"I followed your lead, Sherlock," Lestrade says, "We've arrested the butler."
It is now evening and something about the case has been troubling me and only now do I understand everything. How could I have been so dim?
"You idiot!" I shout.
John is bouncing Rosie on his leg.
"I told you," he says, "It was the butler."
"We have to go immediately," I say jumping to my feet.
"We found the painting in the wallpaper in the butler's room, just like you said. I found out if he'd decorated his own room and then I joined the dots just like you knew I would. The painting was there Sherlock, Lord Grayson confirmed it."
"I bet he's related to Lenny Thaites, who coincidentally has been out of prison since yesterday," Watson says, "I checked."
"There's not a moment to lose, Lestrade, because of your initiative, you may have let a murderer free."
"Murderer? What are you talking about, Sherlock?" Watson asks.
"Colington, the old butler, died an hour ago. I've also done some checking. Hurry Lestrade," I say as I run out the door. I see John handing Rosie to Mrs Hudson. I barely register her tears. It can't be too late.
"We might still be on time, if we hurry."
"Where to?" Lestrade asks.
"To Chelsea of course. Where else?" I say.
I refuse to talk all the way there. Lestrade has the siren blazing.
"But we found the painting. He tried to feed us some story about being an actor but he has a criminal record. Fraud. We have our man, John," Lestrade says to Watson, "He's a recent hire. How much guiltier does he need to be?"
John Watson doesn't speak but in his silence I can hear the doubts. Have I finally lost it? Has the Eurus affair and the truth about Redbeard finally broken me? For the first time, I'm beginning to doubt myself too.
The iron gates are wide open as we arrive. There's a limousine in the driveway. I jump out of the car. We've just made it. Justice might still be served.
Lucy Thompson and Lord Grayson are in the car. They both step out. I suddenly feel cold. I pull up my coat higher, I don't know if I still have the stomach for this. I feel like I have some sort of bug. I never get ill but I can feel the butterflies in my belly. I just want to be home. I can't wait to see Molly Hooper and to hear Mrs Hudson chattering to Rosie. It's time for the truth.
"You nearly got away with it. Very nearly. Your plan was ingenious and thanks to Greg here, you very nearly made it."
Watson and Lestrade are looking at each other. The other police cars are just arriving. There can be no escape. I am never wrong but the death of Mary Watson has proved that I am not infallible. Mary would still be alive and Veronica Norbury would be in prison only for treason and not also for murder.
"You managed to get Colington out of the way so you could hire a new butler, one who had more than a passing resemblance to Lenny Thaites. The butler said he was an actor, I did my research, I know it's true. I had my suspicions after watching him pour, John's tea. No real butler ever spills a drop. If he wasn't really a butler, what was he doing here? Anyone who saw him would make the conclusion Watson made that they are related. If they dug deeper into him, they would find out he had a criminal record. He isn't related to Lenny Thaites as the DNA tests will prove once they get here. Someone else is related to Lenny. Someone who is responsible for hiring all the staff that work here. Isn't that right, Lucy Thompson, or to call you by your real name, Lucinda Thaites."
Lucy has lost colour, she sways on legs, like she's going to faint. John reaches her just in time and stops her from falling.
"Lucy?" Lord Grayson says, his mouth gaping open, "Lucy did this."
Greg Lestrade looks back at me and pats me on the back.
"No." I say, "Lucy didn't do any of this. Why would she hide the painting in the butler's room knowing it would be found? Why would she hire someone who looks like her brother after the lengths she has gone to hide her past? A devious mind is behind this. Lestrade, get your gun and point it at Lord Grayson. Lucy step away from him, John hold her please."
After Veronica Norbury, I will not take any more chances.
"Lucinda Thaites changed her name and her looks after Lenny was arrested. She found a job as your father's secretary. She was happy. When you arrived from America, you owed money to very dangerous people. I have friends in the Pinkertons. You are the one who turned this place into Fort Knox, all the changes in security were your idea. When I hinted at an enemy you thought, I had guessed, so violent was your reaction but you hid it well. You nudged Lucy towards Jameson, making sure she thought he was her choice. You made sure I saw the butler, so that like Watson, I would make the connection between him and Lenny Thaites, who you know I caught. You had DNA tests done on all your staff and you found out like we did that Lucinda was Lenny's sister. All the blame would fall on her. She hired her brother's doppelganger, stole the painting and framed him. No one would believe her to be innocent especially with Lenny out of prison. The timing was no coincidence, ever since you found out the truth about Lucy, you've been waiting for Lenny's release, he was key to this deception. You would eventually tell the police that the painting we found was a fake. They would assume that Lucy got it to her brother somehow and he sold it. You would get the insurance money."
"I suppose you can prove all of this Mr Holmes," he said folding his arms across his chest, "Why would I go to all this trouble."
"Because your painting is a fake, Lord Grayson. You sold the actual painting nearly a year ago to a Private Collector. Don't look so surprised I have many connections in the underworld too. You paid your debts, the Pinkertons' agent in L.A. confirmed that already. But the fear you showed yesterday proved to me that your addiction to gambling runs deep. You lost the money you made and now you owe some very dangerous people even more money. When you said that painting is your future, you were being quite literal. No one knew that you'd sold the original. All you needed was a fake and a very devious mind, and the insurance would pay out. The only problem was how to get rid of Colington. If you had sent him on a holiday somewhere and hired an actor, you may well have gotten away with it. Firing him after so many years of service would have been suspicious and I have an inkling he refused to take early retirement. Colington died today, Lord Grayson. And knowing the reach your enemies have, even in prison you will not be safe. I speak for the downtrodden. If not for the murder I may have fallen into the trap you had set for Lucy. Good day to you."
I turn away from him. Lucy is sobbing in John's arms. Greg claps a pair of handcuffs on Lord Grayson's wrists. Everything I said is verifiable, from hiring the actor to his many debts. He will not escape the law. I walk out of the gardens and hire a cab. John Watson might not be home tonight, he needs the comfort as much as Lucy does, and there's nowhere I'd rather be than 221B Baker Street.