"So," Holmes continued, after a lengthy silence in which the two parties who occupied the room regarded each other steadily. "I suppose I am correct in saying, Miss Lewis, that you have been aware all along that the criminals did in fact not find what it is they were searching for?"

"That is correct Mr Holmes," the young lady replied evenly.

"I see," Holmes slipped easily into a moment of quiet thought. He then began speaking again. "You know what it is they were looking for, you know that they have not obtained it, I might even go so far as to say that you know who 'they' are, my question, however is this; what did you expect of me if you were consciously concealing such knowledge?" He asked, his sharp gaze monitoring her features.

"I would have thought that was fairly obvious Mr Holmes," Miss Lewis stated, primly. "I expected you to catch them."

"Yet you did not care to share their identity?"

"Unlikely as it may seem I do not know their identity Mr Holmes," the woman said. "I know only what my father told me."

"Then perhaps, dear lady," the detective suggested, laying the cane he still held carefully across his lap. "It would be wise for you to inform me of what it is exactly that your father said. I am not wrong in assuming that this incident as more to do with he, than it has to do with you?"

"No you are quite right Mr Holmes," Miss Lewis agreed, a perceptible note of resignation in her voice. "In both respects you are quite right. I should have told you all I knew but the secret was not mine to tell and I only know so much," she signed heavily. "As it is I now fear that I have no choice. I shall tell you all Mr Holmes so that you may decide whether or not you still wish to assist me."

And so the lady began her tale.

"I can tell you little of what my father did in his youth and that is where this story begins. He is an American by birth but came to England after he met and married my mother. She had grown up in Kent, had spent all her life there and could not bear the thought of leaving. Those were her conditions of marriage and I am told that my father agreed to them quite readily. Money was not a problem and my father purchased the Fox Groves shortly after they arrived. They lived happily together, so far as I understand, for a little over two years before I was born. As I believe I have already told you Mr Holmes I have very few memories of my mother but those I do have I treasure. From what I recall she was a very kind woman and very beautiful. My father has often told how beautiful he thought she was and how he misses her."

There was a slight lull in the lady's narrative as her memories overcame her. Holmes made no comment but sat in silence, his eyes keenly watchful. Miss Lewis roused herself.

"Forgive me, most of this is of little significance Mr Holmes and I am afraid I might try your patience. My father and I lived alone after that, barring the servants, and we grew very close, that is why I noticed a few years ago when something seemed to be troubling him. He would not tell me what it was even though I asked him repeatedly and it is only more recently that I have learned the truth. My father is dying Mr Holmes, I am well aware of that, as is he. No matter how hopeful the physicians say they are for his recovery we both know. So it was that he had no choice but to tell me for fear I might be in danger."

Again a pause, before she continued.

"When my father was young he committed a crime Mr Holmes. Do not ask me as to the nature of this crime for I do not know, he would not tell me. All I know is that from that day to this he has regretted his action and tried to make amends by being a good an honest man. However, as I am sure you are well aware Mr Holmes, no matter how hard you try to run it is not always possible to escape your past." Miss Lewis dropped her head, looking terribly saddened. "They found him. As I have already told you I do know specifically who 'they' are, only that they were part of this crime too and were angry at my father for deserting them. You see they feared that he might go to the police and so they searched for him endlessly, determined to make sure certain that he would forever hold his silence. When they found him they planned on killing him but my father was ready for them. He told them that he had devised a scheme. If he died the police would immediately be informed of who they were and what they had done, since he would already be dead it would make little difference to him, yet while he still lived he was not going to confess because of how he had been involved. So they reached a standstill. They could not kill my father in case what he claimed was true and my father could not get rid of them by informing authorities because that was the only way he had of protecting both himself and his daughter. What you have there Mr Holmes," Rebecca said, indicating the cane. "Is my father's way of preserving our safety."

"A written confession," the detective murmured, fingering the grain of the wooden staff reverently. It was not a question.

"Exactly. My father found a way to make sure that it stayed with him wherever he went, rightfully not trusting the good intentions of his former colleagues. This is by no means the first time they have tried to acquire it. They however, do not know where to look and my father has always ignored their attempts, confident it would never be found and desperately trying to maintain the balance of power. Yet now he is on his death dead and has been ailing for quite some time. He no longer fears for his own safety but he fears for mine. He told me his secret and gave me the document with instructions to keep it safe and hand it over to the police the moment I hear word of his death. He left to try and draw their attention away from me, worried what they might do to get revenge. It appears that his efforts were in vain. They are still here and are trying to obtain the document more boldly now that he is out of the way. I did not know what to do Mr Holmes, he made me swear not to go to the police before he died or before I was certain I could get myself to safety, you were my last hope. I will have no remaining protection once my father passes away. The only reason they have not tried to kill my yet is because they are unsure as to who has the document, myself or my father. If they kill one then there is the possibility that the other will hand it over, but when my father dies..." she trailed off.

"Then there will be no need for further caution. They will lash out at you, whether you have the document or not." Holmes finished. Miss Lewis nodded. "I understand," he said.

There was a grave silence in which both the lady and the gentleman were totally still, both consumed by similar yet different thoughts. Holmes bent to examine the cane once again and then placed one hand on the round silver handle. He glanced towards Miss Lewis.

"May I?" he questioned.

The lady shook her head. "No Mr Holmes, I am afraid that I cannot allow that. The document is to be seen only by the authorities after I turn it in. Even I have not seen it, nor do I wish to."

"Very well," the detective conceded, releasing his hold. He then seemed to consider the young woman before him, weighing various thoughts in his mind. Finally he made an apparent decision. Grasping the bottom end of the cane he held out the handle to its owner. Rebecca Lewis seemed slightly taken aback and raised a questioning brow.

"You said before Miss Lewis that after you had relayed your tale to me it would be for me to decide whether or not I should continue to help you. Here you have my answer." He offered her the cane once more.

Miss Lewis's face was awash with relief and gratitude as she smiled and took the cane once again into her own hands. "Thank you Mr Holmes, I am forever in your debt."

Oh dear, it's been awhile hasn't it. My bad. Anyway here's the next chapter as you might have guessed. I need serious feedback on this one though because I'm not sure if it makes any sense and there is no point me continuing if not so please help me out here people. TY x