Disclaimer: See Part One.
Author's note: I know you're all itching to hear Holmes' conclusions on this case and to see justice served - so here it is!
*****
There was already another cab waiting at the front of the estate by the time we pulled up. I had given Leopold explicit instructions before we'd left to detain anyone who came to the estate and tried to take away any of the decorations, particularly the flower arrangements, until we'd returned. When the butler greeted us at the door, the look of immense relief was evident on his face.
"Mr Holmes... Miss Emily," he said stoically, "You will find in the sitting room two people with whom I expect you will wish to speak. To be honest, sir, I was starting to wonder how much longer you'd be." He stopped suddenly, and glanced at Emily "Miss Emily, what has happened to you?"
"Nothing to worry about, Leopold," she replied with as much of a smile as her swollen lip would allow, "Mr Holmes and I ran into a few difficulties during out investigation."
"It looks as though you were in a fight!"
"We were," she summarised, "Now, I'm sure we don't want to keep our guests waiting, do we, Leopold?"
"Er. No, Miss Emily," said Leopold, caught slightly off-balance by Emily's matter-of-fact response, "Follow me, please."
"And where is Mr Cartwright?" I asked, "I noticed that the family sedan was not in its accustomed position."
Leopold glanced at me mildly; countless years of training allowed the butler to not even betray his exasperation. "The master is away on an errand - and a good thing, too, if I may be so bold - but I expect him to return at any minute."
I sighed. "I would have preferred that he be there for the confrontation - after all, it is his daughter's jewelry that is at stake - but I suppose it cannot be helped. Lead on."
In the sitting room we found the large deliveryman, and a slender six-year old child with overgrown blonde hair, a shirt two sizes too large for him, and an expression of naive innocence upon his face. They both looked up as we entered, and immediately the man's face drew into a frown as he recognised us. It appeared that my last vision of Emily clawing at his face from behind was genuine, as on his left cheek were three parallel scratches, which would have appeared to be nail gouges even had the marks made by the broken nails not been in evidence. "Good afternoon," I said to them in my usual tone, which I expect sounded completely at odds with my costume, "My name is Sherlock Holmes, and this young lady is Miss Emily Cartwright - the woman whose jewelry you took."
The man flinched violently at my accusation, and the boy cowered close to him.
"Now," I continued, "Would you like to explain how it was done, or shall I? One way or another, it makes no difference to me. But to start, I would like to know your names. It makes things so much easier during conversation."
"My name is Arthur McKinley," the man said in a resigned tone, "and this is my son Adam - but I swear to you, we don't know anything about any burglary!"
I saw Emily's eyes flashing with something dangerous during this denial, and I placed a warning hand on her shoulder.
"Shall I refresh your memory then?" I asked in placid rhetoric, "Of course, you may feel free to correct me if I misstep. You may recall, four days ago, acquiring a gold pocket-watch from a stout man with a moustache. In the process of picking his pocket you left behind a diamond bracelet, for reasons which I'm certain you will supply. The following evening, Miss Cartwright here was having her debutante ball, for which her father had hired four service companies - a florist, a caterer, a decorator, and a delivery service to bring it all in. You work for the delivery service, and your son is the apprentice to one of the decorators.
"Whether by coincidence or design, those specific companies - yours and his - were hired. I expect this same combination may be found at the sites of the other burglaries - but I digress. During some preliminary designing of the ball, you were both given ample opportunity to scout out the estate, during which you learned on the dense covering of ivy at the rear face of the house. While the preparations were being made for the ball that evening, young Adam indicated to one of the maids that he needed to use the lavatory. He was taken to the lavatory, from which he squeezed through the window - which, to judge by your frame, young Adam, would not be much of a chore - and climbed up to the window of Miss Cartwright's bedroom, using the ivy like a ladder. A few fibers from his clothing caught on the rough wood of the window-frame, and I should not be surprised if his had gotten a splinter or two during the process." I took note of the way the boy presently tucked his hands under the folds of his sleeves.
"As the wind during the rainstorm was coming from the west that night, the same direction the house faces, the boy did not get wet during his climb, nor would anyone expect him to have left any puddles on the sill or the in the room inside. Once he got to the sill, though, he was forced to wait, as Mrs Weaver was still inside the room, finishing laying out Miss Cartwright's clothing and jewelry for the ball. I cannot be certain if Miss Cartwright herself was still there, but the matter is immaterial, as she would have been leaving shortly to have her bath.
"It is difficult enough to notice through the sheer curtains a man-sized figure in the window during the daytime when one is not expecting one, let alone a small child in the evening. Thus Adam had an ideal opportunity to see where the key to the jewelry-box would be hidden after Mrs Weaver finished selecting the jewelry for the ball. Though the window had been closed to keep out the rain, I do not think it was locked, as the sash and the latch showed no signs of tampering. So, all the boy had to do was open the window and climb inside. He got the key from its hiding-place and opened the jewelry-box. He had on him the pocket-watch I mentioned earlier, which he left in exchange for the jewelry. Again, I trust you will supply the motive for this curious detail. He filled his pockets with the jewelry, left the watch, and climbed out the way he had come, climbing back down the ivy and back through the window to the lavatory. There he rejoined the maid, who took him back down to the main hall with an airtight alibi." By this point the two on the sofa could see that there was no use in any further denials.
"It was a fair trade," said McKinley, "I always left something behind to pay for it, and I taught my boy to do the same. It isn't stealing if you leave something for it."
"A diamond bracelet for a gold watch?" Emily asked sharply, "A gold watch for a boxful of jewelry?"
"Would you have felt better if I hadn't left anything at all?" McKinley demanded, starting to get to his feet.
"Sir! Madam! Settle down!" I entreated the both of them, "I said *sit down,* Mr. McKinley. Your misplaced sense of barter caused an innocent man to be accused of your crime, and I certainly hope your son learns a better trade than burglary in the future."
"Excuse me, sir," Leopold interrupted, "Once the theft was discovered we searched everyone and didn't find the jewelry."
"There is a very good reason for that," I replied, a shade annoyed at the interruption, "Once the theft was discovered, I expect it was difficult to maintain order in the main hall."
"Well, it was a bit chaotic - I couldn't really see for certain, since I was by the door, keeping track of who had come who was on the list, and then keeping the early-comers distinct from the late-comers."
"So nobody would have noticed a small boy stashing away the jewelry somewhere in the crowded main hall, so that he and his father could retrieve it later."
There was a long silence in the sitting room. I always enjoyed moments like this. Finally Emily spoke:
"Well, where is it, then?" she said, slightly spoiling the moment.
"Follow me, all of you. Leopold, I believe those are three officers of the law ringing the bell, do let them in and have them join us in the main hall."
Once my audience - Emily, the suspects, the police, and the butler - were gathered in the main hall, I strolled over to the dining-table and peered discreetly into the large plaster bowl which contained the centrepiece of orchids. The water had mostly evaporated and the flowers were starting to wilt, but otherwise the contents were intact.
To the policemen, I said: "You came just in time. I was about to show Miss Cartwright where the burglars hid her jewelry."
With a sudden flourish I snatched up the bowl of flowers and dropped it on the parquet floor at my feet, where it smashed into fragments. The flowers exploded away from the centre of impact and scattered on the floor, leaving Miss Cartwright's jewelry in plain view.
The report had also summoned the attention of one more player in the story, whose carriage I had heard pulling up shortly after that of the police, and who now urgently elbowed and jostled his way to the front. Mr Cartwright looked at my battered face, then at Emily's, and he turned an interesting shade of crimson as he came to a perfectly understandable but in this case incorrect conclusion. I offered him a tight-lipped smile and prepared to run.
*****
End of Part 13.
Author's note: I know you're all itching to hear Holmes' conclusions on this case and to see justice served - so here it is!
*****
There was already another cab waiting at the front of the estate by the time we pulled up. I had given Leopold explicit instructions before we'd left to detain anyone who came to the estate and tried to take away any of the decorations, particularly the flower arrangements, until we'd returned. When the butler greeted us at the door, the look of immense relief was evident on his face.
"Mr Holmes... Miss Emily," he said stoically, "You will find in the sitting room two people with whom I expect you will wish to speak. To be honest, sir, I was starting to wonder how much longer you'd be." He stopped suddenly, and glanced at Emily "Miss Emily, what has happened to you?"
"Nothing to worry about, Leopold," she replied with as much of a smile as her swollen lip would allow, "Mr Holmes and I ran into a few difficulties during out investigation."
"It looks as though you were in a fight!"
"We were," she summarised, "Now, I'm sure we don't want to keep our guests waiting, do we, Leopold?"
"Er. No, Miss Emily," said Leopold, caught slightly off-balance by Emily's matter-of-fact response, "Follow me, please."
"And where is Mr Cartwright?" I asked, "I noticed that the family sedan was not in its accustomed position."
Leopold glanced at me mildly; countless years of training allowed the butler to not even betray his exasperation. "The master is away on an errand - and a good thing, too, if I may be so bold - but I expect him to return at any minute."
I sighed. "I would have preferred that he be there for the confrontation - after all, it is his daughter's jewelry that is at stake - but I suppose it cannot be helped. Lead on."
In the sitting room we found the large deliveryman, and a slender six-year old child with overgrown blonde hair, a shirt two sizes too large for him, and an expression of naive innocence upon his face. They both looked up as we entered, and immediately the man's face drew into a frown as he recognised us. It appeared that my last vision of Emily clawing at his face from behind was genuine, as on his left cheek were three parallel scratches, which would have appeared to be nail gouges even had the marks made by the broken nails not been in evidence. "Good afternoon," I said to them in my usual tone, which I expect sounded completely at odds with my costume, "My name is Sherlock Holmes, and this young lady is Miss Emily Cartwright - the woman whose jewelry you took."
The man flinched violently at my accusation, and the boy cowered close to him.
"Now," I continued, "Would you like to explain how it was done, or shall I? One way or another, it makes no difference to me. But to start, I would like to know your names. It makes things so much easier during conversation."
"My name is Arthur McKinley," the man said in a resigned tone, "and this is my son Adam - but I swear to you, we don't know anything about any burglary!"
I saw Emily's eyes flashing with something dangerous during this denial, and I placed a warning hand on her shoulder.
"Shall I refresh your memory then?" I asked in placid rhetoric, "Of course, you may feel free to correct me if I misstep. You may recall, four days ago, acquiring a gold pocket-watch from a stout man with a moustache. In the process of picking his pocket you left behind a diamond bracelet, for reasons which I'm certain you will supply. The following evening, Miss Cartwright here was having her debutante ball, for which her father had hired four service companies - a florist, a caterer, a decorator, and a delivery service to bring it all in. You work for the delivery service, and your son is the apprentice to one of the decorators.
"Whether by coincidence or design, those specific companies - yours and his - were hired. I expect this same combination may be found at the sites of the other burglaries - but I digress. During some preliminary designing of the ball, you were both given ample opportunity to scout out the estate, during which you learned on the dense covering of ivy at the rear face of the house. While the preparations were being made for the ball that evening, young Adam indicated to one of the maids that he needed to use the lavatory. He was taken to the lavatory, from which he squeezed through the window - which, to judge by your frame, young Adam, would not be much of a chore - and climbed up to the window of Miss Cartwright's bedroom, using the ivy like a ladder. A few fibers from his clothing caught on the rough wood of the window-frame, and I should not be surprised if his had gotten a splinter or two during the process." I took note of the way the boy presently tucked his hands under the folds of his sleeves.
"As the wind during the rainstorm was coming from the west that night, the same direction the house faces, the boy did not get wet during his climb, nor would anyone expect him to have left any puddles on the sill or the in the room inside. Once he got to the sill, though, he was forced to wait, as Mrs Weaver was still inside the room, finishing laying out Miss Cartwright's clothing and jewelry for the ball. I cannot be certain if Miss Cartwright herself was still there, but the matter is immaterial, as she would have been leaving shortly to have her bath.
"It is difficult enough to notice through the sheer curtains a man-sized figure in the window during the daytime when one is not expecting one, let alone a small child in the evening. Thus Adam had an ideal opportunity to see where the key to the jewelry-box would be hidden after Mrs Weaver finished selecting the jewelry for the ball. Though the window had been closed to keep out the rain, I do not think it was locked, as the sash and the latch showed no signs of tampering. So, all the boy had to do was open the window and climb inside. He got the key from its hiding-place and opened the jewelry-box. He had on him the pocket-watch I mentioned earlier, which he left in exchange for the jewelry. Again, I trust you will supply the motive for this curious detail. He filled his pockets with the jewelry, left the watch, and climbed out the way he had come, climbing back down the ivy and back through the window to the lavatory. There he rejoined the maid, who took him back down to the main hall with an airtight alibi." By this point the two on the sofa could see that there was no use in any further denials.
"It was a fair trade," said McKinley, "I always left something behind to pay for it, and I taught my boy to do the same. It isn't stealing if you leave something for it."
"A diamond bracelet for a gold watch?" Emily asked sharply, "A gold watch for a boxful of jewelry?"
"Would you have felt better if I hadn't left anything at all?" McKinley demanded, starting to get to his feet.
"Sir! Madam! Settle down!" I entreated the both of them, "I said *sit down,* Mr. McKinley. Your misplaced sense of barter caused an innocent man to be accused of your crime, and I certainly hope your son learns a better trade than burglary in the future."
"Excuse me, sir," Leopold interrupted, "Once the theft was discovered we searched everyone and didn't find the jewelry."
"There is a very good reason for that," I replied, a shade annoyed at the interruption, "Once the theft was discovered, I expect it was difficult to maintain order in the main hall."
"Well, it was a bit chaotic - I couldn't really see for certain, since I was by the door, keeping track of who had come who was on the list, and then keeping the early-comers distinct from the late-comers."
"So nobody would have noticed a small boy stashing away the jewelry somewhere in the crowded main hall, so that he and his father could retrieve it later."
There was a long silence in the sitting room. I always enjoyed moments like this. Finally Emily spoke:
"Well, where is it, then?" she said, slightly spoiling the moment.
"Follow me, all of you. Leopold, I believe those are three officers of the law ringing the bell, do let them in and have them join us in the main hall."
Once my audience - Emily, the suspects, the police, and the butler - were gathered in the main hall, I strolled over to the dining-table and peered discreetly into the large plaster bowl which contained the centrepiece of orchids. The water had mostly evaporated and the flowers were starting to wilt, but otherwise the contents were intact.
To the policemen, I said: "You came just in time. I was about to show Miss Cartwright where the burglars hid her jewelry."
With a sudden flourish I snatched up the bowl of flowers and dropped it on the parquet floor at my feet, where it smashed into fragments. The flowers exploded away from the centre of impact and scattered on the floor, leaving Miss Cartwright's jewelry in plain view.
The report had also summoned the attention of one more player in the story, whose carriage I had heard pulling up shortly after that of the police, and who now urgently elbowed and jostled his way to the front. Mr Cartwright looked at my battered face, then at Emily's, and he turned an interesting shade of crimson as he came to a perfectly understandable but in this case incorrect conclusion. I offered him a tight-lipped smile and prepared to run.
*****
End of Part 13.