Read Online The Midwinter Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes: Three Adventures & The Grand Gift of Sherlock by Craig Janacek - Free Book Online
Authors: Craig Janacek
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been treating him for only a few weeks.”
“I should say so!”
“Then let us move on to the second issue. It took me a while to recognize the significance of this finding.”
“What is that, Holmes?”
“I refer, Watson, to the curious nature of the glass of Scotch whisky.”
“But the whisky was not poisoned!” Lestrade protested.
“That is what is so curious. Why did Mr. Vaughan ask Dr. Lowe to trudge downstairs for a glass of Scotch whisky that he did not drink? And if he was so inclined, why did Dr. Lowe not take this ideal chance to poison Mr. Vaughan? Why wait, and in so waiting, also doom Reverend Arden and Mrs. Molyneux?”
“It would have been too obvious that the doctor did it,” exclaimed Lestrade.
“And so he killed two innocent people to cover his tracks?” Holmes concluded.
Lestrade smiled contentedly. “Exactly.”
I shook my head. “But his glass was also poisoned!”
“But Lowe did not taste it. He was called away,” concluded Lestrade.
“Ah, that leads us to the third item,” said Holmes. “The summons to an imaginary crisis. But who sent the note?”
“The doctor sent it to himself, of course!”
“Did he? Constable, if you check the front steps, I think that you will discover two young boys. They may not look completely respectable, but if you would ask them to come up, I think they can shed some light on our mystery.”
The man looked at Lestrade for instructions, who merely shrugged and nodded. The constable soon returned with two individuals in tow, the scruffy Wiggins and a slightly more properly-dressed lad of a similar age.
Holmes smiled. “Wiggins, were both tasks successful?”
“Yes, guv’nor,” he replied, handing Holmes a pale green envelope. “And this here is Ned. He brung the note for the doctor here two days ago.”
The boy identified as Ned looked at the constable and nodded nervously.
Holmes reached into his pocket and plucked out a guinea. “Do not be concerned, Ned. You are in no trouble. Can you please tell us who gave you the note for Dr. Lowe and the instructions to come to this house at precisely five minutes after three o’clock?”
“It was her!” he pointed to the maid.
Molly let out a shriek and collapsed. Fortunately, Dr. Braithwaite was standing nearby and caught her before she could hit her head. With some help from the constable, the limp maid was led to a sofa. After Wiggins and Ned were escorted out, a brief application of smelling salts soon brought her around. When she saw all of us gathered around her, she began to sob and wail piteously. “I didn’t poison them!” she reached out to clutch Holmes’ hand. “You must believe me, sir!”
“I do, Miss Hopton. You were given the note by your employer, Mr. Vaughan, were you not?”
“Yes, sir,” she sobbed, “that is correct.”
Holmes nodded, as if another piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. He looked up at the gathered company. “Dr. Braithwaite, thank you for assistance today. If you agree that Mr. Vaughan is on the mend, then I do not think we have any further need of your services.”
Braithwaite agreed and departed, the look in his eyes making plain that he was clearly still puzzled by the strange occurrences in the house and the miraculous recovery from certain death of its owner.
After the door closed, Holmes turned back to the maid. “Now let us come to the last item. In some ways it is the most strange of all. Please Miss Hopton, tell us what the burned note looked like.”
She described the mysterious note again, with its fragile paper.
Lestrade frowned. “I don’t see how that helps us, Mr. Holmes. As you yourself said, the note was completely burned.”
“Ah, but the ashes tell a story of their own. During my investigations, I carefully collected every last piece of ash from the table and the floor. I then weighed those ashes, comparing them to those from an envelope of the same size and containing a single sheet of standard paper.
“I should say so!”
“Then let us move on to the second issue. It took me a while to recognize the significance of this finding.”
“What is that, Holmes?”
“I refer, Watson, to the curious nature of the glass of Scotch whisky.”
“But the whisky was not poisoned!” Lestrade protested.
“That is what is so curious. Why did Mr. Vaughan ask Dr. Lowe to trudge downstairs for a glass of Scotch whisky that he did not drink? And if he was so inclined, why did Dr. Lowe not take this ideal chance to poison Mr. Vaughan? Why wait, and in so waiting, also doom Reverend Arden and Mrs. Molyneux?”
“It would have been too obvious that the doctor did it,” exclaimed Lestrade.
“And so he killed two innocent people to cover his tracks?” Holmes concluded.
Lestrade smiled contentedly. “Exactly.”
I shook my head. “But his glass was also poisoned!”
“But Lowe did not taste it. He was called away,” concluded Lestrade.
“Ah, that leads us to the third item,” said Holmes. “The summons to an imaginary crisis. But who sent the note?”
“The doctor sent it to himself, of course!”
“Did he? Constable, if you check the front steps, I think that you will discover two young boys. They may not look completely respectable, but if you would ask them to come up, I think they can shed some light on our mystery.”
The man looked at Lestrade for instructions, who merely shrugged and nodded. The constable soon returned with two individuals in tow, the scruffy Wiggins and a slightly more properly-dressed lad of a similar age.
Holmes smiled. “Wiggins, were both tasks successful?”
“Yes, guv’nor,” he replied, handing Holmes a pale green envelope. “And this here is Ned. He brung the note for the doctor here two days ago.”
The boy identified as Ned looked at the constable and nodded nervously.
Holmes reached into his pocket and plucked out a guinea. “Do not be concerned, Ned. You are in no trouble. Can you please tell us who gave you the note for Dr. Lowe and the instructions to come to this house at precisely five minutes after three o’clock?”
“It was her!” he pointed to the maid.
Molly let out a shriek and collapsed. Fortunately, Dr. Braithwaite was standing nearby and caught her before she could hit her head. With some help from the constable, the limp maid was led to a sofa. After Wiggins and Ned were escorted out, a brief application of smelling salts soon brought her around. When she saw all of us gathered around her, she began to sob and wail piteously. “I didn’t poison them!” she reached out to clutch Holmes’ hand. “You must believe me, sir!”
“I do, Miss Hopton. You were given the note by your employer, Mr. Vaughan, were you not?”
“Yes, sir,” she sobbed, “that is correct.”
Holmes nodded, as if another piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. He looked up at the gathered company. “Dr. Braithwaite, thank you for assistance today. If you agree that Mr. Vaughan is on the mend, then I do not think we have any further need of your services.”
Braithwaite agreed and departed, the look in his eyes making plain that he was clearly still puzzled by the strange occurrences in the house and the miraculous recovery from certain death of its owner.
After the door closed, Holmes turned back to the maid. “Now let us come to the last item. In some ways it is the most strange of all. Please Miss Hopton, tell us what the burned note looked like.”
She described the mysterious note again, with its fragile paper.
Lestrade frowned. “I don’t see how that helps us, Mr. Holmes. As you yourself said, the note was completely burned.”
“Ah, but the ashes tell a story of their own. During my investigations, I carefully collected every last piece of ash from the table and the floor. I then weighed those ashes, comparing them to those from an envelope of the same size and containing a single sheet of standard paper.
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