Chapter 11
"They could have killed Jonathan!" Lestrade growled storming into the room, holding what looked like a wire out in front of her as though it were a poisonous snake.
Holmes looked up at her from where he stood at the crib. He had just put the baby back in and hadn't expected her back so soon. With a frown he took the wire from her hands and studied it. It was just a simple plastic cord, like the ones used for hobbies like the basket weaving contest he had noticed when they had first entered the lodge. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her still angry face, waiting for her to explain her remark, though he had an idea.
"It was tied across the top of the stairs...I tripped over it...Holmes what if I had been carring Jonathan?" She shook her head in agitation, "They must be on to us...they..."
"I rather doubt that Lestrade," he quickly interjected, "When there are much safer and less noticeable methods. That's not to say someone wasn't hoping to kill one or the both of us. However they are obviously not professionals. One, the cord used is highly visible if you're paying attention. Two, they did not stop to think that someone else might be hurt by this. Now, calm down. You'll wake the baby."
Lestrade instantly relaxed, at least as much as she was able to. Her eyes still showed her agitation though, and her inner turmoil. Then they grew distant in the way he had become familiar with. "At least I didn't break my ankle. Edith won't be able to come this time..."
"This time?" he questioned. "Lestrade, this has happened before?"
She nodded, then began to speak in a monotone voice that sounded far away. "Yes, he threw me down after he hit me. It broke my ankle, and I cut my side somehow. I think because I fell against one of the chairs. Then he threw me into the pool. I couldn't breath....he...he wouldn't...he wouldn't let me...." She stopped and stared at Holmes.
"You're father," he stated, already knowing the answer. To his surprise she shook her head in denial.
"That's just it. He isn't my father...That was the whole problem. I was somebody else's child, somebody who was...bad...and I was just like her....at least according to him....they adopted me....he and my mom did. We were happy. I remember he used to sing to me, like my mom....then...Elaine was born. I was ecstatic. I had always wanted a baby sister. But they said that was impossible. I thought we would all be even more happy. I thought...but he said I was bad, that I would be just like her. He said he had to keep me away from Elaine, because I would turn her bad too. He said...he said I had to be made good....and to do that....I had to be taught. He hit me...all the time...." She stopped and looked up at Holmes with wide eyes. "I couldn't tell anybody. If I did then Elaine and my mom would be unhappy. Don't you see?"
Holmes nodded. He could see only too well, and it made his blood boil. How had she been able to hide something like this? How had she been able to cope with the trauma that had undoubtably been caused? The answer was she hadn't. Which was why it was causing so much trouble now, when everything they did reminded her of it. He placed one hand on her shoulder. The touch seemed to bring her back to the present.
She began to pace the room, and to his surprise continued to talk. It was as though once she had started, she was unable to stop. Like a boulder rolling down a mountainside. "Professor Presbury found out about me. He said he was a friend of my mother's....but the truth was...he hardly knew her except as a passing acquaintance. They both taught at the same university you see. He tried to get me to press charges but...I knew I couldn't. Elaine thought the world of her father, and there really was no reason for her not to. He was very good to her.
"I spent a lot of time with the Presburys and Edith and I became best friends. I still visited my mom and my sister though. Professor Presbury did know my grandfather, my mother's father, as I came to find out. He had given him some journals." Here Lestrade smiled. "They were Dr. Watson's. The Professor gave them to me to read, along with a key code to some New Scotland Yard warehouse. They...kept me sane those journals. You and Watson did. Then I found out what was at the warehouse. It was an even greater treasure.
"When I was fifteen, that was when my father tried to drown me. I decided then that I needed to take control of my life. I stayed with Edith and her father until I went to college." She stopped pacing and looked away from him. Her shoulders started shaking. "I...tried to forget...I...th..thought I had...but..."
With a start, Holmes realized she was crying. He walked over to her and gently placed his arms around her. She turned to him and buried her head into his chest, clutching at his shirt. He tightened his hold as years of hidden pain and anguish poured out in the form of salt water. He had never been comfortable around crying women, but now he seemed to know exactly what to do as he patted her back and whispered soft encouragements.
How long they stood that way, he had know way of knowing, but soon the racking sobs settled into hiccoughing whimpers, then into silence. She looked up at him with red rimmed eyes and smiled. "Thank you. I guess I didn't know how much I needed to get that off my chest."
He smiled back, glad to see that she was okay now. He realized he was still holding her, but made no move to pull back seeing as she was in no hurry to end the embrace either. Time seemed to stand still as he gazed into her blue-grey eyes. A charge passed between them, bonding them, and their smiles faded. He slowly lowered his head until their lips touched.
Watson sighed as Wiggins finished his explanation. Why couldn't Holmes have trusted him? Oh well, what was done was done. No use dwelling on the past after all. Still, it did hurt. He had thought Holmes was his friend. However, now was not the time to think about things like that. Especially as Mrs. Stanhope looked as if she were about to explode.
"How dare he! She did not get kicked out. She left. She had to. He nearly killed her!"
Everyone stared at the normally quiet woman. She had the grace to blush, but didn't stop her tirade. "I saw him. They didn't know I was there, but I was. He held her under the water, and if she hadn't thought to pull him in with her, my father would have murdered her!"
"Easy love," Stanhope said, "It happened a long time ago. Now, we need to find out what Gregson has to do with your family, or at least why he's so interested in Beth."
Edith Presbury nodded. "Yes, and we need to get word to Mr. Holmes somehow. I'm afraid to do so through Marcus, though I've warned him not to harm the 'Americans' as he's taken to calling them."
"Hmm. Well, I suppose one or two of us must go to Sussex, while the rest of us stay here and find out about that strange lady Wiggins saw, and to follow Gregson about. Any volunteers?"
"I'll go with whoever gets Sussex," Wiggins said, "Since it was my decision to tell you guys."
"Right then," Stanhope said, "Elaine, myself and Wiggins will go to the lodge. I think actually seeing her might be more believable if you know what I mean."
Watson sighed again. "I suppose Tennyson and I will muck about trying to find more about that lady while Miss Presbury and Deidre continue to follow Gregson. Is that all right with you two?"
They both nodded. "All right, then, lets be on our way."
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"They could have killed Jonathan!" Lestrade growled storming into the room, holding what looked like a wire out in front of her as though it were a poisonous snake.
Holmes looked up at her from where he stood at the crib. He had just put the baby back in and hadn't expected her back so soon. With a frown he took the wire from her hands and studied it. It was just a simple plastic cord, like the ones used for hobbies like the basket weaving contest he had noticed when they had first entered the lodge. He raised an eyebrow and looked at her still angry face, waiting for her to explain her remark, though he had an idea.
"It was tied across the top of the stairs...I tripped over it...Holmes what if I had been carring Jonathan?" She shook her head in agitation, "They must be on to us...they..."
"I rather doubt that Lestrade," he quickly interjected, "When there are much safer and less noticeable methods. That's not to say someone wasn't hoping to kill one or the both of us. However they are obviously not professionals. One, the cord used is highly visible if you're paying attention. Two, they did not stop to think that someone else might be hurt by this. Now, calm down. You'll wake the baby."
Lestrade instantly relaxed, at least as much as she was able to. Her eyes still showed her agitation though, and her inner turmoil. Then they grew distant in the way he had become familiar with. "At least I didn't break my ankle. Edith won't be able to come this time..."
"This time?" he questioned. "Lestrade, this has happened before?"
She nodded, then began to speak in a monotone voice that sounded far away. "Yes, he threw me down after he hit me. It broke my ankle, and I cut my side somehow. I think because I fell against one of the chairs. Then he threw me into the pool. I couldn't breath....he...he wouldn't...he wouldn't let me...." She stopped and stared at Holmes.
"You're father," he stated, already knowing the answer. To his surprise she shook her head in denial.
"That's just it. He isn't my father...That was the whole problem. I was somebody else's child, somebody who was...bad...and I was just like her....at least according to him....they adopted me....he and my mom did. We were happy. I remember he used to sing to me, like my mom....then...Elaine was born. I was ecstatic. I had always wanted a baby sister. But they said that was impossible. I thought we would all be even more happy. I thought...but he said I was bad, that I would be just like her. He said he had to keep me away from Elaine, because I would turn her bad too. He said...he said I had to be made good....and to do that....I had to be taught. He hit me...all the time...." She stopped and looked up at Holmes with wide eyes. "I couldn't tell anybody. If I did then Elaine and my mom would be unhappy. Don't you see?"
Holmes nodded. He could see only too well, and it made his blood boil. How had she been able to hide something like this? How had she been able to cope with the trauma that had undoubtably been caused? The answer was she hadn't. Which was why it was causing so much trouble now, when everything they did reminded her of it. He placed one hand on her shoulder. The touch seemed to bring her back to the present.
She began to pace the room, and to his surprise continued to talk. It was as though once she had started, she was unable to stop. Like a boulder rolling down a mountainside. "Professor Presbury found out about me. He said he was a friend of my mother's....but the truth was...he hardly knew her except as a passing acquaintance. They both taught at the same university you see. He tried to get me to press charges but...I knew I couldn't. Elaine thought the world of her father, and there really was no reason for her not to. He was very good to her.
"I spent a lot of time with the Presburys and Edith and I became best friends. I still visited my mom and my sister though. Professor Presbury did know my grandfather, my mother's father, as I came to find out. He had given him some journals." Here Lestrade smiled. "They were Dr. Watson's. The Professor gave them to me to read, along with a key code to some New Scotland Yard warehouse. They...kept me sane those journals. You and Watson did. Then I found out what was at the warehouse. It was an even greater treasure.
"When I was fifteen, that was when my father tried to drown me. I decided then that I needed to take control of my life. I stayed with Edith and her father until I went to college." She stopped pacing and looked away from him. Her shoulders started shaking. "I...tried to forget...I...th..thought I had...but..."
With a start, Holmes realized she was crying. He walked over to her and gently placed his arms around her. She turned to him and buried her head into his chest, clutching at his shirt. He tightened his hold as years of hidden pain and anguish poured out in the form of salt water. He had never been comfortable around crying women, but now he seemed to know exactly what to do as he patted her back and whispered soft encouragements.
How long they stood that way, he had know way of knowing, but soon the racking sobs settled into hiccoughing whimpers, then into silence. She looked up at him with red rimmed eyes and smiled. "Thank you. I guess I didn't know how much I needed to get that off my chest."
He smiled back, glad to see that she was okay now. He realized he was still holding her, but made no move to pull back seeing as she was in no hurry to end the embrace either. Time seemed to stand still as he gazed into her blue-grey eyes. A charge passed between them, bonding them, and their smiles faded. He slowly lowered his head until their lips touched.
Watson sighed as Wiggins finished his explanation. Why couldn't Holmes have trusted him? Oh well, what was done was done. No use dwelling on the past after all. Still, it did hurt. He had thought Holmes was his friend. However, now was not the time to think about things like that. Especially as Mrs. Stanhope looked as if she were about to explode.
"How dare he! She did not get kicked out. She left. She had to. He nearly killed her!"
Everyone stared at the normally quiet woman. She had the grace to blush, but didn't stop her tirade. "I saw him. They didn't know I was there, but I was. He held her under the water, and if she hadn't thought to pull him in with her, my father would have murdered her!"
"Easy love," Stanhope said, "It happened a long time ago. Now, we need to find out what Gregson has to do with your family, or at least why he's so interested in Beth."
Edith Presbury nodded. "Yes, and we need to get word to Mr. Holmes somehow. I'm afraid to do so through Marcus, though I've warned him not to harm the 'Americans' as he's taken to calling them."
"Hmm. Well, I suppose one or two of us must go to Sussex, while the rest of us stay here and find out about that strange lady Wiggins saw, and to follow Gregson about. Any volunteers?"
"I'll go with whoever gets Sussex," Wiggins said, "Since it was my decision to tell you guys."
"Right then," Stanhope said, "Elaine, myself and Wiggins will go to the lodge. I think actually seeing her might be more believable if you know what I mean."
Watson sighed again. "I suppose Tennyson and I will muck about trying to find more about that lady while Miss Presbury and Deidre continue to follow Gregson. Is that all right with you two?"
They both nodded. "All right, then, lets be on our way."
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