A/N: I still don't own anything except Kathryn. Please R/R! Enjoy!
Chapter 10- The Search for Hope
"Our next course of action is to go back to the scene of the crime," said Kathryn once we were back in a hansom. "Holmes was deliberately careless when he was investigating it. He knew that he was going to be accused, so he did not wish to bring any compromising evidence into light."
"We, on the other hand," she continued sternly, "must be objective. If Holmes really did commit the murder, no matter how small that possibility, we still must find the evidence. It is for us to find the truth."
An hour later, we were back at the scene of the crime. Little had changed of the modest bed and breakfast except the removal of the body. Only a small pool of blood was left to remind us of what had been there before. The bedroom seemed curiously large and empty, now that Julia Stamford had been removed. As we entered, a tiny ray of light shone in from the window landing upon the spot where the deceased had been, giving me an eerie feeling that sent a chill down my spine. Inspector Gregson was at the scene of the crime and greeted us, somewhat more coldly than was usual.
"Dr. Watson, and Miss Granger, it's nice to see you again," said he as we shook hands, "I am surprised to see you again here, as my colleague Mr. Lestrade has informed me that you have been here before."
"It is true, inspector," answered Kathryn in a sweet and innocent voice, "but my powers of observation and deduction do not surpass those of Mr. Holmes. You must be patient with me and allow me to examine the scene of the crime once again."
"As you wish, Miss Granger," said he with a sigh. "I'm afraid you won't find much here. Well, I'll be downstairs if you need me"
He turned and went out through the door.
"Well, now we can get down to work," said Kathryn with a sigh. With that, she immediately began to pace silently around the room, with much more care than before. The floor, mantelpiece, table, sofa, paintings, and chest of drawers all were minutely inspected in their due order. Several times Kathryn stopped at a place of interest and once she knelt down to pick up some particles of dust and put them into a small yellow envelope. She continued to do this for an hour until her meticulous gaze examined everything. She truly reminded me of the ways Holmes had examined a crime scene before me so many times in the past. When she rose again, I saw on her face a graver look than before, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that told me there was hope yet for our mutual friend.
"It seems that our friend, Holmes, has not given the proper credit to the good Colonel Moran," commented she as she completed her search. "Even Inspector Lestrade would have been able to determine the clues that point to Holmes's guilt. There are, however some minute traces of evidence, which point to a very different assailant. There is a strand of short silver hair on the sofa, an ornately carved ivory snuffbox standing on the side cupboard, and the dust inside this." She held up the little envelope between her softly tapered fingers.
"These clues may help us build up a case for our friend," she continued. "They are the most positive evidence I've seen all day, but the hope might flicker out. Only time will tell."
Chapter 10- The Search for Hope
"Our next course of action is to go back to the scene of the crime," said Kathryn once we were back in a hansom. "Holmes was deliberately careless when he was investigating it. He knew that he was going to be accused, so he did not wish to bring any compromising evidence into light."
"We, on the other hand," she continued sternly, "must be objective. If Holmes really did commit the murder, no matter how small that possibility, we still must find the evidence. It is for us to find the truth."
An hour later, we were back at the scene of the crime. Little had changed of the modest bed and breakfast except the removal of the body. Only a small pool of blood was left to remind us of what had been there before. The bedroom seemed curiously large and empty, now that Julia Stamford had been removed. As we entered, a tiny ray of light shone in from the window landing upon the spot where the deceased had been, giving me an eerie feeling that sent a chill down my spine. Inspector Gregson was at the scene of the crime and greeted us, somewhat more coldly than was usual.
"Dr. Watson, and Miss Granger, it's nice to see you again," said he as we shook hands, "I am surprised to see you again here, as my colleague Mr. Lestrade has informed me that you have been here before."
"It is true, inspector," answered Kathryn in a sweet and innocent voice, "but my powers of observation and deduction do not surpass those of Mr. Holmes. You must be patient with me and allow me to examine the scene of the crime once again."
"As you wish, Miss Granger," said he with a sigh. "I'm afraid you won't find much here. Well, I'll be downstairs if you need me"
He turned and went out through the door.
"Well, now we can get down to work," said Kathryn with a sigh. With that, she immediately began to pace silently around the room, with much more care than before. The floor, mantelpiece, table, sofa, paintings, and chest of drawers all were minutely inspected in their due order. Several times Kathryn stopped at a place of interest and once she knelt down to pick up some particles of dust and put them into a small yellow envelope. She continued to do this for an hour until her meticulous gaze examined everything. She truly reminded me of the ways Holmes had examined a crime scene before me so many times in the past. When she rose again, I saw on her face a graver look than before, but there was a sparkle in her eyes that told me there was hope yet for our mutual friend.
"It seems that our friend, Holmes, has not given the proper credit to the good Colonel Moran," commented she as she completed her search. "Even Inspector Lestrade would have been able to determine the clues that point to Holmes's guilt. There are, however some minute traces of evidence, which point to a very different assailant. There is a strand of short silver hair on the sofa, an ornately carved ivory snuffbox standing on the side cupboard, and the dust inside this." She held up the little envelope between her softly tapered fingers.
"These clues may help us build up a case for our friend," she continued. "They are the most positive evidence I've seen all day, but the hope might flicker out. Only time will tell."