So, this was my very first Sherlock Holmes story, so it is clearly not the best I have ever written. Despite this, I hope you like it and it would be great, if you could leave me a review.
Also, this used to be the case collection "A loose collection of various cases" which is now dissolved. If you still would like to follow this series, as I will occasionally still post the one or other short story, please sign up with me as author or just keep your eyes open ;). Thank you so much, for all your support, it is greatly appreciated.
The adventure of the missing bride
Shortly before my marriage I started to set up house and practise at a little street near Paddington and even though I still continued to live at 221B Baker Street for the time being I spent most of the day out of house. So one early Friday afternoon in late October I returned to Holmes' and my abode fairly satisfied with my days work only to find once more a stranger sitting in our parlour.
The young man was obviously in great agitation for even though he was dressed in his Sunday best his shirt was wrinkled and stuck out from under his waistcoat. His tie was askew and his hair a complete mess. The fact that Holmes was pouring him some brandy added to my suspicions that a new case was about to enrol in front of us.
"Ah, Watson! Just on time as usual!" Holmes exclaimed and handed the tumbler to the poor sod who took it gratefully.
"Mr. Lorimer, may I introduce my colleague and friend Dr. Watson." Holmes started. "Watson, this is Mr. Frederic Lorimer of Reading who has the very peculiar problem of having lost his bride."
Lorimer, a man in the middle of his twenties with reddish hair and a pleasing face, looked stunned.
"How…?"
My friend smiled.
"Mr. Lorimer, you are sitting here in front of me in your best suit, yet it is not Sunday. Since you wear no black tie I could easily assume it was not a funeral you intended to go to and the flowers on your lapel seem to prove me right. You are either the groom or the best man at a wedding. Again, the little bouquet of flowers is a bit too elaborate for the best man hence you must be the groom. Ceremonies usually take place before midday, but since there is no ring on your finger something must have gone wrong. And last but not least, if it had been a case of your fiancée deciding at the very last moment not to marry you, you presumably would be more likely in a pub drinking than being here in your current state of mind, seeking my help."
With this Holmes lit his pipe and leaned back to listen to our client's story.
"Mr. Holmes it is as you say, indeed I have no idea where I might find my bride. But perhaps I should start at the beginning.
"I met Christine Denton at a ball last November. Her father owns a brewery close to Reading and I, having again taken over business from my late father, am a merchant specialised in grains. I had met Mr. Denton a few times before, selling him rye and hop, but never laid eyes on his daughter till that day. She looked so pretty in her ball gown and with her golden hair and bright blue eyes. I danced a few times with her and at the end of the evening had violently fallen in love with her.
"Shortly after Christmas I asked her father permission for courting her and was granted the honour. Only a week later was I invited to dinner with the family which nowadays only consists of Mr. John Denton his daughter Christine and her brother Jake who is but a child. Mrs. Denton had died giving birth to him."
He took another sip of brandy before he continued.
"Christine and I seemed to be made for one another and we would have married sooner had she not fallen ill and been brought to Brighton to recover her health. Summer now unfortunately is a very busy time for my business and I had not seen her for almost two months, but we had written each other letters on a daily basis and everything was fine, the date for our wedding finally set for today and everything properly arranged.
"Yet I have to admit that she seemed to have changed somehow. She did not smile quite as often as she used to and the bloom of her cheeks had disappeared. She also looked older, yet I loved her even more than before."
He looked at Holmes to see if the story so far had sunken in and as with most clients he was a bit irritated to see my friend sitting there eyes closed, arms in a relaxed position on the armrests of his chair, smoking his pipe in a rather meditative way.
Finally Holmes told him to continue as to what had happened that morning and Mr. Lorimer went on.
"The wedding was supposed to be at eleven o'clock at the Market Church. Obviously I had not seen my bride all morning. So, high spirited I waited at the altar for her father to give her away.
"The time came and went, but neither of them appeared. Finally fifteen minutes later my father in law to be appeared, wide eyed and out of his mind with worry, to inform us that his daughter was nowhere to be found.
"I immediately went to look for myself, but her first floor room had been locked from the inside as I was told and the window was closed, too. But where had she gone. Someone even looked up the chimney, but a ten year old chimney sweep can hardly climb that one. She has just disappeared from the face of the earth!"
Frederic Lorimer finished his tale and his brandy and looked even more at a loss than when I had first seen him.
Holmes smiled as if he had an idea as to what had happened but all he did was to go to his bedroom and moments later to return with his coat and hat.
"Watson, if you have the time I would appreciate it, if you could join me on our trip to Reading. There is a train leaving for Oxford in twenty minutes from Paddington. We should be able to catch it."
Barely an hour later the Berkshire countryside flew past us as we came closer towards our destination. No one had the desire to talk and so the ride passed in silence.
Reading station was busy this time of day as a lot of men headed home from work. Impressive buildings lined the street towards the town centre showing off that Reading even as only being a town was just as en vogue as its big sister London.
Taking a cab we passed Market Church and headed south and out of town. In the darkening light the brewery, set like an ulcer on the banks of the tranquil flowing River Kennet was build in the midst of a pretty meadow just on the margins of Reading. The brick façade had something pompous showing off that drinking paid a lot of money.
In the shadow of the brewery building though stood a pretty white washed house that must have been here from the beginning of time. Overshadowed by huge weeping willows the Denton family house looked humble and cosy. Yet when we entered its size was astonishing and its interior decidedly different from what the outside had suggested. The dark wooden floor and walls, the broad staircase that wound upwards and the cassette ceiling had something very aristocratic rather than cosy, let alone humble.
"Sirs!" a young maid had opened the door for us. It was obvious that she had been crying only recently. She stared at Lorimer as if she had seen a ghost, taking our hats, coats and walking sticks as if in a trance.
"The master is in his library." She announced and storing away our coats she went to announce us.
John Denton was a portly man with thinning grey hair, the red face of a person who drank and ate too much too often and yet he seemed to be unusually energetic. He got up to shake hands with his almost son in law and introduced himself to Holmes and myself.
"This is a most unfortunate business!" he exclaimed. Realising in an instant that his words were perhaps not completely apt to describe what had happened.
He offered us seats and ordered some tea before he sat back down, too.
"I really don't know what to say." The unfortunate father said starting with his version of the events.
"Christine went to bed early last night as she wanted to be rested. As soon as she had seen her brother to bed she retreated as well and the last time I saw her, was this morning at the breakfast table. She did look a bit out of spirits but most girls tend to be nervous on their wedding day. Yet she managed to stomach a slice of buttered toast and a cup of strong tea before she went upstairs again to get changed and ready for her great day.
"We had planned to leave here at about twenty to eleven yet when she still was not back at ten to I went to check on her. Her door was locked and no matter how hard I knocked no one answered. Finally the butler and I broke the lock and found that the room was empty."
The old man looked exhausted and worried and his only comfort seemed to be that he was not alone in this.
"Can I see your daughter's room?" Holmes asked.
"Of course! I will show you personally."
The tea had just arrived but was now left to get cold as all of us made or way upstairs to a pretty and very feminine room.
The wedding gown was still spread out on the bed as well as the matching hat, gloves and the flowers.
"Please Mr. Denton, show me exactly how you have found the room."
"As said, the door was locked, the key is still there showing that it had been locked from the inside. The window was closed. We opened the wardrobe and checked every possible spot she could have hidden in, but to no avail."
Holmes went over to the wardrobe, furrowing his brow then walking over to the window he slid it open and examined it thoroughly.
"Was the latch open?"
"I cannot say, Hanson, the butler might know."
Holmes looked out of the window again, before closing it and returning to the library.
"Did you find out something?" Lorimer asked eagerly.
Holmes did not answer but asked to speak to the butler instead.
Hanson was astonishingly young for his position. Being anything but good looking he still carried himself very well.
"Hanson, I only have one question, was the window at Miss Denton's room latched or not?"
"It was not latched, sir!" the butler answered without hesitation. "But it was closed. Most of the upstairs windows stay unlocked if I may add."
Denton nodded in agreement.
"Well then, thank you very much."
Outside it was getting dark quickly now.
"I think I will take a turn around the house." Holmes announced. And minutes later we could make out his figure in the twilight passing our window outside.
"Do you think he can bring back my daughter?" Denton seemed a bit sceptic. If he had turned his house upside down and his almost son in law as well, how could someone who had never been here before find his beloved child.
When Holmes returned ten minutes later he had a little boy in tow. Jake Denton was no older than five but he had a set of very bright blue eyes that were made to take in everything around him.
"I found this little chap in his tree house."
Jake nodded. "Yeah, he climbed up the ladder to visit me. He is funny!"
That actually pretty much summed up my friend and it was hard to hide a grin considered the seriousness of the situation. Denton indeed did not look too pleased with his offspring, but I was not sure if it was because he had been out after dark, or had been out at all when his sister was missing and everybody worried about her whereabouts.
"Well, gentlemen, the secret of Miss Denton's disappearance lies not within her room but just outside of it" Holmes announced triumphantly.
"You know where she is?" Both Lorimer and Denton asked eagerly.
"I think I have a pretty good idea as to where she might be, but what I definitely know is how she escaped."
Holmes helped himself to some of the fresh tea the maid had thoughtfully supplied after the other one had cooled down too much to be drunk with enjoyment.
"Your daughter has taken the escape route out of the window using the bell cord from her room to get onto the branches of the weeping willow right in front of her window that thoughtful as she is, she had closed after herself. From there she made way towards the tree house and simply climbed down the ladder." He announced. Everyone was stunned.
"Yes, but where is she?"
"There are some clothes missing out of her wardrobe, so the logical conclusion is that she intends to stay away for some time. There are a few possibilities, she went back to Brighton to whoever she met there, or she eloped to Gretna Green or and this is actually the most likely place she might be, which is with her family."
"Excuse me!" Lorimer all but yelled. "Her family?"
Denton looked sheepish.
"Mr. Denton, pray tell me what is the meaning of this?" The desperate groom begged.
John Denton got up, poured all of us a glass of Whisky and began.
"Jake is not my son, nor is he my wife's.
"Christine was only seventeen when she fell in love with one of my foremen at the brewery and got pregnant by him before I could react and do what was sensible. My wife had already been very ill at the time and only two weeks before Jake was born she passed away never to see her grandson. I managed to keep the details a bit blurry and announced shortly after, that she had died of child bed fever. I took on Jake as my own son and heir, as Christine's brother, when in reality she was his mother.
"I had sacked the foreman right after I found out what he had done to my innocent child and we never heard of him again. Until this summer, that is. Christine got ill with some but slight lung problems and we decided that it might be best to sent her to the sea side to recover. She was so happy with you, Frederic, and so looking forward to marry you. Then in early August I joined her for a week and she had changed. I sensed immediately that something was not right. I wish she had confided in me, but daughters rarely confide in their fathers and so I had to figure it out for myself. One evening when she thought I had gone to the theatre I followed her and it was then that I saw him. He had not changed, not from his looks at least, but his situation seemed to have gotten desperate. He morally and violently blackmailed Christine until she believed the only way to avoid a scandal and social ruin as well as any harm to Jake was to marry Frederic and then poison him slowly so no suspicion would arise. She was to take his business and money and some time afterwards marry that bastard of a man."
The old man looked at Lorimer who had buried his face in his hands.
"She did not tell me this, but I found the bottle of poison with her belongings the next day. I swapped it with some salt."
"Looking virtually identical to some kind of arsenic" Holmes added.
Denton nodded.
"You never were in danger, my boy, you have to believe me" he told Lorimer.
"But I did not tell Christine this. I was afraid she could not act well enough to make this beast of a man believe she actually did do what he was asking of her."
"But how could she agree to poison me, when she loved me so much then?"
"She unfortunately is a very feeling person and she is a mother. As long as she knew Jake was safe she was content with being his sister, but I underestimated the fact that she is his mother and that come to this she would act it."
He filled another glass with Whisky and downed it in one.
"Last night I had to promise her to keep close watch over Jake. – And so my boy you better have a good excuse as to what you were doing out at this time of day."
"I waited for Christine to get me" was the answer. Everyone looked at the boy.
"I beg your pardon I let you wait for so long, if you could please ring the bell, Mr. Denton, I think Hanson is only too happy to bring in your one and only child." Holmes announced to our astonishment.
And there she was. Christine Denton was as pretty as Lorimer had described her but she also looked haunted.
"Frederic!"
Lorimer had gotten up and was by her side within seconds, putting his arms around her and holding her tight. That was the moment Holmes got up, said his farewells to Denton and Jake and left. I hurriedly followed.
"Well, Watson, what an easy case this has been" Holmes mused.
"But where was she all day long? When they searched the whole grounds?"
"In the one place no one would look again – in her room. Later she must have been hiding in the tree house till Jake met her there."
"So that is where you found her?"
"No, she was packing Jakes things to leave with him for somewhere she deemed safe. I sent Hanson to bring her down from Jakes room, which by the way is right next to her own room and just as well accessible via this lovely old willow."
With that Holmes pulled his hat over his face and nodded off.
A week after the events Frederic Lorimer married Christine Denton. There was to be no big wedding, but for all that is worth it's the life that comes afterwards that counts.
The former foreman was captured and sentenced to a long time in prison. The Reading police had taken care of that, now that the past lay open.