Author's Note: And here we are, at the last episode. I hope you've liked what I did for the episodes, I've had a blast writing this. I am planning other stories that will pick up after this, think of them as a virtual season 2. Writers love reviews, they feed the muse, so please leave a note for the story if you've enjoyed it.
The Private Journal of Adelaide Stratton
Entry 10
Harry is due back from New York today, which means I need to talk to both Houdini and Doctor Doyle about my plan. I'm sure they are ready to go back to New York and then on to England, but I've decided to stay here. I need to find Benjamin; I need to know what's actually going on. He tells me he stays away to protect me, but something is off. Maybe it's police instinct, maybe I've been around Harry too much. Something isn't right.
Houdini wasn't able to get a train back to Buffalo until the following day, which left him time to work on his other reason for coming to New York. He'd had a few answers to the letters he'd written to various specialists regarding Touie and all of them agreed on the best man for Touie's case. Harry was only glad the doctor agreed to meet him before he had to catch the train.
Doctor Hermann Biggs was easy to spot as Harry waited for him in the smoking room of the hotel. Around fifty years old with thinning blond hair he rushed into the hotel looking harried and constantly looking around. Harry met him in the lobby and directed him to the elevator and his room.
"Doctor Biggs, you got my letter," Harry said as he led the other man into his rooms and offered him a chair.
"I did, Mr. Houdini, though I must say this is a bit unorthodox. I usually deal directly with the patient and family."
Harry sat in the chair opposite the doctor. "The family is understandably distracted. I offered to help," Harry explained. "Do you think you can cure her?"
Doctor Biggs pulled out an envelope that Harry recognized as the letter he'd sent a month ago. "You say here she is unconscious, her case may be rather advanced at this point. There may not be anything I can do."
Harry didn't want to hear that. He wanted someone to tell him there was still hope. He'd just convinced Doyle not to give up, that American doctors could work miracles. "I'll pay to send you to London to see her," Harry offered. "Anything you need, just tell me."
Doctor Biggs sat for a moment and read through Harry's letter again. "As I said Mr. Houdini, with Mrs. Doyle's case so advanced, I'm not sure there is anything I can do for her. However," he held up a hand as Harry was about to interrupt. "However, let me think about your offer and consult with a few colleagues. I will let you know in a few weeks what I decide."
Harry chafed at the delay, but he studied the doctor intently for a moment and realised it was the best offer he was going to get. He nodded and the doctor stood up to leave and Harry hesitated. "I'll be back in the city in a week or two with Doctor Doyle," Harry told Biggs as he walked the man back to the door. "If you prefer to go through the family directly, you can reach Doctor Doyle here, or at his residence in London."
The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at Harry and said, "Doctor Doyle, doesn't know about any of this does he?" The doctor stared at Harry angrily. "This is highly unusual and possibly unethical, Mr. Houdini."
Harry blocked the door essentially trapping the doctor in the room. "He's tried everyone in England and in Europe. I asked about the best and I was told you are the best. You don't have to like me, I just want you to think about helping this woman and helping her family."
Doctor Biggs drew himself up and pointedly looked at Houdini's hand on the door. After a moment, he relaxed and said, "I will contact Doctor Doyle with my answer, sir."
Harry relinquished the door and nodded. "Thank you."
He let the doctor out and watched him as far as the elevator before returning to his room to pack for the train. He'd have to tell Arthur about his campaign to help Touie now.
H&DH&DH&DH&D
As the cab pulled up to the Victorian Arms Hotel, Harry was happily surprised to see Doyle waiting for him. He paid the driver and climbed out as Arthur took his brand new carpet bag from him. Whoever had stolen his leather travel case would be disappointed to only find a rumpled suit and a few toiletries.
"How was New York?" Arthur asked as Harry sank down on the step outside the hotel.
Houdini didn't want to admit it, but he was exhausted; crisscrossing the state of New York twice in as many days was starting to take its toll. He still wasn't sleeping much and when he did he had strange dreams about being followed or running from something, but he never knew what. "Terrific," he finally said and glanced at Doyle. "I slept like a baby," he added with wry humor. "How's the writing?"
"Wonderful," Doyle retorted in kind, "I ran out of paper." They shared a look, and Harry got the message loud and clear.
He looked around the hotel and since Adelaide wasn't there, Houdini told Arthur about meeting with Doctor Biggs, the respiratory specialist. He wasn't surprised Doyle was irritated with him for interfering, and was glad the constable chose that particular moment to join them. He slowly got to his feet as she approached and greeted her with a smile.
He was stunned to hear Adelaide tell them about her solitary meeting with Walbridge and agreed with Doyle that she shouldn't have gone alone, anything could have happened. Has she forgotten about the death threat, Harry thought as he listened to Arthur chastise her for taking such a risk. Then she told them about Benjamin and all of Harry's remaining suspicions were aroused. I knew he was up to something, he has to be. And she knows it too.
Adelaide defended her choice and then dropped the announcement she planned to stay in Niagara-on-the-Lake to find Benjamin. "I'm not going with you. I have to find him," she said.
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing and laughed. "He asked you to trust him; leave him alone."
"I trust him," Adelaide retorted and hesitated for a moment. "Which is why I can't leave him alone, knowing he's in danger."
Doyle quickly change the subject to a new case and Harry was distracted from further thoughts of Benjamin and anarchists when Arthur held up a newspaper detailing the death of everyone in a small town called LaPier. Harry took the paper from Doyle and read the story while the doctor convinced Adelaide they needed to look into what happened.
"I checked with the hotel manager," Doyle said and took the newspaper back from Harry. "LaPier isn't on the train line, we have to go to nearby Cicely and hire a car from there. Cicely is about an hour from here by train and the next one leaves in two hours."
Adelaide looked at Doyle and then at the paper still in his hand; Harry could see she was mentally debating whether to come with them or stay and look for Benjamin. Finally, she nodded once and turned back to the hotel. "In that case, I suppose I should start packing."
Harry sighed and tiredly reached down for his carpet bag, but Doyle got there first. He took Harry's bag and directed him into the hotel. "Come with me, Harry. You can take a nap while I pack."
The train rumbled along the tracks for about fifteen minutes before Adelaide saw Harry's eyes drift closed, his head bent forward, as he leant against the window of the train car. She reached forward intending to make him more comfortable, but Doyle waved a hand at her and shook his head. He mouthed, 'He'll wake up.' to her and she relaxed back into her own seat.
"He's still not sleeping?" Adelaide asked quietly.
Doyle shook his head. "I tried to get him to lie down while we were at the hotel but he wouldn't."
Houdini twitched and mumbled in his sleep, he squirmed a bit until his head rested against Doyle's shoulder. As he quieted down again, Adelaide smiled and Doyle rolled his eyes, but she noticed Arthur also didn't try to shift Harry off his arm.
"Not a word, Constable," Doyle growled and Adelaide grinned wider. "Were you able to reach the police about LaPier?" he asked.
Adelaide went along with the change in topic. "I wired ahead to Cicely and they sent back some basic information." She reached into her satchel and pulled out some notes. "The newspaper was right, there was one survivor, a Reverend named Farley."
"Do they have any theories on what happened?"
"Not really. It seems the officer in charge," Adelaide shuffled through her notes. "A Corporal Bazay, refuses to enter the town until other help arrives."
Doyle shifted on his seat but stopped when Houdini made a noise. "So you're telling me they've just left those people for more than a day? They haven't done anything?"
Adelaide nodded sadly. "They're afraid of something that's for sure."
There was a loud crash outside their car as a porter dropped a tray of dishes and Harry jerked awake. He sat up, bleary-eyed and glanced at Doyle. Arthur looked back at him, but said nothing about being used as a makeshift pillow and Harry looked around the train car. Adelaide figured he'd slept for about twenty minutes.
"We'll be in Cicely soon," she told Houdini.
Harry nodded and sat straighter in his seat while he looked out the window.
The train car fell silent and Adelaide cast around her mind for a safe topic of discussion. "Did you do anything interesting in New York while you were there," she finally asked.
"Yes, Harry, why don't you tell Adelaide what you were up to in New York," Doyle said with some exasperation.
Uh oh, so much for a safe topic, Adelaide thought.
"I'm still not sure why you're so upset," Harry mumbled. "I told you months ago I would help any way I could. I'm helping."
"Harry, what did you do?" There was only one thing she could think of that would make Doyle this irritated and that was Houdini meddling with regard to Mrs. Doyle.
"He decided to -"
"I found a doctor to review Touie's case," Harry interrupted. "He really is the best in the world, Doc. He could cure her."
Doyle shook his head, but said nothing and Houdini turned to Adelaide. "So what do you want to do when we get to LaPier?" he asked.
"Since the local police haven't done much yet," Adelaide answered. "We'll have to start at the beginning."
"Well the crime scene certainly won't be contaminated," Doyle said with a frown.
"They probably think it's some sort of disease or plague," Adelaide said to try and defend the local's actions.
The train slowed for the turn into Cicely and fifteen minutes later, the trio went in search of a ride to take them out to LaPier.
H&DH&DH&DH&D
A barricade blocked the road into LaPier and the cab dropped them off next to a police officer standing guard. Adelaide wasn't too impressed with Corporal Bazay and she could tell neither Doyle nor especially Harry thought much of him either. Before Adelaide could do much beyond confirming the basic information she already had, Harry impatiently crossed the barricade and headed into the town. Adelaide and Doyle followed him with Doyle handing out protective gloves just in case.
They wandered up the main street of the town and Adelaide was horrified to see everyone just lying where they fell. Men, women, children, no one had been spared.
"We should split up," Harry said in a low voice. "See if we can find any other survivors or get an idea what happened."
Doyle nodded. "Be careful what you touch," he warned. "This could still be anything."
Harry drifted down one of the side streets; Adelaide watched him peer through windows.
Doyle knelt beside a woman, her fresh vegetables scattered around her, and looked at her eyes and skin. "No obvious marks or injuries," Doyle muttered as Adelaide walked away. "It doesn't make sense," he said and stood up.
Adelaide went in a nearby house and gasped. A family of four seated at their kitchen table and all of them dead, the little boys still with their spoons in their hand.
She walked back outside and hastily wiped a tear from her eye. Doyle was examining another of the residents as she walked up to him.
"What's just as important as why these people died, is why the reverend survived," Doyle said to her as he glanced at the small church down the road. "Where's Houdini?"
"The last I saw of him he was checking the houses down the road," Adelaide said and pointed behind her.
Arthur stood and called, "Houdini!" just as Adelaide saw the magician walk out of one of the houses.
Harry waved back to them and started up the road at a quick walk. "I haven't found anyone else," he said as he stopped next to Doyle. "What about you two."
"Nothing," Adelaide replied. "And no ideas what could have caused this, either."
"Did you see Reverend Farley?" Doyle asked Houdini.
"No. But if you're looking for a preacher, I'd try the church." Harry headed toward the gate leading into the church yard.
The trio entered the building and found the young reverend seated in a pew. Adelaide could tell he was suffering a kind of shock and didn't question him too much about what happened, though it seemed Farley had slept right through the calamity.
Back out in the afternoon light, Adelaide began to wonder if the town had suffered some sort of smiting from God or even the Devil. Harry stared at her in disbelief. "We all know you're not that gullible," he told her.
Adelaide looked away and she heard a soft hiss of breath from Houdini. "You don't trust your husband. Do you?"
She tried to explain, but it was no use. She wasn't that sure of things herself, there was no way she could convince Harry of her intentions when she didn't know her own mind. She was almost grateful when Doyle found the nest of dead mice and agreed Adelaide wasn't too far off the mark thinking the deaths were supernatural.
"I saw a doctor's office," Harry said impatiently. "Let's see what his records have to say. You know, before we abandon all reason."
Adelaide watched as Harry marched off toward the doctor's office to look for new leads. Doyle stood and glanced at Adelaide. "Is he right?" Doyle asked as they slowly followed behind Houdini. "Have you had a change of heart regarding Benjamin?"
Adelaide stared off into the distance. "I'm not sure what to think, if I'm honest. I know Benjamin is a good man. On the other hand, he's being so secretive about what he's doing."
"He said it was to protect you."
Adelaide sighed in frustration. "I don't need protecting," she said with a frown. "I need to know what my husband is involved with."
Doyle held the door to the doctor's office for her. "What will you do if you find out he isn't so innocent?"
Adelaide looked back at him. "I don't know," she admitted softly and went through the office looking for Houdini.
They didn't find much at the doctor's office to explain what killed the people of LaPier, but they did find another survivor, a young girl who was being treated by the doctor. Adelaide and Doyle stayed to talk to the girl, Libby, while Harry wandered through the rest of the office.
Libby told them about feeling ill and how her parents thought she might have the flu. She talked about her family and Doctor Millet and Adelaide saw the moment Libby realised her parents were gone and hugged the girl close to her.
"She should be in a hospital," Doyle said quietly. "Her Addison's aside, she's been unconscious for three days and needs medical attention."
Adelaide nodded and stood. Libby clung to her and she said, "I'll take her out to Corporal Bazay, he should be able to arrange for an ambulance and I'll also have him start looking for any relatives."
Doyle glanced behind him. "Harry and I will stay here, try to see if we can find anything in the doctor's notes that might explain what could have happened."
Adelaide escorted Libby out to the barricade and to Corporal Bazay. "Corporal, We've found another survivor," Adelaide said as she and Libby walked up to the police line.
Bazay looked the girl over and asked warily, "How do we know she's not contagious? It might be better for her to stay with the Reverend, since he doesn't want to leave, either."
Adelaide pulled the girl closer and glared at the police officer. "A little courtesy, Corporal. The girl has just lost everyone she knows." When Bazay glanced away from her, she continued, "Doctor Doyle believes she has something called Addison's Disease. She needs to be in a hospital and you need to find any relatives she may have living nearby."
Bazay grudgingly acknowledged the orders and Adelaide turned to Libby. "They are going to help you feel better and find your family," she told the girl as Bazay reached out for Libby's hand.
"You'll find out what killed my parents, won't you?" Libby asked in a tiny voice.
Adelaide squeezed her hand and replied, "I will do my very best." She watched Bazay lift the girl into a police wagon and then walked back into LaPier.
Doyle and Harry were still in the doctor's office and she found them in what looked to be the doctor's private living quarters. Harry was seated on a sofa with what appeared to be the doctor's record books scattered around him while Doyle stood in the doorway.
It didn't take them long to narrow the focus of their search to the town's water supply and decided to find the river to test it. As Harry stood to join the others, Adelaide noticed he tucked one of the doctor's books in his pocket. What is it with him and nicking other people's books, Adelaide wondered as they left the office and started down the road and up into the hills behind the town.
H&DH&DH&DH&D
The water running out of the mine and into the river was certainly a possible cause for the deaths Adelaide realised. Even by London standards, the brownish liquid in the vial Doyle held looked bad.
"Don't pack your bags quite yet," Harry said. "What about everyone down river?"
Adelaide glanced downstream.
"I seem to remember there are a few mining camps and an abandoned compound nearby," Doyle said as they started to walk back to the road. "Hopefully those people are still safe."
They met Corporal Bazay at the barricade and Adelaide took the lead. "We think we have cause for what's happened, Corporal," Adelaide said as they stood beside the police officer. "It's possible the river water has been contaminated by the mine."
"What's down river from here?" Harry asked.
Bazay shrugged. "Just a bunch of Indians squatting at the old mining compound."
Adelaide watched Harry's hands clench and rushed on before Houdini did something rash. "We need to warn them," she said decisively and moved to the police wagon and climbed inside. Doyle sat beside her and Harry took the bench opposite them as Bazay and the remaining police officer stared at them for a moment before the Corporal motioned for his fellow to turn the wagon around.
The sun was beginning to set when the wagon pulled into the mining compound and Bazay yelled for someone named Walt.
H&DH&DH&DH&D
Walt turned out to be a gracious host, he didn't believe the warning about the water, but he had no problem with the trio staying the night to be sure everyone was safe.
Adelaide listened as Walt and Doyle talked about Sherlock Holmes and she was a bit surprised Arthur was so forthcoming about why he'd killed off the character. Harry had been pacing the room behind them and as Doyle started to talk about the death of his father and Touie being ill, he stopped behind Arthur and waited, lending the other man silent support. Walt didn't say anything once Doyle was done speaking, he just looked at the doctor and nodded once and let the subject drop.
Arthur gazed into the fire for a few minutes, then put down his cup and got to his feet. "I want to make a check of everyone, make sure no one is ill," he said and reached for his hat.
"I'll come with you," Adelaide offered. "I could use a bit of air before bed."
Doyle held the door for her as she led the way out into the night. They walked along to the first row of cabins and Adelaide asked quietly, "Are you all right?"
Doyle looked over at her with slight surprise. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"
"I was just surprised how much you told Walt?"
Doyle knocked on a cabin door and waited for someone to answer. When an older woman opened the door, Doyle said, "Good evening. My name is Doyle and I'm a doctor." He waited for some sort of reaction from the woman, but she only stared at him impassively. "I wanted to make sure everyone was feeling all right, there is some question about the safety of the water supply."
The woman looked him up and down for a moment, then replied, "We're all good here." And closed the door before Arthur could ask anything else.
As he and Adelaide moved on to the next cabin, Doyle picked up their conversation, "Walt is a very easy man to talk to," he said. "He listens to what you have to say."
Adelaide was silent for a moment then asked, "Do you really miss Sherlock Holmes?"
Doyle knocked on the next cabin and explained why they were there. He received another curt affirmative that everyone was fine and they walked on.
"I'm a bit surprised myself, but yes I do rather miss him," Doyle admitted. "He was fun to write, in the beginning. He certainly fed my family more than once after I returned home and medicine didn't cover the bills. Then I realised he was getting in the way. There were other things I wanted to write about, to talk about, and all anyone else wanted was another Holmes story."
They knocked on the last few cabin doors and collected more replies of everyone feeling all right and started to walk back to the Walt's cabin.
They reported the good news that everyone seemed healthy so far and Harry offered to take the first shift staying awake in case anything went wrong during the night. Doyle gave Houdini a quick look, but said nothing as he went into one of the bedrooms off the main sitting area. Adelaide found another room and paged through Benjamin's copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer. She read the inscription on the inside cover once again and smiled slightly at the memories of Benjamin and their life together, such happier times.
She was dozing in a chair a few hours later when she heard a door close and soft voices coming from the outer room. She recognised Doyle's deeper timber and Harry's lighter tone responding but couldn't make out the words. She assumed Arthur was telling Houdini to get some sleep, and soon she heard the other door open and close again.
She exchanged the hard chair for the soft bed and the next thing she knew, morning light streamed through the window next to her bed.
Doyle walked outside the next morning to find Harry already up and about. So much for hoping he'd sleep in, Doyle thought as he walked over to the other man. It had been a quiet night in the mining compound and Doyle was beginning to think Walt was right, it was something other than the water at fault.
He listened as Harry told him about the book on dreams and read the note Harry had written to himself to prove whether or not he really was awake. Doyle could see Houdini was desperate to prove something about the woman he'd been seeing, and couldn't help teasing his friend just a tiny bit.
"Otherwise it could mean you've been seeing a ghost," Doyle said with a smile.
"Wouldn't you love that," Harry retorted impatiently.
"You'd never tell me anyway," Doyle said but he noticed Harry wasn't in the mood for the game at the moment. He tried a different tactic, "You're telling me, if right now, you were to see … your mother standing before you, a clear, distinct image of her. That you still wouldn't accept it as evidence of the afterlife?" Doyle asked patiently.
"That'll never happen," Harry quickly denied but Doyle noticed he glanced furtively around.
"Hypothetically?" Doyle barely asked before Houdini's adamant "No, I wouldn't accept it." was the reply.
"Then how would you explain it?" Doyle asked and was shocked to see the change come over Harry's face.
"It's simple. It would mean I was going insane," he replied with a look of fear on his face.
This is really scaring him, Doyle realised and could sympathise with the terror of losing one's mind. It wasn't so long ago he'd experienced something similar if only in a hallucination brought on by being poisoned. He glanced back at the note in Harry's hand and saw the test in a new light. It's not a test for a dream, it's a test of his sanity.
Arthur started to say something but was interrupted when Adelaide joined them. She showed them the inscription in the Tom Sawyer book as well as the newspaper advertisement of Walbridge Hardware going out of business, but before they could do much other than decide there might be a code, Corporal Bazay arrived and informed them there had been three more deaths.
Doyle sat beside Adelaide again as Bazay drove them to the small village above LaPier and watched Houdini. Harry stared out the window for a few minutes, then he would close his eyes for a few seconds, and with a slight jerk, he would stare out the window again. A few minutes later, the pattern would repeat. As Doyle watched this, a new theory began to form in his head to explain Houdini's mystery woman. Even if I'm right, he'd never let me do what was necessary to fix it.
Adelaide had watched Harry's odd behaviour as well, but when she started to ask about it, Doyle shook his head.
They arrived at the little village and Bazay directed them to a barn where three bodies were laid out under white sheets, two were adults, one was a child. Doyle removed the sheet over each body and gave it a cursory exam. Just like the victims at LaPier, there were no signs of injury or evidence they had been attacked. The only bit of good news was that in this village most of the residents were still alive, though that begged a whole series of other questions as to why.
"I need the medical records for everyone in this village, Corporal," Doyle ordered and looked up. "Does this village have a doctor?"
"Yes, sir," Bazay stuttered out still a bit shell-shocked from Doyle bellowing at him a few moments before to evacuate the village. "It's this way, sir."
"Just point me in the right direction, I'll find it. Meanwhile start organizing your men to get these people to safety."
"What do you want us to do?" Harry asked.
Doyle turned around. "Go back to Walt's, tell him he was right, it's not the water. Then go to LaPier. I'll meet you at the inn in a few hours."
Harry nodded and started to leave the barn with Adelaide.
"Houdini?" Doyle called and Harry glanced back. "Get all of the medical records from Doctor Millet's office as well. We'll go over them all again and see if we can find anything in common."
"Walt. Records. Inn. Got it. We'll see you in a couple of hours."
Doyle watched them leave in one of the police wagons and headed into the village. He found the doctor's office, a room set aside in the man's home, and knocked.
An elderly gentleman answered the door and introduced himself as Doctor Jonas Young. He invited Doyle inside and directed him to his medical office.
"What can you tell me about the victims, Doctor Young? Did they share any common habits?"
Doctor Young shook his head. "No, no, nothing like that. The boy attended the school down in LaPier, the woman lived alone. I'd just sent young Gregory home. He broke his leg when a horse kicked him."
"Did they live near each other in the village?"
"The boy and the woman did, they lived near the hills. Greg lived behind his smithy over near the river." Doctor Young wagged his head again. "I just don't understand it, sir. Three perfectly healthy people dead. You don't think it's the flu do you?"
Doyle saw the familiar fear in the doctor's eyes and quickly reassured him, "No, this isn't the flu. You heard about what happened at LaPier, I'm sure." When the doctor nodded his head in a quick jerk, Doyle continued, "Whatever this is, it killed dogs, mice, cats, animals as well as people."
"Dear me," Doctor Young said. "I wonder do you think -" he was interrupted by Corporal Bazay.
"I'm sorry Doctor, but the wagon is waiting for you," Bazay said as he stood stiffly in the doorway.
Doctor Young rose to his feet.
"Before you go," Doyle said, "I'd like to take your records with me, see if I can figure out what happened here."
"Oh, I don't think -"
"It could be very important," Doyle pressed. "There are survivors here, if we can figure out why, we may be able to stop this from happening again."
Doctor Young hesitated.
"I'll see to it Corporal Bazay returns the files to you as soon as we are done," Doyle said and clenched his hat a little tighter.
"You are a doctor," Doctor Young said, "I suppose it wouldn't be a breach if I were to let you review the records." He pulled out the bottom drawer of his desk, removed a smallish stack of files and papers and handed them to Doyle. "This is everything I have on the thirty souls who live here," the doctor said then gathered up his hat and top coat and followed Bazay out to the waiting wagon.
Doyle stuffed the files into a satchel hanging behind the office door and went back outside.
H&DH&DH&DH&D
It was early afternoon when Doyle returned to LaPier and met the others at the inn. Doyle spread the files from Doctor Young's office across one table in the dining room while Harry sorted through Doctor Millet's records on the next table. All three of them spent the next several hours pouring over the papers looking for anything that would point to a cause for fifty people to be dead and another twenty-seven survivors.
Eventually, Harry and Adelaide left the research to Doyle; they had culled through most of the reports, and neither Houdini nor the constable really had the background to understand either of the doctor's notes.
Doyle heard one of the bedroom doors upstairs close and a few moments later the front door shut as well. Harry passed the window and waved in at Doyle before walking off down the road toward the river and out of sight.
Arthur had the beginnings of an idea about an hour later when he heard the front door open and Harry walked back into the dining room. Houdini dropped his top coat over one of the chairs then stood over near the fire to warm up. He listened as Doyle told him about the common theme that the three latest victims had all been in bed when they died.
"OK. And?" Harry asked rubbing his hands together.
"And, that's it," Doyle admitted. "I said I had a thought, not a solution."
Harry smiled and started to reply when Adelaide walked into the room and tossed the Tom Sawyer book and the newspaper with the Walbridge advertisement into the midst of Doyle's medical records.
"It is a cypher," she announced and told them how she'd discovered the hidden code and what it said: King Edward Sep 2 01
Doyle looked from the paper with the message back up to Adelaide. "They intend to kill the King," he said, his shocked expression mirrored on Adelaide's face.
Harry, however was interested in something else, he wanted to know why Benjamin had the book. As Houdini pointed out how suspicious it looked for Benjamin to have the code book, and that he had lied to her, Adelaide's face became hard and closed until she finally left the room saying she would contact Chief Merring with their information.
Doyle glanced back at Harry after Adelaide left the room.
"What?" Harry asked defensively. "Don't look at me like that."
"You could have been a little more sympathetic," he chastised.
Harry shrugged and turned back to the fire. "Something is wrong with that guy, I know it. And I'll bet you know it, too."
Doyle looked away.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Harry said and sat at the table next to Arthur.
"He couldn't stop any of those other assassinations, he had the book." Harry looked up as if he could see the bedrooms above them. "What he did to Adelaide was cruel. How is faking your death and putting someone you're supposed to love through all that pain a good thing?"
"He was trying to protect her," Doyle replied.
"Or he was trying to protect himself," Harry scoffed. "I hope I'm wrong, I do. But something about this is just feels off." Harry stood from the table. "I'm going to bed."
Harry walked out of the dining room and soon Arthur heard another of the bedroom doors open and close.
Doyle sat at the table for another couple of hours before throwing his pen down in frustration. "I need a break," he said aloud to the empty room. He gathered up his cup and the teapot and walked back into the kitchen to make a fresh pot of tea. While he waited for the water for boil, he wandered upstairs and checked on Adelaide and Harry. He wanted to make sure the constable was doing all right after the accusations Harry made and he wanted to make sure Houdini was asleep at all.
He knocked softly on Adelaide's door and opened it just enough for the light to fall on the bed. He was glad to see she was sleeping soundly, a small smile on her face. She whimpered softly in her sleep then rolled away from the door. He closed the door again and went down to the next one.
He again knocked but when he opened the door he saw that Houdini, while asleep, was not having a restful night. He laid on top of the bedcovers, still fully dressed and Doyle watched as Harry twitched and groaned in his sleep for someone to leave him alone. Arthur was about to enter the room, when Harry startled and rolled over on his other side. Doyle slowly closed the door and wondered how long the nightmares had been going on. At least since the funeral, Doyle thought with a sigh.
Arthur went back down the stairs and heard the kettle singing in the kitchen. He refilled the pot and settled back at the dining room table to puzzle out the mysterious deaths surrounding them.