Disclaimer: See part 1.
*****
The third person on the list was a Robert Kingsley. I still shivered as I moved into Mr. Kingsley's main room, I prayed I would have better luck with him than I had with the previous two.
"Won't you sit down?" Robert asked with an exceptionally charming smile.
I accepted gladly and chose a chair close to the fire. I tried to relax and let the heat treat my throbbing shoulder.
"Dr. Watson, you say?" Robert asked, joining me by the fire.
"Yes, Dr. John Watson." I assured, wondering at the thoughtfulness in his tone.
"Oh yes, of course! You're Mr. Holmes' friend!"
"Er...yes. You're right." I replied, trying to work out how on earth he knew that.
"He talks about you an awful lot." Robert said with a fond smile that reached his intelligent eyes.
"Actually, I am here on his behalf. It is about James Wilkinson." I said trying to give the impression I knew more about the relationship between them than I did.
"On his behalf? Why hasn't he come himself?" his smile started to fade, "Where is Holmes? And where is my brother?" his quick eyes widened and he was looking decidedly panicked as he rose from his seat.
"Your brother? Who is he?"
"James is my brother. Where's James?" he turned to look at me with worried eyes.
"James?" I mumbled back to myself. I checked the list of names again, and there he was, Robert Kingsley - not Wilkinson. "I didn't know he was your brother."
"His parents died when he was young, my father took him in. Where is he? If Holmes is not able to make it in person then something must be wrong."
I rose from my chair and placed a calming hand on his arm. It appeared that he hadn't been informed of his brother's death, and even though I did not feel it my place to let him know, I had been burdened many times with this duty throughout my career, and I knew that I had to tell him.
"I am sorry, Robert. James is dead." I spoke as softly as possible.
For a few moments, all that could be heard was the cracking of the fire as he slid back down into his seat. He finally managed to compose himself. "Murdered I take it."
I was a little surprised, "Yes." I replied simply, not allowing myself to indulge in my curiosities.
"So where is Holmes?" he asked quietly.
"He is at home, he sends his apologies for not being able to come in person."
His quick eyes searched mine. "They think it's him don't they. They think Holmes did it."
"They found his cuff-link at the scene of the crime." I decided I might as well be completely forthright with him now.
"That's nonsense!" I could see anger in those eyes now, "A cuff-link means nothing, he probably accidentally left it with him days ago. Holmes would never do anything like that to him, he cared about James too much."
The last statement caught me off guard. The way he had said it suggested a very close friendship, and a part of my brain was pressing that he meant even more than that, but I shook it off. "I don't believe he is a murderer either, that is why I am here, to make some inquiries for him." I said quietly, almost absently.
"I'm afraid I don't know anything, Doctor. I haven't seen either of them for two days." He looked down at his nervously twisting hands, "Dr. Watson, although Holmes had started to hold back a little, he still loved James. And James, he loved Holmes more than anything, even if in this last year it has been more as friends then lovers. Please, you have to help them. James will not be able to rest in peace until his murderer is brought to justice - and neither will Holmes."
*****
The third person on the list was a Robert Kingsley. I still shivered as I moved into Mr. Kingsley's main room, I prayed I would have better luck with him than I had with the previous two.
"Won't you sit down?" Robert asked with an exceptionally charming smile.
I accepted gladly and chose a chair close to the fire. I tried to relax and let the heat treat my throbbing shoulder.
"Dr. Watson, you say?" Robert asked, joining me by the fire.
"Yes, Dr. John Watson." I assured, wondering at the thoughtfulness in his tone.
"Oh yes, of course! You're Mr. Holmes' friend!"
"Er...yes. You're right." I replied, trying to work out how on earth he knew that.
"He talks about you an awful lot." Robert said with a fond smile that reached his intelligent eyes.
"Actually, I am here on his behalf. It is about James Wilkinson." I said trying to give the impression I knew more about the relationship between them than I did.
"On his behalf? Why hasn't he come himself?" his smile started to fade, "Where is Holmes? And where is my brother?" his quick eyes widened and he was looking decidedly panicked as he rose from his seat.
"Your brother? Who is he?"
"James is my brother. Where's James?" he turned to look at me with worried eyes.
"James?" I mumbled back to myself. I checked the list of names again, and there he was, Robert Kingsley - not Wilkinson. "I didn't know he was your brother."
"His parents died when he was young, my father took him in. Where is he? If Holmes is not able to make it in person then something must be wrong."
I rose from my chair and placed a calming hand on his arm. It appeared that he hadn't been informed of his brother's death, and even though I did not feel it my place to let him know, I had been burdened many times with this duty throughout my career, and I knew that I had to tell him.
"I am sorry, Robert. James is dead." I spoke as softly as possible.
For a few moments, all that could be heard was the cracking of the fire as he slid back down into his seat. He finally managed to compose himself. "Murdered I take it."
I was a little surprised, "Yes." I replied simply, not allowing myself to indulge in my curiosities.
"So where is Holmes?" he asked quietly.
"He is at home, he sends his apologies for not being able to come in person."
His quick eyes searched mine. "They think it's him don't they. They think Holmes did it."
"They found his cuff-link at the scene of the crime." I decided I might as well be completely forthright with him now.
"That's nonsense!" I could see anger in those eyes now, "A cuff-link means nothing, he probably accidentally left it with him days ago. Holmes would never do anything like that to him, he cared about James too much."
The last statement caught me off guard. The way he had said it suggested a very close friendship, and a part of my brain was pressing that he meant even more than that, but I shook it off. "I don't believe he is a murderer either, that is why I am here, to make some inquiries for him." I said quietly, almost absently.
"I'm afraid I don't know anything, Doctor. I haven't seen either of them for two days." He looked down at his nervously twisting hands, "Dr. Watson, although Holmes had started to hold back a little, he still loved James. And James, he loved Holmes more than anything, even if in this last year it has been more as friends then lovers. Please, you have to help them. James will not be able to rest in peace until his murderer is brought to justice - and neither will Holmes."