When Holmes re-entered the room, I glared at him in the mirror as I did my
hair for the day. I was not in the best of moods that morning and Holmes'
obvious cheerfulness annoyed me greatly.
"Holmes, how can you be so cursed happy? Someone is dead and furthermore, it's someone who I knew quite well, and all you can do is act cheerful. I'd take any one of your grouchy days compared to this!"
"Russell, I do not get grouchy," he replied calmly, "And please, do not snort. It is a most unbecoming sound for me to hear from you. I suppose you picked up that habit in America."
I ignored this statement. "Holmes, what do you plan on doing today?"
"I was thinking of seeing the body, interrogating the police, and looking at the scene of the crime," he said, "As well as enjoying a beautiful autumn day in Oxford with my dear wife."
Turning abruptly, I stared at him, very curious at the origin of his words.
"Alright, Holmes, what is it?"
"What is what, Russell? I hope that you do not plan on asking me questions that make no sense during this case. If I remember correctly, the last case began with you asking me a very similar question."
"I meant to ask what is it that has put you in such a good mood because the only reason that you usually get into a good mood is when you know something that I do not," I growled.
"When I was in London working on my forgery case. I noticed that the suspected art forger had a letter from a certain Lily Woodhouse of Oxford. I am intrigued by the connection between the two," he said, looking out the window to the street beyond. "Today, Russell, while I am looking over the particulars of the girl's death, I would very much like you to look into the girl's background and see how she is related to this forger and about how rich she was."
I stood there, surprised. "You mean that Lily's death and the forgery problem are related? And what about her being rich?" I could see no connection between the two cases and thought furiously to think of one.
Holmes came over to me and took my hand. "Trust me on this, Russell. Something is definitely wrong with this death and I am grasping at straws simply to get some much-needed data."
"But why, Holmes? You never guess or assume anything," I protested.
"Until I can get sufficient amounts of information, I must assume things to get a moderately clear picture in my mind. Good luck, Russell," he said, bringing my hand to his lips for a moment, then he left the room.
I stood there once more, surprised. Will I ever understand that man? With a shrug, I put on a comfortable pair of shoes and left to find out about the heavily shadowed life of my student.
~ * * * ~
The first place that I went was Lily's college, where I found Miss Small and asked her whereabouts I could find Lily's records. She seemed to be rather unhappy to see me again, but she reluctantly told me that I should ask the Warden. So I gladly left Miss Small and sought out the Warden.
"You're looking into Miss Woodhouse's death, I believe?" She asked when I found her in her office. "It is a sad event. She was a very nice and quiet girl, much unlike some of the one's who come in here looking for a good time away from home."
"Yes, Dr. Bell, I want to know a little bit more about Lily so that maybe I can find some clues to why she would die," I said respectfully.
"Very good of you to do so, Miss Russell," Dr. Bell said as she stood up and opened a chest of drawers. "You are not the first person to ask me for these, you know. Two weeks ago, Miss Small came and asked for it, but I cannot remember what her reason was." She took out a folder and handed it to me. "You cannot take this away from this room, Miss Russell. Now I'll leave you to your detecting."
I watched her leave and thought, news travels very fast in a place like this. Other wise, how else did she know of my hobby which seemed to take up more time than I liked it to? I left the question and pursued the folder, which presented me with the most interesting information.
Apparently, Lily was a very wealthy young woman with a total of half a million pounds sterling to her name. It had been left to her by her father, who died just after the war of pneumonia. Originally, most of it would have gone to her older brother, but since he had been killed in the war, everything went to her. Other than that, I found nothing of interest.
I put the file on the warden's desk and left the room, wondering where I could go next. Strolling through the college's quad, I thought for a moment about how I could find out how Lily was connected with this supposed art forger. Only one name came to my mind, that was the one of my powerful brother-in-law, Mycroft Holmes.
Hurrying back to my loggings, I put through a call to Mycroft's office in Whitehall.
"Hello," he said after the connection went through.
"Hello, Mycroft," I said, "It's Mary again."
"Has my younger brother gone astray? He tends to do that rather often."
"No, Holmes is like a hound on the hunt. I wanted to ask if you can find some information for me about a certain Lily Woodhouse and any connection she might have with the suspected art forger whom Holmes was investigating in London."
"Yes, I believe that I can find something of interest for you."
"Thank you very much, Mycroft."
"Your welcome, Mary, and please excuse me for the Prime Minister is waiting to see me. Good luck, Mary," he said, then hung up the telephone.
With that out of the way, I left to go see what my husband was up to and to see if he had found some of his precious 'data'. If he had, then maybe we could get somewhere with this perplexing case.
~ * ~ Help! If you have any ideas for what can happen next, please tell me! ~ * ~
Thank you to all of you who reviewed this story and a big thank you to Rachel for the great idea that she gave me.
"Holmes, how can you be so cursed happy? Someone is dead and furthermore, it's someone who I knew quite well, and all you can do is act cheerful. I'd take any one of your grouchy days compared to this!"
"Russell, I do not get grouchy," he replied calmly, "And please, do not snort. It is a most unbecoming sound for me to hear from you. I suppose you picked up that habit in America."
I ignored this statement. "Holmes, what do you plan on doing today?"
"I was thinking of seeing the body, interrogating the police, and looking at the scene of the crime," he said, "As well as enjoying a beautiful autumn day in Oxford with my dear wife."
Turning abruptly, I stared at him, very curious at the origin of his words.
"Alright, Holmes, what is it?"
"What is what, Russell? I hope that you do not plan on asking me questions that make no sense during this case. If I remember correctly, the last case began with you asking me a very similar question."
"I meant to ask what is it that has put you in such a good mood because the only reason that you usually get into a good mood is when you know something that I do not," I growled.
"When I was in London working on my forgery case. I noticed that the suspected art forger had a letter from a certain Lily Woodhouse of Oxford. I am intrigued by the connection between the two," he said, looking out the window to the street beyond. "Today, Russell, while I am looking over the particulars of the girl's death, I would very much like you to look into the girl's background and see how she is related to this forger and about how rich she was."
I stood there, surprised. "You mean that Lily's death and the forgery problem are related? And what about her being rich?" I could see no connection between the two cases and thought furiously to think of one.
Holmes came over to me and took my hand. "Trust me on this, Russell. Something is definitely wrong with this death and I am grasping at straws simply to get some much-needed data."
"But why, Holmes? You never guess or assume anything," I protested.
"Until I can get sufficient amounts of information, I must assume things to get a moderately clear picture in my mind. Good luck, Russell," he said, bringing my hand to his lips for a moment, then he left the room.
I stood there once more, surprised. Will I ever understand that man? With a shrug, I put on a comfortable pair of shoes and left to find out about the heavily shadowed life of my student.
~ * * * ~
The first place that I went was Lily's college, where I found Miss Small and asked her whereabouts I could find Lily's records. She seemed to be rather unhappy to see me again, but she reluctantly told me that I should ask the Warden. So I gladly left Miss Small and sought out the Warden.
"You're looking into Miss Woodhouse's death, I believe?" She asked when I found her in her office. "It is a sad event. She was a very nice and quiet girl, much unlike some of the one's who come in here looking for a good time away from home."
"Yes, Dr. Bell, I want to know a little bit more about Lily so that maybe I can find some clues to why she would die," I said respectfully.
"Very good of you to do so, Miss Russell," Dr. Bell said as she stood up and opened a chest of drawers. "You are not the first person to ask me for these, you know. Two weeks ago, Miss Small came and asked for it, but I cannot remember what her reason was." She took out a folder and handed it to me. "You cannot take this away from this room, Miss Russell. Now I'll leave you to your detecting."
I watched her leave and thought, news travels very fast in a place like this. Other wise, how else did she know of my hobby which seemed to take up more time than I liked it to? I left the question and pursued the folder, which presented me with the most interesting information.
Apparently, Lily was a very wealthy young woman with a total of half a million pounds sterling to her name. It had been left to her by her father, who died just after the war of pneumonia. Originally, most of it would have gone to her older brother, but since he had been killed in the war, everything went to her. Other than that, I found nothing of interest.
I put the file on the warden's desk and left the room, wondering where I could go next. Strolling through the college's quad, I thought for a moment about how I could find out how Lily was connected with this supposed art forger. Only one name came to my mind, that was the one of my powerful brother-in-law, Mycroft Holmes.
Hurrying back to my loggings, I put through a call to Mycroft's office in Whitehall.
"Hello," he said after the connection went through.
"Hello, Mycroft," I said, "It's Mary again."
"Has my younger brother gone astray? He tends to do that rather often."
"No, Holmes is like a hound on the hunt. I wanted to ask if you can find some information for me about a certain Lily Woodhouse and any connection she might have with the suspected art forger whom Holmes was investigating in London."
"Yes, I believe that I can find something of interest for you."
"Thank you very much, Mycroft."
"Your welcome, Mary, and please excuse me for the Prime Minister is waiting to see me. Good luck, Mary," he said, then hung up the telephone.
With that out of the way, I left to go see what my husband was up to and to see if he had found some of his precious 'data'. If he had, then maybe we could get somewhere with this perplexing case.
~ * ~ Help! If you have any ideas for what can happen next, please tell me! ~ * ~
Thank you to all of you who reviewed this story and a big thank you to Rachel for the great idea that she gave me.