A strange sort of numbness seemed to start filling his head, and Holmes sank to his knees in the middle of the marble hall floor. The hard coldness was, at least, a point of certainty. He rested his palms upon it and wished he could be part of its unbreakable, continuous whole…

'For the last time, Daniel, won't you let me be?'

That voice had to belong to Edwina, but in its shrill hysteria it was hardly recognisable.

'Edwina, darling, please…'

'Leave me!'

'But it's freezing out here, let's at least go into the house…'

'I want to stay here.'

'Then I'll stay with you…'

'…get away from me…'

'…Edwina, I…'

'Say it, Daniel, and I swear…'

'….alright, alright darling, I'll go into the house. You come when you're ready…'

Holmes stood up, as Daniel came through the door that Erin had left slightly ajar. He closed it firmly, and exclaimed in undisguised annoyance -

'Oh, you're still here.'

'Yes,' said Holmes, '….er...'

'Edwina's just outside, getting some air.'

'As you say.'

Daniel looked at him searchingly

'I don't much like your tone, sir…'

'…I don't much care for yours.'

Daniel's eyes now matched Holmes' for hostility, but he was clearly confused

'What…?'

'Morris was my best friend.'

'Quite so, and today was a most unfortunate…'

Holmes' fists were clenching as Daniel spoke, but before he completed the sentence something thumped on the wooden decking outside.

Daniel went white

'Edwina?' he called, with sudden urgency, turning back to the door. Holmes followed him out onto the jetty.

Edwina was lying in an ungainly heap on the slimy wood, petticoat visible beneath a tangle of skirt. Holmes pushed past Daniel to crouch down and feel for a pulse in her neck, but he could sense before he even touched her that,

'She's dead,' he said, simply.

The very air hung poised for a second or two, then Daniel unfroze and practically fell upon her prone figure

'Edwina! Edwina, oh…what have you done, my darling? It could have all been so perfect, but now… '

'…for God's sake, man, she's dead,' said Holmes, 'are you still thinking about the damn money?'

'Money?'

'The old woman's will! Oh, I know all about that…'

'You think that's all this is about?'

'I think you killed your aunt for your inheritance, and when you found out that she'd cut you out of the will you...'

Holmes cut off his sentence as Daniel began to laugh. Gathering his resolve he spoke his next words with a steely calm,

'You killed your aunt, you killed Morris and I will see you hang for it…'

'…Morris! That idiot?'

'…you…'

'...he had no idea…No idea at all what a prize he had…'

Daniel smoothed the pallid skin of Edwina's cheek and whispered softly

'Morris is gone, so I can't reach him, but someone will pay for your pain, I swear it…'

'You're mad,' said Holmes, 'you're completely mad, which I suppose could be some defence, but…'

'All I wanted, Edwina, all I wanted was you. I suggested the damn marriage clause to the old woman, I thought that it would help to persuade you… I… Oh, God! This is my punishment isn't it? I… I killed Aunt Lucinda because I needed to marry you now, I couldn't live without you, and I thought… I thought…'

His words descended into mumbling as he began rocking her body back and forth. Holmes noticed something slip onto the wooden decking, and stooped to pick it up. Daniel, wrapped in his grief, did not notice.

This glass bottle was smaller than that which Holmes had found in Daniel's room, and empty of all but the trace of a bitter almond scent. Where in the world had she got hold of it? A scrap of paper had been folded around the bottle, and then compressed against it so that its creases took on part of the bottle's shape relief. Holmes slipped it into his pocket. Examining the bottle again, he found a label that had been torn. Part of the P and the r of 'prussic' still remained. As he held the bottle in his hand, staring at the lettering, something clicked in his mind.

Morris, although not qualified as a doctor, had been in the habit of carrying around with him a small case containing his stethoscope, some basic first aid equipment and a variety of chemical treatments he had poached from the university stores. Holmes had considered this affectation harmless enough, and had even thought it might be useful, but now… to have unwittingly provided the means for his lover's suicide from beyond the grave…

He looked again at Edwina's lifeless form, lying not so very far from where some splinters of wood marked the point where Morris had died. How, in a matter of a days had his relatively uneventful life turned into this nightmare?

Holmes' eyes rested on Daniel, still hunched over his cousin.

Not a question of how, really, was it? It was a question of who to blame. And he already had an answer for that.