Chapter 8 – A light in the Darkness

"How did you know it was Smith, out of all the servants here?"

The following morning had brought more police, press and nosy villagers than the murder had, and for a while, Miss Summerley was kept busy restoring order to the chaotic household. The servants and housekeeper, upon hearing of Smith's guilt, were thrown into disarray, resulting in the former not preparing breakfast, and the latter going to bed ill. The mistress, Miss Allan, though well enough to be up an about, was still too weak to be of any use and on top of it all, the police and Scotland Yard were once again stampeding throughout the building, asking questions left, right and centre; so it wasn't until the middle of the afternoon, that Miss Summerley was able to draw breath; having hunted the police and gossiping villagers, and put the servants back into their routine.

It was at this point, she went looking for Mr Holmes, whom she had not seen since the night before.

She found him back in his quarters: the floor and furniture covered with papers and the man himself, stretched out on the floor on top of them, burrowing through them like a mole. After exchanging greetings, and finding herself a place where she could be comfortably seated, they then conversed upon the night before.

"Simple," the detective replied, after re-lighting his pipe. "All the other servants in the manor are people born and brought up in this village, and have been with the family for years; Smith, however, is relatively new, and is not from the village, therefore he seemed the more likely suspect.

My suspicions were confirmed when I discovered that the glass of water, which contained the poison, had been given to Mr Allan by Smith."

"How did you discover that?" Miss Summerley asked.

"From the cook," Holmes replied, " she had been present when Smith took the glass to her master – a rather clumsy mistake, since the statement is damning; the boy obviously hasn't much experience in homicides."

Miss Summerley looked at him anxiously. "But why would he then go after Judith? What was the purpose of him killing them both?"

"Well, the Scotland Yard inspector, Lestrade, believes Smith was hired by one of Mr Allan's debtors to murder the siblings in order for them to claim the money that was owed them."

"But you don't think so," Miss Summerley pressed, and Holmes gave out a hearty laugh.

"My, my!" he said, "the faculty of observation is certainly contagious, for it has enabled you at once, to reveal my differing perspectives. Miss Summerley you have intelligence that goes beyond your years."

"Why do you think Smith wanted to murder Judith?" Miss Summerley insisted, though the compliment gave her an unnatural twitch of excitement.

"Well, the reasons I disagree with the inspector's take on the matter lie before you now," Holmes replied, indicating the papers, "I left for London yesterday morning to get them."

"What are they?"

"They consist of the will of old Mr Allan," Holmes replied, "an important and complicated amount of documents since it decides the future of one of the wealthiest famillies of this area – but I felt it was necessary to bring it as research material and possible evidence."

"And?"

"It immediately excludes the theory of Smith being hired by debtors to murder your friend or her brother – no good would come of it."

"Why?"

"Because in the event of both Mr Harry Allan and Miss Judith Allan dying without heirs, Mr Allan states in his will that you, Miss Summerley, are to be recipient of Gable Manor and the entire fortune connected with the estate."

As he said this, Holmes looked up at Miss Summerley, who was now sitting in a daze.

"You did not know this," he stated, turning away and reading the papers he had in his hand.

"No, I did not," Miss Summerley answered, passing the back of her hand across her forehead. "I had no idea."

"Then you will also be unaware that an addition has been made to the will by Mr Harry Allan," said Holmes.

"Harry made an addition?"

"Stating that upon his death, his sister would inherit the estate and wealth, with the exception of one thousand pounds, which you are to inherit – no doubt it was on this matter that he wished to discuss with you the day before he died."

Miss Summerley didn't answer, and for a while, they were silent; Holmes continuing to read various papers and Miss Summerley staring out the window.

"You still haven't said why Smith would want to kill Harry and Judith, Mr Holmes," Miss Summerley said eventually, in a hushed voice.

At this, Holmes threw the papers in his hand into the air, with a quick movement that conveyed his irritation.

"Alas, Miss Summerley, I am unable to say," he said, rising to his feet.

"You have no theories?" she asked.

"I have several theories – each of them as unlikely as the next – and Smith is of no help, he will say nothing!"

His voice rose as he spoke, and he paced the room with an obsessive energy Miss Summerley had never seen before. She sat and watched him for a while, and for the first time since they met, was able to study him. He was remarkably tall and thin, with dark brown hair combed back from his thin white face. His hawk like nose fitted well with his large green eyes; which seemed to blaze with an inner strength that she found fascinating. He would be quite handsome, she thought, if he would only smile more.

He stood before her, gazing out of the window; his brows furrowed, and his eyes roaming across the landscape as though hoping to see the answers run through the fields before him. He was evidently very much perturbed by his being unable to discover why Smith was motivated to act as he had.

Miss Summerley then stood, and his attention once more turned to her as she drew an envelope from the pocket in her skirt.

"I have been instructed by Judith to give you this on her behalf, Mr Holmes," she said, holding the envelope out to him, "she hopes you will accept it, as I hope you will accept my deepest apologies for being so discourteous – Indeed, my behaviour towards you since you have arrived has been intolerable, and I hope I have not offended you too deeply."

Holmes looked down at the envelope she held as though it were a rattle snake.

"Your gracious apology I accept in the hope that no more be said on the matter," he answered, "the cheque that you hold, however, I cannot accept – I have not merited it."

"I do not see it in that light," Miss Summerley replied with a smile, "and neither does Judith – we are both eternally grateful to you for your help in capturing the murderer. He will be seen as guilty with or without sufficient motive, and as long as he is punished for his crime, the rest need not matter as far as I can see. I do know that Judith will be very upset with me if I return with this cheque still in my possession and no doubt she will blame me for not having persuaded you more forcefully, and so I offer it to you again, Mr Holmes, along with my friendship - if you will have it."

Holmes stared at the woman before him. Never before had he met such a personification of frankness in any other man or woman of his acquaintance. Mingled with the childlike innocence that had not yet been shattered by the hardships of an adult, Holmes was struck by a momentary silence and was at a loss as to what to do. What was this queer feeling that made his stomach turn and his heart flutter?

Eventually, he took the envelope and then took the hand that remained extended for him to shake. It was warm, pale and tiny, and he engulfed it in his gentle grip.

"Thank you, Miss Summerley," he said softly, "you do me a great honour."

He noticed her cheeks suddenly flush, and the sudden temporary confusion that he had found himself only moments ago, seemed to have made it's way to her, as she hastily withdrew her hand and instantly changed the subject.

"So will you be returning to London this evening, or tomorrow morning?"

Holmes smiled as he answered: "Neither."

"Oh?"

"Another case which I was following before yours, is also linked to this area, which I will be looking into more thoroughly. No doubt Watson and I will impose ourselves upon the village in for the remainder of our stay."

"Oh please, Mr Holmes, you and Doctor Watson should feel free to remain at Gable Manor for the duration of your stay – it is certainly more comfortable and more private than the inn and Judith and I would be honoured to have you both as our guests."

"Well thank you Miss Summerley," Holmes replied, leaning against the fireplace, "I accept your invitation on behalf of both myself and Doctor Watson."

"Pray, may I hear of this other case?" she asked, her voice and manner conveying her great curiousity.

"You have a claim to hear it. The Chief person in the case was a total stranger to me, and is possibly a total stranger to you; but she certainly mentioned the name of the late Mrs Harrison in terms of sincerest gratitude and regard."

"Mentioned my adopted mother's name! You interest me indescribably, Mr Holmes. Please continue."

Holmes at once related the circumstances under which he had met the woman in the graveyard, exactly as they had occurred; and he repeated what she had said to him about Mrs Harrison and Green Gables, word for word.

Miss Summerley's bright resolute eyes looked eagerly into his, from the beginning of the narrative to the end. Her face expressed vivid interest and astonishment, but nothing more, and Holmes concluded that she was evidently as far from knowing of any clue to the mystery as he was.

"Are you quite sure of those words referring to Mrs Harrison?" she asked.

"Quite sure," Holmes replied, sitting cross-legged in an armchair, with rings of smoke circling his head. "Whoever she may be, the woman was once at school in the village, was treated with especial kindness by Mrs Harrison, and, in grateful remembrance of that kindness, feels an affectionate interest in all surviving members of her family. She knew that Mrs Harrison was dead, and she spoke of your friend, Miss Allan and her brother as if she had known them when they were children."

"You said, I think, that she denied belonging to this place?"

"Yes, she told me she came from Hampshire."

"And you entirely failed to find out her name?"

"Entirely."

"Very strange, I think you were quite justified, Mr Holmes, in giving the poor creature her liberty, for she seems to have done nothing in your presence to show herself unfit to enjoy it."

"I'm gratified to hear you say that," said Holmes, "Doctor Watson didn't seem to agree with my reasoning."

"I wish you had been a bit more resolute about finding out her name. You had better not speak of it yet to Miss Allan. She is, I am certain, quite ignorant of who the woman is, and of what her past history in connection with us can be, as I am myself. But she is also, in widely different ways, rather nervous and sensitive; and you would only alarm her to no purpose. I however, am all aflame with curiousity. Mrs Harrison, when we arrived here from Canada, did indeed establish the village school just as it exists at the present time. But the old teachers are all dead, or gone elsewhere; and no enlightenment is to be hoped for from that quarter..."

Her voice trailed off as she turned the mystery over in her mind. Holmes watched her in amusement; the way she was talking, it sounded like she was taking over, but he didn't mind. He was sure that some clue as to the identity of his mystery woman lay somewhere in this house, and he had no doubt that Miss Summerley would find it, for he deduced her to be as industrious as she was intelligent.

"The only other alternative I can think of," she said eventually, "Judith and I have a large collection of Mrs Harrison's letters, addressed to old Mr Allan. In the absence of any other means of getting information, I will spend the afternoon in looking over Mrs Harrison's correspondence with Mr Allan. The two were great friends, but Mr Allan was fond of London, and was constantly away from Gable Manor; and she was accustomed, at such times, to write and report to him how things went on at Gable Manor. Her letters are full of references to the school in which she dedicated her life; and I think it more than likely that I may have discovered something when we meet for dinner."

Holmes neither moved, nor showed any obvious eyes of interest as she spoke. But when he looked at her, his eyes were ablaze at the thought of coming closer to the source of this mystery.

"I would be grateful of your assistance in that area, Miss Summerley," he replied, getting to his feet as she rose and made her way to the door.

"You will be at dinner then?" she asked hopefully, "Doctor Watson has hope that Judith may be able to join us tonight. At seven?"

"I look forward to seeing Miss Allan again," Holmes replied, implying his intent to attend and she smiled at him happily.

"Till seven o'clock, then. Good day, Mr Holmes."

"Good day. Miss Summerley."

She left quietly, and closed the door behind her. Holmes listened to her footsteps as she walked down the corridor and down the stairs, until he could hear her no longer. He then turned back to the window once again, and watched the a beams of light from the sun, break through the intimidating darkness of the clouds.