Here's part 2 of 'The Three Gables' case… Looking at my stories, it comes in the top 10 but missed the top 5 by 1 view. To be honest, I wasn't expecting anything that amazing because I didn't think many people would read it but oh well…. Woo!


I'd also like to dedicate this chapter to Lulu-Fifi, my first reviewer and the first to add this story to their favourites. Thank you honey, it's greatly appreciated.


A short railway journey, and a shorter drive, brought us to the house, a brick and timber villa, standing in its own acre of undeveloped grassland. Three small projections, above the uppers windows, made a feeble attempt to justify the name it was given. Behind was a grove of melancholy, half-grown pines, and the whole aspect of the place was poor and incredibly depressing which both Luna and Sherlock commented on without any signs of hesitation. None the less, we found the house to be well furnished inside, and the lady who received us was a most engaging elderly person, who bore every mark of refinement and culture.

"I remember your husband well madam though it is some years since he used my services." Holmes told her as she led us through the halls of her home until we reached a small dining room of sorts.

"It's been some years since he's been with us, my dear man. Please, you should try some of this. I baked it myself" she said, gesturing a freshly baked Victoria sponge while my friend pulled a chair out for my sister. With a small smile, she took a seat in the wooden kitchen chair before taking a seat beside her.

"My word, that's Douglas Maberley!" I said, briefly pointing to a portrait of a young man I instantly recognised. His short blonde hair and deep brown eyes made him a woman's definition of handsome and truly, he was a handsome and strapping young chap as well as good mannered. "Yes, I knew him slightly. He's a splendid fellow, plays rugby for my old club, black heath."

"Yes, I'm his grandmother." She paused, looking down at the table for a few moments, a great sadness filling her eyes. "I was his grandmother. He died a month ago."

"Died?"

"You hadn't heard?" she asked, seeming surprised until something hit her. "No. No. it was a sad ending."

"I am sorry. One could not connect death with such a man. I have never known anyone so vitally alive. He lived intensely -every fibre of him!" I told her, silently offering my condolences for her loss. That poor young man, probably no older than the thirty-five year old Luna. It was not a good age to go for he had died before he truly had chance to live.

"Too intensely, Dr Watson. That was the ruin of him. You remember him as he was - debonair and splendid. You did not see the moody, morose, brooding creature into which he developed. His heart was broken. In a single month I seemed to see my gallant boy turn into a worn-out cynical man."

"A love affair - a woman?"

"Or a fiend. Well, it was not to talk of my poor lad that I asked you to come, Mr Holmes."

"Dr Watson, Ms Watson and I are at your service."

"There have been some very strange happenings. I have been in this house more than a year now, and as I wished to lead a retired life I have seen little of my neighbours. Three days ago I had a call from a man who said that he was a house agent. He said that this house would exactly suit a client of his, and that if I would part with it money would be no object. It seemed to me very strange as there are several empty houses on the market which appear to be equally eligible, but naturally I was interested in what he said. I therefore named a price which was five hundred pounds more than I gave."

"And did he accept this offer?" Luna questioned, accepting the offered saucer which held a rather large quantity of the delicious smelling baked treat. As though realising my thoughts, she broke it into two and deposited the other piece on another small china plate, offering it to me. Accepting it, I brought her to hand to my mouth so I could plant a kiss on her knuckles, causing her to roll her eyes at me as she usually did when I showed brotherly affection around people. It had taken some weeks to adjust to my behaviour while Holmes was there.

"He at once closed with the offer, but added that his client desired to buy the furniture as well and would I put a price upon it. Some of this furniture is from my old home, and it is, as you see, very good, so that I named a good round sum. To this also he at once agreed. I had always wanted to travel, and the bargain was so good a one that it really seemed that I should be my own mistress for the rest of my life." Mrs Maberley explained. While she did this, my sister's eyes narrowed slightly as she glared at the wooden table in deep concentration, a trait that had only developed in the last couple of months, or so I had noticed. Perhaps it was there all along and it had only captured my attention as of late but I couldn't be sure.

"Yesterday the man arrived with the agreement all drawn out. Luckily I showed it to Mr Sutro, my lawyer, who lives in Harrow. He said to me, 'This is a very strange document. Are you aware that if you sign it you could not legally take anything out of the house - not even your own private possessions?' When the man came again in the evening I pointed this out, and I said that I meant only to sell the furniture."

'No, no, everything,' said he.'

'But my clothes? My jewels?'

"'Well, well, some concession might be made for your personal effects. But nothing shall go out of the house unchecked. My client is a very liberal man, but he has his fads and his own way of doing things. It is everything or nothing with him.'

"'Then it must be nothing,' said I. And there the matter was left, but the whole thing seemed to me to be so unusual that I thought -"

Here, we had a very extraordinary interruption as Holmes raised his hand in a silent request for silence. Then, he strode across the room, flung the door open, and dragged in a great gaunt woman who he had seized by the shoulder. She entered with an ungainly struggle, like some huge awkward chicken who tried to fight their fate, torn, squawking, out of its coop.

"Leave me alone! What are a-doing?" she screeched, attempting to pull away though he wouldn't allow his hold to falter.

"Why, Susan, what is this?"

"Well, ma'am, I was coming to ask if your visitors were staying in for lunch when this man jumped out at me, scaring me half to death."

"I have been listening to her for the last five minutes, but did not wish to interrupt your most interesting narrative. Just a little wheezy, Susan, are you not? You breathe too heavily for that kind of work."

Susan turned a sulky, but amazed face upon her captor. "Who be you, anyhow, and what right have you for pullin' me about like this?"

"It was merely that I wished to ask a question in your presence. Did you, Mrs Maberley, mention to anyone that you were going to write to me and consult me?"

"No, Mr Holmes, I did not."

"Who posted your letter?"

"Susan did."

"Exactly. Now, Susan, to whom was it that you wrote or sent a message to say that your mistress was asking advice from me?"

"It's a lie. I sent no message."

"Now, Susan, wheezy people may not live long, you know. Don't you agree that it's a wicked thing to lie, not knowing when God might choose to strike?" Luna murmured softly though it was loud enough for Holmes, Susan and myself to hear her though I was surprised by her words. Glancing over to her, I watched as she stared at the older woman, placing a piece of soft sponge into her mouth with a small smile which the consultant detective returned, throwing an uncharacteristic wink with it which brought colour to her cheeks.

"I fear I must agree dear. Now, tell me the truth."

"Susan!" cried her mistress, "I believe you are a bad, treacherous woman. I remember now that I saw you speaking to someone over the hedge."

"That was my own business," said the woman sullenly.

"Suppose I tell you that it was Barney Stockdale to whom you spoke?" said Holmes.

"Well, if you know, what do you want to ask for?"

"I was not sure, but I know now. Well now, Susan, it will be worth ten pounds to you if you will tell me who is at the back of Barney."

"Someone that could lay down a thousand pounds for every ten you have in the world."

"So, a rich man? Wait, no, no, no. you smiled so… a rich woman?" Luna inquired innocently, staring up at her.

"Ah, now we got so far, you may as well give the name and earn yourself a tenner." The moment those words left him mouth, my sister's face dropped slightly which caused me to wonder what caused such a reaction but I didn't voice it, choosing to instead wait.

"I'll see you in hell first."

"Oh, Susan! Language!"

"I am clearing out of here. I've had enough of you all. I'll send for my box tomorrow." She flounced for the door.

"Good-bye, Susan. Paregoric is the stuff... Now," he continued, turning suddenly from lively to severe when the door had closed behind the flushed and angry woman, "this gang means business. Look how close they play the game. Your letter to me had the 10 P.M. postmark. And yet Susan passes the word to Barney. Barney has time to go to his employer and get instructions; he or she - I incline to the latter from Susan's grin when she thought my pet had blundered - forms a plan. Black Steve is called in, and I am warned off by eleven o'clock next morning. That's quick work, you know."

"But what do they want?"

"Yes, that's the question. Who had the house before you?"

"A retired sea captain called Ferguson."

"Anything remarkable about him?"

"Not that ever I heard of."

"Mmm, perhaps he buried some treasure in the lovely back garden I can admire through the window though of course, nowadays people bury them in the Post-Office bank but there are always some lunatics around like you, Sherlock." My sister joked, standing up to move around the room, her body swaying from side to side as though she heard a symphony no one else could. Her movements could only be described as playful, glancing over her shoulder to the imposing figure of Holmes cheekily. It was that moment when I realised how she felt towards my friend. That was the second it all clicked into place but I couldn't dwell.

"You wound me darling, wound me to very core!" he claimed, raising a hand to his forehead as though a damsel in distress, causing her to laugh such a delightful giggle. Never before had I heard a sound like that leave her mouth, not since the death of our mother and it was a good thing to hear. With a smile, she moved to his side, her arm hooking through and resting lightly on the crease of his elbow. His other hand, which wasn't holding his walking stick, clasped hers .

"It would be a very dull world without you in it, my dear Sherlock, of that you can be assured."

"At first, I thought it could've been something valuable, hidden. But why, in that case, should they want all of your furniture? You don't happen to have a Raphael or a first folio Shakespeare without knowing about it perhaps?" he asked, obviously choosing to return to the case at hand though I noticed his eyes wondered to my sister every few moments, as though they couldn't stray further than a few feet.

"No, I don't think I have anything rarer than a Crown Derby tea-set."

"That would hardly justify all this mystery. Besides, why should they not openly state what they want? If they covet your tea-set, they can surely offer a price for it without buying you out, lock, stock, and barrel. No, as I read it, there is something which you do not know that you have, and which you would not give up if you did know."

"That is how I read it," said I, speaking for the first time a while. Admittedly, I found it rather amusing to watch their interactions, now that I had my suspicions about the feelings buried beneath their actions.

"Dr Watson agrees, so that settles it."

"Well, don't I feel included? Does my opinion suddenly count for nought?"

"Of course not my dear… your opinion means the world to me but at this moment, I know for a fact that you would agree with me and your favoured brother."

"He's my only brother Sherlock." She told him, an eye roll to accompany her words.

"Which makes him your favoured by default. Please, engage your brain before you engage your mouth, you're much better than such carelessness."

"Well, Mr Holmes, what can it be?" Mrs Maberley asked, seeming to grow tired of watching them banter.

"Let us see whether by this purely mental analysis we can get it to a finer point. You have been in this house a year."

"Nearly two."

"All the better. During this long period no one wants anything from you. Now suddenly within three or four days you have urgent demands. What would you gather from that?"

"It can only mean," said I, "that the object, whatever it may be, has only just come into the house."

"Settled once again," said Holmes. "Now, Mrs Maberley has any object just arrived?"

"No, I have bought nothing new this year."

"Indeed! That is very remarkable. Well, I think we had best let matters develop a little further until we have clearer data. Is that lawyer of yours a capable man?"

"Mr Sutro is most capable."

"Have you another maid, or was the fair Susan, who has just banged your front door alone?"

"I have a young girl."

"Then, my dear Watson, I think it would be in the best interest of our newest client, if you spend a restless night here with your revolver." Holmes told me which I agreed to wholeheartedly. The elderly woman would benefit more with a man in the house who could offer some protection.

"Against whom?"

"Who knows? The matter is certainly obscure. If I can't find what they are after, I must approach the matter from the other end and try to get at the principal. Did this house-agent man give any address?"

"Simply his card and occupation. Haines-Johnson, Auctioneer and Valuer."

"I don't think we shall find him in the directory. Honest business men don't conceal their place of business. Well, you will let me know any fresh development. I have taken up your case, and you may rely upon it that I shall see it through."

As we passed through the hall, Holmes' eyes, which missed no details whatsoever, lighted upon several trunks and cases which were piled up into a corner. The labels shone out upon them, drawing all of our attentions.

"'Milano.' 'Lucerne.' These are from Italy."

"They are poor Douglas's things."

"You have not unpacked them? How long have you had them?"

"They arrived last week."

"But you said - why, surely this might be the missing link. How do we know that there is not something of value there?"

"There could not possibly be, Mr Holmes. Poor Douglas had only his pay and a small annuity. What could he have of value?". That was when Holmes began to get lost in thought, his eyes taking on a dream like quality which, Luna felt, needed to be commented on. As per usual, she was quick to the wicket with a smart reply.

"I fear he may be sometime in that large mind of his madam. Believe me when I tell you that he will drift off in the most awkward situations. Though, as he had appointed an excellent protector to stand guard tonight, my older brother, I feel as though I should warn you of my presence also." She said but before either one of us could tell it wasn't necessary, she raised a hand to silence both mine and Mrs Maberley's responses. "Please. You will not need the extra protection but I don't wish to sit back at home, worrying for my brother's safety when my blade could offer some further use then poking a burning log in the fire. Plus, with this precaution, it doesn't mean that he must be awake all night as I shall be here also." She finished, causing my protests to die in my throat. I couldn't find fault in her logic, despite my efforts to do so. I blame Holmes for teaching her such trickery.

"Delay no longer, Mrs Maberley," the detective said at last, drifting back to us from the deep abyss of his excellent brain. "Have these things taken upstairs to your bedroom. Examine them as soon as you are able and see what they contain. I will come tomorrow to collect Dr Watson and will hear your report then." By what he said, I doubt that he heard what my loving, if not protective, sister had told the elderly woman. Deciding to leave that particular announcement to her, I continued to follow the couple out, their arms interlinked.


It was quite evident that The Three Gables was under very close surveillance, for as we came around the high edge at the end of the lane, there was the black prize-fighter standing in the shadows. We came on him quite suddenly, and a grim and menacing figure he looked in that lonely place. In retaliation, Holmes clapped his hand to his pocket.

"Looking for your gun, Mister Holmes?"

"Why would he need a gun, Steve? I have a cane if needs be and trust me, greater men than you have fallen to their knees at its mercy." Luna boasted subtly, her eyes narrowed but Sherlock carefully guided her to stand behind him, as though protecting her with his body. Agreeing with his idea, I took hold of her arm and placed her behind myself as well. She might have had a weapon but that brute had wondering eyes and his fists. When together, the combination could be most deadly.

"No, for my scent-bottle, Steve."

"You are funny, Mister Holmes, aren't you?"

"It won't be funny for you, Steve, if I get after you. I gave you fair warning this morning."

"Well, Mister Holmes, I done gone think over what you said, and I don't want no more talk about that affair of Mister Perkins. Suppose I can help you, Mister Holmes, I will."

"Well, then, tell me who is behind you on this job."

"So help me the Lord! Mister Holmes, I told you the truth before. I don't know. My boss Barney gives me orders and that's all."

"Well, just bear in mind, Steve, that the lady in that house, and everything under that roof, is under my protection. Don't forget it." My friend reminded him, his eyes flickering to the trembling woman behind me. At first, I though it may have been in fear but the expression on her face chased that though away. It was one of pure loathing.

"All right, Mister Holmes. I'll remember."

"I've got him thoroughly frightened for his own skin, Watson," Holmes remarked as we walked on. "I think he would double-cross his employer if he knew who he was. It was lucky I had some knowledge of the Spencer John crowd, and that Steve was one of them. Now, Watson, this is a case for Langdale Pike, and I am going to see him now. When I get back I may be clearer in the matter."

"Then while you do that, I shall take a nap before me and John find ourselves back here to keep an eye on your newest client." Luna informed casually, moving to the carriage but Holmes stopped her with a hand on her shoulder

"I am certain that I didn't tell you to accompany him tonight."

"No, you didn't but you also didn't tell me that I couldn't accompany him so I decided to make use of myself instead of anxiously waiting for news about either one of you."

"I do not want you anywhere near that house tonight. Am I understood?" For the first time, she seemed to back down with a sigh, allowing him to actually order her around. Usually, she fought against my decisions for her safety every step of the way but she simply surrendered to him.

"John, please inform Mrs Maberley that I will not be there because of our idiotic friend whom believes me incapable of protecting myself for I am but a mere woman. Next, he will be preaching that I belong chained to the kitchen sink with Mrs Hudson and that I should get married off so I can bare children by the dozen." She muttered.

"Oh fine. Go if you must. I wonder why your brother and I try to keep you safe, especially when you have expressed such a disregard in your own safety."

"It is because I know that I am safe with what you have taught me over the months. Also, I have the best person covering my back, in case things do go pear shaped." She told him confidently, turning around and pressing a kiss to Holmes' cheek with a smile.


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