The next morning, my landlady's maid came to my room and handed me a
telegram from my husband, written in his usual manner.
IN LONDON ON FORGERY CASE. REACH ME AT
MYCROFT'S IF YOU NEED ME. HOPE YOU ARE
WELL. HOLMES
Well at least he was keeping busy, I thought to myself, and he's in a decent mood. I remembered when I left Sussex four days ago, Holmes had not been in the best of moods. He had not had a new and interesting problem to solve since the one from earlier that year. I for one was happy to see him on a job once more. (Please excuse my American accent, I am half American so sometimes I resort to my father's way of speaking.)
I left the telegram on my desk and left for a meeting I was to have with one of the dons at my women's college. The day had dawned sunny and clear for the first time in many days, so instead of driving to the college, I walked. It was nice to get some sunshine after many days of reading in the libraries and seemingly endless rain.
When I arrived at the college a quarter of an hour later, there was great crowd of people who stood outside the gates which were guarded by two large constables. I went up to them and was about to ask what was going on when a voice called my name and the don whom I had come to meet pushed through the giant constables and pulled me through the gate and into the quad. (A/N: a quad is the four-sided courtyard in front of colleges in England)
"Miss Russell, I'm so glad that you made it. Something horrible has happened!"
I looked at the don, surprised. From what I could remember, she had always been a calm and quiet person. Now she seemed to be extremely excited about something. I quickly asked her what had happened.
"I'm so very sorry, Miss Russell, but Miss Woodhouse was found dead this morning, hanging from the light in her room. It looks as if she -er- killed herself."
I stopped in dead in my tracks and stared at the don, open-mouthed.
"That's impossible. I just spoke to her last night and when she left, she seemed to be fine. Oh God! I don't need a dead student on my hands right now. My article must be done by next week."
The don looked at me curiously. "Miss Russell, why on earth are you thinking about your article at a time like this? The student that you were tutoring is dead."
"What I mean, Miss Small, is that I will have to investigate this matter for I will never believe for a moment that Lily would kill herself. Please show me Lily's room so that I can possibly see what happened," I said stubbornly.
The don, whose name was Phoebe Small, raised an eyebrow.
"I've heard of what you do sometimes, Miss Russell. Mrs. Fitzwarren had a lot to say about you after she visited this summer. I suppose you'll also wish to see the two girls who found her."
"Yes, I would, thank you," I replied and we made our way up to Lily's rooms on the second floor of the left wing. As we walked through the hall, I saw eyes watching us through semi-open doors. Finally, we reached the scene of death and Miss Small opened the door.
I turned my eyes away from the hanging body of my former student and looked instead at the ground. There seemed to be not many footprints, the only ones there had small bits of mud on them.
"Have many people been here since she was discovered?"
"No," Miss Small replied, still standing at the door. "The girls that found her did not enter the room to my knowledge and we are waiting for the coroner before we - er - take her down."
"When they do take the body out of the room, Miss Small, is it possible that you can get newspapers or something on the floor to keep the footprints from being ruined by the police. From my experience they seem to only muddle things up before they investigate them," I said and turned to the dead form of Lily Woodhouse.
She had been hanging there for a number of hours, I could see by the colour of her face, which was a dark purple. I closed my eyes for a moment and thought of what Holmes would do in a case like this. Then I looked past the bloated face to the rope that held her in the air. It was attached to the light in a knot that was not a sailors' knot, but it was one that I did not know of. There were also marks on her hands that either were of rope-burn or a scrape from what could have been a fall. There was a chair lying on the floor not too far from her hanging body. It did look very much like a suicide, but something in my mind told me that it was not. I looked back at Miss Small, who had not moved from her place in the doorway.
"There is not much more that I can do here except look at the floor or the furniture. But it would be easier without the body here," I said quietly and felt myself quaver for a moment. I forced myself to not cry. It would not be good to do such a thing right now, it would have to wait for later.
"We might as well see the witnesses, then," I said dejectedly and I followed Miss Small out of the room, closing the door behind me.
IN LONDON ON FORGERY CASE. REACH ME AT
MYCROFT'S IF YOU NEED ME. HOPE YOU ARE
WELL. HOLMES
Well at least he was keeping busy, I thought to myself, and he's in a decent mood. I remembered when I left Sussex four days ago, Holmes had not been in the best of moods. He had not had a new and interesting problem to solve since the one from earlier that year. I for one was happy to see him on a job once more. (Please excuse my American accent, I am half American so sometimes I resort to my father's way of speaking.)
I left the telegram on my desk and left for a meeting I was to have with one of the dons at my women's college. The day had dawned sunny and clear for the first time in many days, so instead of driving to the college, I walked. It was nice to get some sunshine after many days of reading in the libraries and seemingly endless rain.
When I arrived at the college a quarter of an hour later, there was great crowd of people who stood outside the gates which were guarded by two large constables. I went up to them and was about to ask what was going on when a voice called my name and the don whom I had come to meet pushed through the giant constables and pulled me through the gate and into the quad. (A/N: a quad is the four-sided courtyard in front of colleges in England)
"Miss Russell, I'm so glad that you made it. Something horrible has happened!"
I looked at the don, surprised. From what I could remember, she had always been a calm and quiet person. Now she seemed to be extremely excited about something. I quickly asked her what had happened.
"I'm so very sorry, Miss Russell, but Miss Woodhouse was found dead this morning, hanging from the light in her room. It looks as if she -er- killed herself."
I stopped in dead in my tracks and stared at the don, open-mouthed.
"That's impossible. I just spoke to her last night and when she left, she seemed to be fine. Oh God! I don't need a dead student on my hands right now. My article must be done by next week."
The don looked at me curiously. "Miss Russell, why on earth are you thinking about your article at a time like this? The student that you were tutoring is dead."
"What I mean, Miss Small, is that I will have to investigate this matter for I will never believe for a moment that Lily would kill herself. Please show me Lily's room so that I can possibly see what happened," I said stubbornly.
The don, whose name was Phoebe Small, raised an eyebrow.
"I've heard of what you do sometimes, Miss Russell. Mrs. Fitzwarren had a lot to say about you after she visited this summer. I suppose you'll also wish to see the two girls who found her."
"Yes, I would, thank you," I replied and we made our way up to Lily's rooms on the second floor of the left wing. As we walked through the hall, I saw eyes watching us through semi-open doors. Finally, we reached the scene of death and Miss Small opened the door.
I turned my eyes away from the hanging body of my former student and looked instead at the ground. There seemed to be not many footprints, the only ones there had small bits of mud on them.
"Have many people been here since she was discovered?"
"No," Miss Small replied, still standing at the door. "The girls that found her did not enter the room to my knowledge and we are waiting for the coroner before we - er - take her down."
"When they do take the body out of the room, Miss Small, is it possible that you can get newspapers or something on the floor to keep the footprints from being ruined by the police. From my experience they seem to only muddle things up before they investigate them," I said and turned to the dead form of Lily Woodhouse.
She had been hanging there for a number of hours, I could see by the colour of her face, which was a dark purple. I closed my eyes for a moment and thought of what Holmes would do in a case like this. Then I looked past the bloated face to the rope that held her in the air. It was attached to the light in a knot that was not a sailors' knot, but it was one that I did not know of. There were also marks on her hands that either were of rope-burn or a scrape from what could have been a fall. There was a chair lying on the floor not too far from her hanging body. It did look very much like a suicide, but something in my mind told me that it was not. I looked back at Miss Small, who had not moved from her place in the doorway.
"There is not much more that I can do here except look at the floor or the furniture. But it would be easier without the body here," I said quietly and felt myself quaver for a moment. I forced myself to not cry. It would not be good to do such a thing right now, it would have to wait for later.
"We might as well see the witnesses, then," I said dejectedly and I followed Miss Small out of the room, closing the door behind me.