a dish normally served to those of greater consequence. One of these specialties was yeast dumplings. Mrs. Addleton, having eaten them before at the home of a wealthier friend, was unsure about allowing Mary to make the dish. It is expensive to make, and can easily go wrong. Mary continued to plead to be allowed to prepare it for the household, and at last, using her own money, bought yeast and made the dish for herself, the other maid, and the two apprentices, who all enjoyed it greatly.”
“Without any ill-effects?” I suspected what was coming.
“Exactly so, Watson. Two weeks later, when it was the cook’s day off, Mrs. Addleton agreed that Mary could make the family yeast dumplings for dinner. The family members would eat these; Mary was to make shepherd’s pie for herself, the other staff, and two apprentices since the other dish was costly. Mary made the shepherd’s pie first. Then she made the yeast dough for the dumplings and set it to rise.
“And here is where accounts begin to differ strongly. Mrs. Addleton is certain that no one else entered the kitchen once the dough was set out, but Mary says that Michael Bishop was in and out on one occasion. Mrs. Addleton says that the other maid was upstairs the whole time and never entered the kitchen, while Mary says that Janet was definitely in the kitchen twice: once when she came to get milk to make the sauce, and again when she returned the empty milk jug.
“Mrs. Addleton says that not only did no one enter the kitchen, but that Mary was alone in the kitchen, never leaving it the entire time that the dough was rising and until the dumplings were made. Mary says that she left the kitchen once to check if the coal ordered had been placed in the correct cellar, while Mrs. Addleton is adamant that no coal had been ordered or was delivered that day. In addition to these other possible comings and goings, Mrs. Addleton was herself in and out of the kitchen during that period since she asked twice upon her return why the dough had not risen so well as it ought.” He looked at me. “What do you think of that, Watson?”
“That they’re all liars, that Mary is a persistent liar, or that as a whole they are the least noticing group of people ever to be seen.”
Holmes appeared thoughtful. “A fair comment. It will be our task to determine which is correct, and ascertain if Miss Mary’s story be the truth.”
2
My friend stood to reach the Persian slipper in which he kept his tobacco and refilled his pipe. Mrs. Hudson came in then with a tray of scones and a fresh pot of tea and we fell to, after which, the tray having been removed, I ventured to ask a question.
“Did they ask the Bishop lad if he had been in the kitchen that day?”
“No, they did not, nor do I know the reason for this, Watson. It may be that he was never near the dough or dumplings and that, rightly or wrongly, the authorities regarded it as irrelevant. Janet Pierce was asked if she entered the kitchen and swore she had not. I discount that, as there is other evidence that she obtained milk to make a sauce for the dumplings, and she would have entered the kitchen from the scullery where she was doing this, for the purpose. The only doubt is what time she did so. Mrs. Addleton’s own evidence is proven to be wholly wrong on one count, too. The coal merchant’s deliveryman did indeed call that day, since the merchant’s own accounts confirm it.”
“Do you think her to have lied, or merely not noticed?”
“I cannot say, Watson, not as yet. To continue. Whether because Mrs. Addleton was constantly interrupting Mary’s work to ask about the dough or not, the dough did not rise well and the dumplings were of poor quality. They were apparently overcooked, heavier, and not all that they should have been.”
I frowned. “If that was the case, why did Mrs. Addleton expect her family to eat them?”
“Because of the expense of the dish, Mrs. Addleton insisted that they be served for the evening meal. Mrs. Danforth, who is not always in good health, had earlier taken a light meal of scrambled eggs with hot buttered toast and a pot of tea, and retired to bed. Of the dumplings, Mrs. Addleton was served one, her husband three, and his father two. It seems that both the father and husband took time to drink a convivial glass of wine before they began on the dumplings, so the lady ate first.”
I saw it was the waste of money to which Mrs. Addleton objected, yet even so…
“Mrs. Addleton says that almost at once after consuming her dumpling she found herself in great pain. The symptoms increased and she began experiencing nausea and stomach pains. She went upstairs to lie down and was unpleasantly ill. A doctor was called three hours later. Her husband was the next victim, and soon after he had eaten one dumpling and part of another, he fell ill with the same symptoms as his wife and retired hastily from the table. His father says that he ate slowly because the dumplings were not entirely to his liking, and he had consumed only a small portion of one before his son became violently ill. He observed that his son was pale and sweating, and he was deeply concerned.”
Holmes leaned back and puffed on his pipe for a moment. “Here is one of the interesting events. The uneaten dumplings were removed to the kitchen, where Mary consumed one whole dumpling, while the younger apprentice, Jonathan, wished to taste the one that was partially eaten, but Mary said he should not, that the food was cold and would lie heavy. Ignoring her, he took a mouthful, around the size of a walnut only, but he also finished the remains of the sauce to the last drop.”
“And how did they fare?” I asked eagerly.
“Mary was ill, but while Jonathan became sick, he was not so ill that he could not go to his m
aster when he was called. His master sent him at once to fetch Mrs. Danforth to attend her daughter, and she, upon seeing how all three of them were placed, called the doctor at once.”
“In other words,” I said, having thought it out, “everyone who ate even the smallest amount of dumpling was ill. The apprentice, Jonathan, who ate the least, was the least sick, although he had eaten the remainder of the sauce as well. Would this not tend to indicate that the sauce was blameless?”
“That is one explanation. And here too is something else that reflects badly upon the character of Janet Pierce. While Mary was ill in her room, her father came to the door to see his daughter, to ask her if she was coming by the next evening since it was her mother’s birthday and she could walk there and back after her work. Janet told him that Mary was out on an errand, although she well knew that the girl was upstairs laid on her bed. Janet seems to be a woman who enjoys mischief-making for its own sake, and who lies for amusement.”
“What poison do they say was used?”
“Ah, that is interesting, Watson. In the main office there is a cabinet of two drawers: one smaller upper drawer; and a much larger lower one usually containing discarded paper, contracts that had been cast off as irrelevant since they had been altered, drafts of manuscripts that had been later re-written, and other such waste paper. From that, Mary, Janet, or the cook, Mrs. Marcham, would take such paper as might be useful to light fires or the kitchen range. Jonathan Turner says that Mary often took such paper, but Mary denies it, saying that on any occasion where she might require such she always asked Michael Bishop for it. Note two things here, Watson. Firstly that she had a right to take paper if she wished, and secondly that it seems, once again, no one asked Bishop to confirm or deny her claim.”
“Why?” I asked. “That is twice that the young man could have given valuable evidence.”
“There has been a veil of silence over that so far, and it is something into which I plan to inquire,” Holmes assured me. “Now, the cabinet is interesting for another reason. In the upper drawer, used as a minor medicine chest, there was, as well as throat lozenges and panegyrics, a small parcel of arsenic. Not for medicine, unless one counts the disposal of mice as such. However there it was placed, and it is possible that knowing it was there and hearing that there was a suspicion the family had been poisoned, Mary chose to deny that she ever accessed the cabinet. There are indications that the doctor and then the police assumed the worst immediately, and that suspicion will have been conveyed to her in their questioning.”
“What of the times that it was seen?”
“Yes, the parcel was particularly noticed on March 17th. Old Mr. Addleton swears to that as he was considering laying some about the outbuildings and was called away before he could do so, after which he forgot. He can recall the exact date since he was called to the Post Office to take delivery of a parcel of manuscript, which must be signed for. However, when eventually the police were called in, the arsenic was gone. They searched the house but found no trace of it.”
“Was the cabinet kept locked?”
“It was not. Mr. Addleton says that since all it contained was medicine and waste paper it was not thought necessary.”
“Who called in the police?”
“Ah, yes. That was old Mr. Addleton. He says around eight the next morning, having recovered from his illness, he wondered if the cause of it might not have been some sort of poisoning….”
“You mean that even then he thought of the arsenic?”
“No, he was considering food poisoning. He went to the kitchen, and the dirty dishes were still there, Mary having been so ill and not having yet washed up, nor the cook returned. Some dough still clung to the side of the pan in which it had been set to rise and this pan was filled with water, which he stirred. He found traces of white powder that settled to the bottom. He was concerned and at once locked up pan and powder with the intention of asking the doctor what he thought this to be.”
“What did the doctor say?”
“A moment and I shall get to that. Mr. Addleton Senior’s investigations were not yet completed. He also found that the knives with which the dumplings had been cut were blackened about the blades. Finding that odd, he locked up two with the pan. He asked Mary, who had somewhat recovered by then, “What was in your dumplings that made us so ill?” She replied that she had used only the most wholesome ingredients, and blamed the milk that Janet had used. And here, Watson, is where a case began to take shape.”
I sat up straighter, paying the fullest attention.
“Mrs. Danforth had also come down to the kitchen and it was she who put her finger on a most salient point. ‘That cannot be so,’ she said. ‘Jonathan ate only a small piece of one dumpling and was moderately ill, but he also, as he confessed to me, finished all of the uneaten sauce and that was a good half of the jug full. If it had been the sauce he would have been far more unwell than any of my family since none of them had more than a spoonful or two of the sauce.’ Mrs. Danforth also says that at this point Mary appeared guilt-stricken and left the kitchen in haste.”
“Do you believe that?”
“Hindsight is a wonderful thing,” was all that Holmes said.
“And the doctor? What had he to say of Mr. Addleton Senior’s investigations?”
“That the powder was arsenic,” Holmes said in a way that betrayed his disgust. I looked at him and waited. “It was a farce, Watson. The doctor appears to have made up his mind from the beginning. His so-called tests of the powder consisted of washing the pan around with more water, stirring that, and pouring off the excess moisture to look at the powder, which, apparently and solely because it was white, he declared to be arsenic. He looked at the knives, announced that the blackening was caused by arsenic, and left both items at that. When he was questioned by the police, he stated that, ‘all the symptoms were caused by arsenic poisoning, I have no doubt of it.’ As a result of his statement Mary Fellowes was immediately arrested and charged with the attempted poisoning of the Addleton family.”
I looked at him. “But how did it come about that she was convicted? I do not find the case convincing, and British Justice says that the accused is innocent until proven guilty. All this is smoke and shadows, Holmes. The mistress says, the other maid says, Mary contradicts them and her word is as good as theirs, moreover in some aspects of what they said, they are proven wrong. Why did the jury convict?”
“There is more, Watson. At the trial, of course, many gave evidence. Mrs. Addleton spoke of finding Mary in the apprentices’ room and reproving her, and of Mary’s sullen aspect thereafter. Janet swore that Mary had said she would never like the Addletons again. She did admit, however, that when the events to which she testified happened, she and Mary were at odds over some minor trifle. Jonathan Turner said on oath that Mary had taken paper from the cabinet recently in his presence. Mr. Addleton complained that Mary had not come to help them when she knew them to be ill. Mr. Addleton Senior told how he had discovered the powder in the pan and spoke of the blackened knives. The doctor said flatly that all was consistent with the family having been poisoned with arsenic, and the jury believed him.”
“What did Mary’s lawyer say to all this?”
“The man was an incompetent, or else having already been paid, he was quite uninterested in working for his money. Mary, when she was called, said that she could have explained why she had been found in the apprentices’ room but her mistress had not allowed her to make any explanation. She had been sleepwalking, having dreamed that she must get up and do some urgent task, but that as it was dark and she could find no lamp, in her sleepwalking state she was searching for candles. When her mistress cried out at her, she woke and said what she remembered, that she was seeking a packet of candles. She had no knowledge of what room she had been found to be leaving.”
“That is not unlikely,” I agreed.
“Maybe so, but the jury did not find it credible. Mary said that she had no animus against
her mistress for the misunderstanding, and that she liked the family well. I fancy the jury, putting themselves in her place, and if her explanation had been true, accepted that they would have felt angry and illused and believed they must have been Mary’s emotions as well. Mary protested that Mr. Addleton’s complaint that she had not come to help the family was unfair, since she herself had been stricken. And that she had always asked the apprentice to fetch waste paper for her if required. They confronted her with Jonathan Turner and she protested that it was not he that she asked, but Michael Bishop, and begged that he be called.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “That is important, Holmes. Why was he never called? She said he had been in the kitchen once while she was working, and that he always provided the paper for her. He might also have been able to give evidence as to Mrs. Addleton being absent from the kitchen and the other maid being in and out. I would have thought these crucial points.”
“Yes,” my friend said thoughtfully. “As would I. However this produced an unusual exchange. The prosecutor rebuked her, saying that she should have asked for the young man to be called before. Mary protested that she had asked, and that she wanted him to be called now. The prosecutor said that it was too late and Jonathan Turner was recalled instead and further questioned.” Here Holmes appeared to be quoting.
“‘Let me be clear upon this, Mr. Turner, the prisoner at a time shortly before the attempt upon the Addletons’ lives occurred, took paper from the cabinet and lit a fire in the office?’
“‘Yes, sir. It was done before me and I have seen her do so on other occasions.”’
Sherlock Holmes Page 2
