'Just lying in the ditch?' repeated Prudence, her eyes very round

'Yes,' confirmed Ida, for the third time.

'What can have happened?'

The kettle started whistling on the stove, as the water reached boiling point. Ida grabbed a teatowel to protect her hands and went to remove it.

'And you went and got help?' Prudence continued,

'Yes,' said Ida, simply, 'I was going to go and find one of the mountain rescue lads, but as luck would have it, Mr Jacobs was passing along the road in his trap just as I came back into town,'

'Aah! So that's why I was woken by hoofbeats at 6 o clock this morning!'

'You should have been up anyway!' exclaimed Ida, in mock disapproval,

'Hah, well, as it turned out I did have to light all the fires…' Prudence reminded her,

'…Yes….er…sorry about that…'

Ida's reluctant explanation was cut off by ringing of one of the bells which were positioned above the kitchen door,

'I'll go,' she said quickly, glancing at the still vibrating bell, 'Room 5, wasn't it?'

………

Outside Holmes' room, Ida paused for a moment, then knocked, calling

'You rang, sir?'

She clearly heard footsteps on the other side of the door, then it swung open to reveal Dr Watson.

'Ah,' he said, 'it's you. I never got a chance to thank you properly, did I?'

'I…' Ida stared uncomfortably at her boots,

'Well, thankyou. And Mr Holmes is also very grateful…'

'….Watson!' a voice interrupted from inside the room, 'I'd thank you for not letting that howling gale of a draft in through the door any longer…'

The doctor rolled his eyes, and gestured for Ida to come inside.

'Holmes,' he said, 'this is the girl who…'

'…Not now, Watson, I'm trying to tell you…'

Ida stood with her back against the inside of the bedroom door, looking at the room out of the corner of her eye whilst ostensibly keeping her gaze respectfully fixed on the skirting board of the opposite wall. Holmes was lying on the bed, his head propped up on two pillows. A livid bruise was now obvious on his left temple, and from the bandages visible round his upper arm above the bedsheet it seemed as though he had been pretty badly beaten up. But although fatigue was obvious in his voice, it had an acidic edge which had not been present earlier that morning.

'…Watson, every moment that passes, precious evidence is being lost! Herds of cattle are no doubt rampaging down that lane as we speak!'

Ida opened her mouth, but then thought better of commenting. Dr Watson was radiating exasperation,

'You still haven't explained to me what happened, Holmes. What was Grimshaw doing here? Where were you going? Who did this to you?'

Holmes' face took on a noticeably pained expression

'I…don't know,' he grudgingly admitted.

'You don't know who did this?' repeated Watson, in surprise

'I was most certainly not expecting it.'

'No, of course not, but surely you have some idea?'

'I know that Grimshaw hadn't told us everything…'

'…but you said that his case was closed!'

'Did I ever use those exact words?'

'Well…no…but…'

'Grimshaw is involved in something far, far greater than the trifling matter which was originally brought to our attention. He barely knew what he was getting himself into, and now he…he is in grave danger.'

'But you can't mean…?'

'…I fear for his life.' said Holmes, with utter seriousness. 'The gang who came upon the pair of us in that lane last night seem to have kidnapped him. Which is why it is imperative that we…' he paused, then, with an air of resignation continued,

'that you go and examine every inch of that lane for some sort of clue.'

Dr Watson opened his mouth as if to protest…then sighed, and nodded slowly

'Very well,' he said.

He turned away from the bed, and went to the desk which occupied the space beneath the room's single window. Both men seemed to have forgotten Ida's presence.

'…Um…Doctor?' she asked, 'what was it you wanted?'

'Oh! I do beg your pardon!' he said, turning, 'Now, why did I ring…'

Ida waited patiently while he mused, then 'Ah!' he exclaimed, 'I thought that Holmes should have some breakfast,'

'That won't be necessary,' interjected the man himself

'Holmes, you must eat…'

Ida looked, confused, from one to the other, as a battle of wills commenced.

'Perhaps,' said the doctor, to no one in particular, 'some tea would be acceptable?'

Ida took Holmes' silence as assent, and, inclining her head briefly, she turned and left.

………

'Tea, sir,' Ida announced, as she balanced the tray on her knee with one hand, whilst using the other to turn the door handle. She heard no response, but stood upright and pushed open the door with her foot anyway.

Holmes was still lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling, oblivious to all around him. There was no sign of Doctor Watson. Ida entered the room, and set down the tray on the bedside table, letting the teacup and saucer clash together just a little more loudly than they needed to. Holmes' gaze slid over to her.

'Thankyou,' he said, hollowly. Ida bobbed a half hearted curtsey, and asked

'Shall I pour you a cup?'

'No.' He returned his eyes to the ceiling once more.

'Is there anything else, sir?'

'No.'

Ida curtseyed again, deliberately taking her time, and with as sardonic an expression as she dared. He seemed to be taking no notice, anyway. But as she headed for the door, something she had pushed to the back of her mind suddenly re emerged, with new significance. She shoved her hand into the pocket of her skirt. Yes, there it was…

'…Sir?'

'Yes?' Holmes' voice held a trace of irritation now

'Begging your pardon sir, but I think I've found something that might interest you…'

She returned to the bedside, hand outstretched, the silver cufflink in her palm

'I picked it up on the road this morning. I don't know if…'

'…give it to me,' interrupted Holmes, propping himself up on his right elbow and reaching out with his other hand. His eyes seemed suddenly alight.

Ida handed it over,

'It's probably not important, but I just thought…'

Holmes waved at her to be quiet, holding the cufflink right up to his eyes.

'…can't see a thing in this light,' he muttered.

Ida went wordlessly to the window and pulled back the curtains, which had been half closed. Holmes gave her a surprised, yet gratified glance.

'I don't suppose, Miss…'

'…Miss Greene, sir,' Ida re informed him,

'Miss Greene, yes, I don't suppose that you could fetch me the magnifying glass that's in that suitcase over there?'

Ida went to the corner of the room, where a large leather suitcase was resting on its side,

'It's not locked,' said Holmes. 'The magnifying glass is tucked down the side of the pile of clothes…'

Ida gingerly opened the suitcase, to reveal a pile of shirts, some underclothes and several brown cardboard boxes, tied up with string. She noticed some writing on the boxes which read 'University Museum,' but the rest was obscured.

'Have you found it?' asked Holmes, impatiently. Ida thrust her hand down the side of the pile of shirts, and her fingers closed around something smooth and cold.

'Yes,' she said, pulling out the magnifying glass. He seized it, and began examining the cuff link in minute detail.

Ida hung back, not wanting to leave, but not sure whether she was expected to stay.

'…H…F…' he said aloud, 'hah! Now we're getting somewhere! Tell me, Miss Greene, do the initials H F mean anything to you?'

'H F,' said Ida slowly, racking her brains. The only name which sprang to mind was that of Horace Fortescue. He was the eldest son of William Fortescue, one of the biggest local landowners. In fact, now that Ida thought of it, the Fortescues were probably Mrs Beech's landlords. But…Horace Fortescue? Could he really have been one of Holmes's assailants?

'…Miss Greene?' asked Holmes once again, 'the initials?'

'…All I can think of is Horace Fortescue…' she answered, 'He's…'

'Oh, I know who he is!' cried Holmes, 'oh, now we're definitely on the right scent…'

'I'm afraid I don't understand, sir…'

'…how do you know the name Horace Fortescue?'

'…I…' she floundered. He fixed her with a penetrating stare,

'…Miss Greene, lives are at stake…'

'…He's the son of Lord William Fortescue…' Ida said, hesitantly. Holmes seemed to be waiting for more, so she added 'They live in the big house down on the lakeside…They own lots of land in the town… I, um…sometimes talk to their kitchen maid if I see her in the town…I…'

Holmes raised a long, bony finger to silence her

'The kitchen maid?'

'…Yes…' said Ida, uncertainly,

'Hmmm.' Holmes steepled his fingers over his chest and looked keenly at her.

'Miss Greene,' he began, 'I wonder if I could impose upon you to assist me in this investigation…'

'…investigation?' she repeated, staring stupidly

'…an investigation into…well…as a starting point I suppose it is an investigation into the disappearance of Mr Grimshaw…'

'…Mr Grimshaw…'

'…who visited this boarding house last night.'

'Yes, I remember,' said Ida, glad to return to something more familiar, 'he was missing a shoelace…'

'...You noticed that, eh?' asked Holmes, smiling ever so slightly. 'Yes, Mr Grimshaw. Now, I have reason to believe that Horace Fortescue has something to do with…'

'…hang on,' interrupted Ida, 'now wait a minute, H F doesn't have to mean Horace Fortescue, it could mean any number of…'

Now Holmes really did smile.

'Miss Greene, I do believe your assistance will be invaluable.'

'Mr Holmes, I…'

'…over there, on the dressing table, you will find Watson's notebook. In it he has recorded an account of the case which led us here, to Keswick. I believe that if you read that things will seem a little clearer. He does have an unfortunate tendency to over dramatise what is a purely rational sequence of deductions, but…'

'…Mr Holmes, what are you asking me to do?'

'…You are under no obligation to do anything, Miss Greene. But please, read the notebook. Then perhaps you would be willing to carry out a little…surveillance…in a good cause?'

Ida stared at him in puzzlement. Holmes simply went back to examining the cufflink. Exasperated, she went over to the dressing table and picked up the rather tattered notebook. She had to admit the whole thing was very intriguing. Slipping the notebook into the pocket of her apron, she left the room.