Disclaimer: as usual, Holmes and Watson are ACD's creation, other characters are figments of my imagination.

Chapter 4

Lord Falconer sat quietly, with the head bowed in his hands. Watson had done as best as he could in calming him, but the truth was there for all to see; Benjamin Falconer's diary was missing, and with it all hope of meeting the kidnappers' demands seemed lost. Holmes alone appeared to be unperturbed.

"Come, Lord Falconer!" he exclaimed. "We need to be methodical."

"Methodical!" Falconer's voice trembled in disbelief, and not for the first time. "Mr Holmes, I take it you have no children ..."

Holmes waved away his concerns. "That has nothing to do with our current problem, which is becoming more interesting by the minute."

"To you, yes, but I'm the lad's parent! Do you not see the seriousness of the situation?" He looked at the clock. "It is now almost noon. In fourteen hours, assuming those who hold him are true to their word, my only son will be no more."

"I do not think that is likely, your Lordship." Holmes' voice was still calm, even, measured.

"I wish I had your confidence."

"You yourself came to us in London yesterday, to engage me to find your son. Is that not correct?"

"Of course it is. You know it is."

Holmes raised his voice slightly. "Then please let me get on with doing what you have asked me to do! And to do that, your Lordship will need to be in a fit state to render whatever assistance I need."

Falconer met Holmes' piercing grey eyes for a moment, and then made a great effort to pull himself together as instructed. "Very well, Mr Holmes, you are absolutely correct. I am of no use to you in a state of despair. So.... obviously Trevose has taken the notebook, would you not agree? So we need to find him, and quickly."

Holmes walked to the large window at the east end of the room, and looked out across the landscape of steep hills and fertile fields. "Where would you consider a good place to start? You know him. What were his habits?"

Falconer thought for a moment. "Well, to be quite frank, this house was his world. That is what is so surprising. He has no close living family – other than a nephew in Cambridge I think – and he wasn't especially friendly with any of the local families. At his age I believe he looked upon us as his family, this as his home, and rarely felt the need to leave other than on direct errands, such as the four trips a week into Tintagel for supplies and post."

Holmes sighed. "Then we must start close by. Your neighbours – the Needhams – is that their house?" He was pointing to a large house on the hillside facing them.

"Yes, Mr Holmes, a ten minute walk or so across the valley. Shall I ask one of the men to go ahead?"

"No, I think Watson and I will take a stroll across to them now, alone if you don't mind. I want to get – how can I put this without offending you? - an honest appraisal of your son's relationship with the Squire's son and daughter."

"No offence at all, Mr Holmes. What can I be doing in the meantime?"

"I suggest a call into the village, your Lordship. It may be, even now, that Trevose is on his way back having surprised us all by taking a walk there. After all, it is only to be expected that he is as upset about your son's disappearance as you are."


The walk to Otford Hall passed pleasantly enough. Holmes was not especially communicative, which Watson rightly interpreted as his being deep in thought. After the expected ten minutes, a gate on the lane opened onto a narrow drive between neatly trimmed hedges, which curved to the right so as to hide the house from view from the road.

Reaching the house, Watson reached to pull the bell chain, when a loud barking was heard and around the corner of the house and to their left, ran a large mastiff. The dog was almost upon them when they heard a whistle and it stopped in its tracks. A woman's voice rang out from a window above them, "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"We have come from Trethewan Court on a mission of importance!" replied Holmes. Moments later footsteps were heard coming to the door which opened to reveal a young woman in her mid twenties. She looked past them as if expecting to see a third person.

"You have found him?"

"Benjamin Falconer?" said Holmes. "No, I am afraid not. But it is indeed about that young man that we have come. You may have heard of me. I am Sherlock Holmes ...." He paused for a moment and was pleased to see that the mention of his name had the desired effect; ".. and this is my companion Doctor John Watson. May we come in?"

Without waiting for an answer he swept past her into the hallway, Watson following and making apologies at her. Holmes meanwhile turned to her.

"You are Miss Needham?"

"Elizabeth, yes. Do you wish to see my brother, he is around the grounds somewhere. I am sorry that our father is not here to see you."

"No, for the moment I wish to speak with you, Miss Needham. I need you to tell me whether the reports I have received are accurate." With that he proceeded to outline all the details that Lord Falconer had told us. Elizabeth nodded regularly.

"So that is accurate? You are sure?"

"Yes, it is as you say and have been told."

"This next question, then, is going to appear most impertinent, but please do me the honour of answering it honestly. Was there a troth between you and Benjamin Falconer?"

She looked shocked. "Oh, no, Mr Holmes, it was never like that. No, both Ashley and I were just happy to have someone of our own age around about."

"You had no – designs?"

"Mr Holmes, I know from your reputation that you have to ask these questions but please be assured that there was nothing between myself and Benjamin, just friendship."

"Do you think he knew that?"

"I told him that."

"Ah! Why did you need to do that unless he did indeed see you as other than a friend?"

"Because he told me he loved another and that he didn't want to break my heart. To which I told him that I did not feel about him in that manner in any event, so he could love another as he wished. It would not harm our friendship."

"When did this happen?"

"The night before he disappeared."

Holmes was clearly getting the information he wanted. "Do you know who the other lady was?"

"No, I do not, and I did not ask."

"Hmmm. Very well, I wonder, could you summon your brother, please?"

Whilst she was gone, Holmes quickly spoke to Watson. "So, there is another woman in the case, Watson! That was not entirely unexpected."

"How so? We know he has been kidnapped. I thought you were going to tell me – again - that he had eloped. I was just getting ready to tell you that you'd already done that one, yesterday back in Baker Street."

Holmes laughed ruefully. "No, but I have information that may help us. You recall yesterday, whilst you were out getting tickets for our journey, that I made some checks with Scotland Yard?"

"Of course."

"One of the items I asked our friends to catalogue was a list of the names of recently released prisoners. It is a routine starting point – find out if the crime fits a pattern which may be explained by such a release and return to practice."

"And..?"

"There were a few names of note, Watson. One sprang to my notice immediately. Nancy Monroe. The case last year involved the kidnapping of a child for the ransom of the family jewellery. I had a small part in apprehending her. She was released from Holloway Prison two weeks ago having served the rather menial sentence passed down on her."

"The timing is right, Holmes."

"Yes, indeed. It gives another strand to think about. Hush, here is the brother. Not a word of my proposal, now, Watson."

A young man, in his early twenties and clean shaven, had entered the hall, and invited them into the drawing room. He stubbed out the cigar he had been smoking in an ash tray, and extended his hand to Holmes and then Watson.

"Gentlemen, Ashley Needham. How can I help you?"

"Mr Needham, when was the last time you saw Benjamin Falconer? And in what situation did you leave him?"

"On the day of his disappearance, Mr Holmes. He had been down to the Castle earlier, and he called here for me and my sister at about two o'clock. He was in a state of excitement and wanted to show us something, what it was he would not elaborate. My sister was not here so I went with him. However, about half way on our journey he said he had forgotten something at his house, and would join me at the Castle shortly. I waited for over an hour but he did not return. I made my way back up to Trethewan Court to find no sign of him."

"So you must have been amongst the last people to see him before his disappearance?"

"I suspect so, yes."

"And you have any idea what it was that he went back for?"

"I noticed that he did not have his usual notebook with him. But he had already been to the Castle without it, so I doubt whether he would have made a special journey for it at the point when he did. He would have fetched it on his way to see me, surely."

Holmes pondered this information. "Perhaps, yes, but equally he may have deliberately not taken it earlier, and wanted you with him when he had it later in the day."

"Meaning..?"

"Did you see two strangers in the area around the time he went missing?"

"No, I did not. When I read the reports in the newspaper I thought it strange that I had seen no sign of such men."

"It seems to be the generally accepted proposal that Benjamin has been kidnapped, yes?"

Ashley Needham grew pale. "Yes. I hate to think what he is going through. And his father of course. I do trust that this can be resolved – that is why you are here of course? Your fame goes before you."

"Yes, that is why we are here. To see justice is done and the life of a young man spared."

The clock in the hallway struck one o'clock. Holmes looked to Watson. "It is time to go, Mr Needham. Thank you for your assistance. Please send my regards to your father."

"Most certainly, Mr Holmes. You are most welcome. Let me see you out. I'll call my sister, and we will see you as far as the river. Thus far will be on our route into the village, and we were intending on going there anyway, so we can walk together."

A few minutes later saw the four of them walking back down the lane, and down the hill towards where the road crossed the small brook on a single brick arch. The dog was running excitedly in front of them. As they crossed, a kingfisher darted past them, and Elizabeth gazed as it dipped across the quickly flowing water. Then she gasped. "Look! There!" She pointed upstream a little way. Under a large willow which hung over the water, a large bag or sack was caught in its roots as they broke through the bank in their search for water.

"Wait here, and hold the dog!" commanded Holmes. "Watson, with me!"

The two of them raced to the spot. Holmes waded into the shallow water to better gain access to the sack. It seemed larger than when they had first seen it, and indeed they noted it was caught in a hollow under the roots. It took a deal of hard and wet work to free it from its entrapment, and drag it onto the bank. There the two Needhams met them.

Holmes turned to Elizabeth. "I think you may not wish to see what is in here," he advised, and she moved away, returning to where the dog was tethered. Watson reached for his penknife and slit the sack open, revealing the body of an old man.

Ashley Needham fought the urge to be sick. "Trevose...."