Read Online The Midwinter Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes: Three Adventures & The Grand Gift of Sherlock by Craig Janacek - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Craig Janacek
Ads: Link
contemplate this stunning turn of events. He finally rallied. “Is this so, Mr. Vaughan? Do you admit to taking the Fowler’s solution from Dr. Lowe?”
Vaughan had been following Holmes’ train of logic with wide eyes, and stared at Holmes for another moment before answering the inspector. “Yes, sir. I do recall taking the bottle. Dr. Lowe could not have administered the poison.”
Lestrade contemplated this for a moment, then motioned to one of his constables. “We best take Mr. Vaughan into custody, then. Manslaughter, at least, I suppose.”
Holmes shook his head. “That will be a waste of your time, Lestrade. Do you not recall the Bradford Sweets case?” [215] From the blank look upon the inspector’s face, the answer was clear, therefore Holmes continued. “In 1858, peppermint lozenges accidentally made with a high concentration of arsenic were sold in the Bradford central market. Over two hundred people were sickened and approximately twenty died. Even the laws regulating foodstuffs were altered in response to this terrible case. But all three men who contributed to the inclusion of the arsenic into the sweets were eventually acquitted. I am certain that any barrister retained for Mr. Vaughan’s defense will cite this precedent and ensure his swift release.” [216]
“So I am just to let them both go?”
Holmes nodded. “That would be my advice.”
Lestrade rose from his seat, shaking his head in confusion. “Alright, Pollock,” he said to his constable, “you may remove the restraints from Dr. Lowe. Then go home to your family.” He turned back to Holmes. “A strange business, Holmes.” He shrugged, tipped his hat at me, and departed, leaving us alone with Mr. Vaughan, Miss Hopton, and Dr. Lowe.
The latter rose from his seat, still rubbing his sore wrists, but plainly desirous of seeing his wife and home again after two days in the Bow Street Cells. “I don’t know how to thank you, Mr. Holmes.”
“A minute, doctor,” Holmes forestalled him. “Are you not curious to learn why Mr. Vaughan sought to frame you for the poisoning?”
“What?” the doctor exclaimed.
We turned to where sat Vaughan, whose face had once more taken on a bloodless appearance. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he stammered.
Holmes frowned at him. “Take care, Mr. Vaughan. I will give you one chance to be honest with us. I have almost every link in my hands, and with one untruth from you, I will swiftly call Lestrade back here. I am certain the inspector will be more than happy to find you a permanent berth at Newgate,” said he, sternly.
Vaughan nodded, a look of despair in his eyes. “If you knew, why did you tell the inspector that I was delirious when I poured the arsenic?”
“Because I suspected that there was more to the story.”
“What do you wish to know?”
“Tell me about Miss Miriam Pearl,” Holmes commanded.
At the sound of this name, Vaughan’s face sank into his hands and his body was wracked with sobs. I was surprised to note that Dr. Lowe also visibly startled and paled, sinking back into his chair. Miss Pearl’s name seemed familiar to me, though I could not place it.
“Why torture me so, Mr. Holmes?” cried Vaughan in anguish. “You know all!”
“Indeed,” said Holmes grimly. “I suspected the presence of another individual in this mystery when I saw the framed picture at your bedside.”
“Queen Victoria?” I asked, mystified.
“Indeed, Watson. Though it was not always our glorious majesty. I could tell that her picture was not intended for that frame, for it was a fraction of an inch too small. And it is a rare man so patriotic as to have such a picture at his bedside. It is much more common to have the picture of someone you care for deeply, so that theirs is the last gaze you look upon when you turn out the lights.”
I frowned. “But why suddenly replace the picture?”
“Because Miss Pearl is the real key to the whole mystery, which spans
Vaughan had been following Holmes’ train of logic with wide eyes, and stared at Holmes for another moment before answering the inspector. “Yes, sir. I do recall taking the bottle. Dr. Lowe could not have administered the poison.”
Lestrade contemplated this for a moment, then motioned to one of his constables. “We best take Mr. Vaughan into custody, then. Manslaughter, at least, I suppose.”
Holmes shook his head. “That will be a waste of your time, Lestrade. Do you not recall the Bradford Sweets case?” [215] From the blank look upon the inspector’s face, the answer was clear, therefore Holmes continued. “In 1858, peppermint lozenges accidentally made with a high concentration of arsenic were sold in the Bradford central market. Over two hundred people were sickened and approximately twenty died. Even the laws regulating foodstuffs were altered in response to this terrible case. But all three men who contributed to the inclusion of the arsenic into the sweets were eventually acquitted. I am certain that any barrister retained for Mr. Vaughan’s defense will cite this precedent and ensure his swift release.” [216]
“So I am just to let them both go?”
Holmes nodded. “That would be my advice.”
Lestrade rose from his seat, shaking his head in confusion. “Alright, Pollock,” he said to his constable, “you may remove the restraints from Dr. Lowe. Then go home to your family.” He turned back to Holmes. “A strange business, Holmes.” He shrugged, tipped his hat at me, and departed, leaving us alone with Mr. Vaughan, Miss Hopton, and Dr. Lowe.
The latter rose from his seat, still rubbing his sore wrists, but plainly desirous of seeing his wife and home again after two days in the Bow Street Cells. “I don’t know how to thank you, Mr. Holmes.”
“A minute, doctor,” Holmes forestalled him. “Are you not curious to learn why Mr. Vaughan sought to frame you for the poisoning?”
“What?” the doctor exclaimed.
We turned to where sat Vaughan, whose face had once more taken on a bloodless appearance. “I don’t know what you are talking about,” he stammered.
Holmes frowned at him. “Take care, Mr. Vaughan. I will give you one chance to be honest with us. I have almost every link in my hands, and with one untruth from you, I will swiftly call Lestrade back here. I am certain the inspector will be more than happy to find you a permanent berth at Newgate,” said he, sternly.
Vaughan nodded, a look of despair in his eyes. “If you knew, why did you tell the inspector that I was delirious when I poured the arsenic?”
“Because I suspected that there was more to the story.”
“What do you wish to know?”
“Tell me about Miss Miriam Pearl,” Holmes commanded.
At the sound of this name, Vaughan’s face sank into his hands and his body was wracked with sobs. I was surprised to note that Dr. Lowe also visibly startled and paled, sinking back into his chair. Miss Pearl’s name seemed familiar to me, though I could not place it.
“Why torture me so, Mr. Holmes?” cried Vaughan in anguish. “You know all!”
“Indeed,” said Holmes grimly. “I suspected the presence of another individual in this mystery when I saw the framed picture at your bedside.”
“Queen Victoria?” I asked, mystified.
“Indeed, Watson. Though it was not always our glorious majesty. I could tell that her picture was not intended for that frame, for it was a fraction of an inch too small. And it is a rare man so patriotic as to have such a picture at his bedside. It is much more common to have the picture of someone you care for deeply, so that theirs is the last gaze you look upon when you turn out the lights.”
I frowned. “But why suddenly replace the picture?”
“Because Miss Pearl is the real key to the whole mystery, which spans
Similar Books
