Prompt from Wordwielder – Inconvenience

The Case of the Inconvenienced Lady

It was in December of 1889 I received a message at my practice from Sherlock Holmes. I had not seen my old friend in some weeks and I was pleased to have word of him.

Watson, the note read.

I require a friend of great discretion. Meet me in my rooms at 8:00 tomorrow morning. Come ready to travel. Will return to London by late afternoon.

Holmes

Typical of my friend, he gave no explanation and little enough time to prepare. Immediately I sent round to Anstruther who was always ready to take my practice for a day. Fortunately, I had few visits to make and only one scheduled appointment.

Mary, when I told her of Holmes' request that evening, was quite understanding. I felt more than usually fortunate to have found such a good wife.

"Of course you must go, John," she said with a smile. "Besides, I think it would do you good."

The next morning Mrs. Hudson greeted me with a smile and ushered me up stairs. Holmes answered the door and since I had arrived early, he invited me in to share his coffee.

"So what's up, Holmes?" I asked after Mrs. Hudson had retreated.

"Scandal," said he and sipped from his cup. "Scandal and intrigue, Watson. A dirty business if I have ever seen one."

"In your note you said we would be back this afternoon," I said. "I can only assume you have solved the case."

"Indeed," he said. "I have still to put it together, though."

"It's solved but you have not put it together? I don't understand Holmes."

"You will, Watson, only let me think on it while we travel," said Holmes. "It is a delicate business involving a young man's honor and the happiness of a young lady."

"I see, a little," I said. "I now understand why you said you needed a discrete friend. Who are these young people?"

"Captain Jerimiah Wilcox and his fiancé Miss Annette Blackburne," he told me, checking his watch. "It is time to catch our train, Watson."

"Wilcox?" I asked, rising. "The brevet captain rumored to have cheated at cards?"

"The very one, Watson. Gather your coat and hat."

I had heard the rumors at my club. Many members were retired soldiers and most of us remained in contact with old friends who were still in the army. Rumors of this young brevet captain had spread about him cheating at cards. Other rumors were circulating about large sums deposited in his accounts for which he had no explanation. And one rumor stated he had bribed the late Major Michael Taylor to promote him from ensign to lieutenant while he was serving in India. If any of these were proved true the young officer's reputation would be destroyed and his career would end.

Once seated in our first class carriage with door shut tight I implored Holmes to tell me what he knew.

"As I told you earlier, Watson," said he. "I am still putting it together. I need time to think."

"But, Holmes," I protested. "You cannot leave me guessing like this."

"Very well," he sighed and fixed me with his gaze. "Soon after the rumors began Mrs. Cynthia Blackburne, the mother of Miss Annette Blackburne, came to me and asked me to investigate her prospective son-in-law. She told me that she did not believe the rumors were true, for she had known the young man's parents years ago and had known him as a boy. She said if the rumors proved to be true, she would denounce Wilcox and forbid her daughter to marry him. If they were not true, she wanted to know who was behind them."

"And are the rumors true, Holmes?" I asked.

"Not in the least, save one," he replied and took out his pipe.

"Which one?" I asked. "The cards?"

"No," said Holmes. "Wilcox had won considerable sums at the tables, but he had also lost quite often. On balance I have to say the possibility that he was cheating is remote. I have other evidence to explain those rumors."

"Then it must be the rumor about the bribery," I said.

"That was far more difficult to refute," Holmes replied with an impatient look. "Major Taylor died last year in a rockslide while hunting. No one could ask him the reason he promoted Wilcox so soon after the young man arrived in India. However, there were several officer vacancies and Wilcox quickly proved his capability. It is not a stretch to assume the major promoted him out of convenience."

"Then which is it?" I asked.

"Young Wilcox cannot explain certain deposits in his bank account," Holmes said. "He told me that he first became aware of them four months ago. They were not substantial sums and he believed at that time they were merely clerical errors. As month followed month, the sums increased. The latest one was five hundred pounds."

"Five hundred?" I said surprised.

"I explored the possibility that Wilcox was blackmailing someone." Holmes lit a match and puffed his pipe to life.

"Is he?" I asked, concerned.

"No," Holmes said, sending a cloud of blue-grey tobacco smoke into the air. "I have looked into his past quite thoroughly, Watson, and I have looked into his friends and associates. His fellow officers, until these rumors, found him to be a solid, reliable and conscientious soldier with a bright career ahead of him. He was certainly looking to be confirmed captain. His service in India was a great credit to him as a man and to his regiment. Aside from the deposits, I could find no indication whatever that he had ever blackmailed anyone. And there I finally had my first solid link in a chain of evidence that lead me to ask for your help yesterday."

"What link, Holmes?"

"The deposits, Watson," he said with a satisfied smile. "More accurately, it was the time the deposits were being made. The bank keeps a detailed record of when one of their customers makes a deposit or a withdrawal. Not only is the date recorded, but the time of day as well. Out of the sixteen deposits, Wilcox could not possibly have made fourteen of them. Either his duties would have prevented him from going to his bank at the time the deposit was made or he was in the company of friends who can place him elsewhere at the time."

"And the remaining two times?" I asked.

"Are of little importance in my investigation when stacked against the others," said Holmes. "However, I believed him when he told me he had not made those two. He was apparently alone in his quarters both times."

"I see," I said and took out my own pipe. "So who made the deposits? Why were they made? Presumably it was someone with great wealth."

"I agree," he said and gazed out the window. "And that troubled me for several days, for I could forge no connection. Like all men Captain Wilcox has made a few enemies over the years. I'm afraid he is such an affable soul, however, he overlooked two. And there was one he could never have seen, for that enemy has remained in the shadows since before he was even born."

"That sounds very dark and ominous, Holmes," I observed.

"It is," he agreed. "I have one more link to forge to close the case. I don't think I will need it to end these rumors, but it would be better to have it. Now, dear fellow, allow me to think. We will be in Trumpington very soon."

So I possessed myself in silence and waited. Holmes sat opposite me, smoking his pipe and gazing out of the window, though I am sure he did not see the countryside passing by. When we arrived in Trumpington, Holmes hired a trap and we drove out to a large manor on a wooded estate. I recognized the seal over the gate as we passed under it.

"This is the home of Sir Arthur Helm, Holmes," I said, surprised. "What are we doing here?"

"Paying a visit to Lady Elizabeth Helm," he explained coolly.

"Lady Elizabeth?"

"Remember the deposits, Watson," said he. "And the reason you are here."

Taking that as a warning to stay closemouthed, I went silent. It serves no man who calls himself a gentleman to rake scandal.

At the end of the drive a young footman stepped up to help us down from the trap and I noticed Holmes narrow his eyes at the man. A very slight twitch at the corner of his mouth made me think something significant had just taken place, but I had no notion what it could have been.

We climbed the steps up to the portico and crossed it to the large front door. Holmes knocked and when it opened, presented the butler his card and a letter of introduction from Mrs. Amelia Wilcox. We were subsequently ushered into a large parlor. All about was evidence of wealth and refinement. From the polished grand piano down to the smallest objet d'art, good taste and fine quality were on display. So much so, that I felt quite humble and uncomfortable in the room. Holmes took it all in with his customary calm and detachment.

Several minutes passed before the parlor door opened and a stunning woman entered. Hair as black and shining as a raven's wing was drawn up in the latest French style. Her dress, though of simple cut, was made of fine Indian silk. Her face and form could have belonged to a woman much younger than the thirty-eight years I knew her to be. Lady Elizabeth was breath taking.

"Mrs. Wilcox evidently thinks I can be of some assistance to you, Mr. Holmes," Lady Elizabeth said without preamble. "What is it that brings you here?"

"Good morning, Lady Elizabeth," said Holmes, apparently ignoring her question. "As you have guessed, I am Sherlock Holmes. Allow me to introduce my associate, Dr. Watson."

"Yes. How do you do," she replied, her expression showing some impatience. "This is a very inconvenient time for me, gentlemen."

"I will take as little time as possible, madam," said Holmes, giving her a perfunctory smile. I felt somewhat scandalized by Holmes' attitude, but kept silent as he proceeded. "We come with the intent to right a wrong. To see to it that a young man's reputation is restored."

"And what have I to do with it?" she asked as if she had better things to do.

"I believe you can stop certain rumors, madam," Holmes said bluntly.

"I'll have my butler show you out, gentlemen," Lady Elizabeth said and made to turn away.

"If you do, there will be no reason for me to save you," Holmes said.

I wasn't certain what he meant, but Lady Elizabeth stopped as still as a statue for a heartbeat.

"I know everything," Holmes said.

She turned back and leveled a cold, angry gaze upon my friend, but her face smoothed out and she asked, "What do you know, Mr. Holmes?"

"I know that many years ago you were very much in love with a man who did not love you," said Holmes. "Lieutenant Frederick Wilcox, now Colonel Wilcox, loved your dearest friend, and married her. The two of you had a falling out."

"That's years ago, Mr. Holmes," Lady Elizabeth laughed. "We made up before her wedding. I was her maid of honor! A girlish squabble long since forgotten."

"Forgotten?" Holmes asked with the thinnest of smiles. "Not by you, I think, madam."

"Do you?" she chuckled, but I heard something brittle in it.

"I think you never forgave Mrs. Wilcox for marrying the man you wanted," he said evenly. "I think you never forgave either of them. What's more, I think you never forgave Anthony Blackburne for withdrawing his proposal the following year. And I think, when their children became engaged, you saw an opportunity to hurt them all. To destroy their happiness the way yours had been destroyed."

Lady Elizabeth just stared at Holmes, expressionless.

"You saw the opportunity, but you needed tools to get it done," Holmes went on. "You found them in the 12th Light Dragoons, Captain Wilcox's regiment."

"He's a brevet captain," said Lady Elizabeth. I blinked at the cold tone. How could it have come from so delicate a woman?

"Brevet, yes, but soon to be confirmed," Holmes pressed on. "Another opportunity to hurt him. Damage his reputation and his promotion might never materialize. It would be like snatching a promised toy away from a child just as their fingers touch it. Cruel. And petty."

Lady Elizabeth crossed to the mantelpiece, took a cigarette from a black ivory case and placed it in a long, slim holder. She struck a match and began to smoke, her eyes on the fire.

"You needed tools," Holmes repeated. "The first was Roger Aaron Dorn, formerly Ensign Dorn. You discovered he had served with Captain Wilcox in India. During a polo match Dorn was severely injured. Wilcox had been too aggressive in the press and Dorn's horse fell. His leg was broken near the hip. As a cavalry officer Dorn's career was all but ended then and there. When it was determined he would never again be able to walk without the aid of a cane, Dorn was medically discharged. He blamed Wilcox.

"Your second tool was Lieutenant Alfred Newbank," Holmes said. "He had been next in line to be promoted captain until Wilcox overtook him. Worse still, Newbank had courted Miss Annette Blackburne for more than a year. Their relationship ended shortly after Annette met Wilcox at the Officer's Summer Ball. Newbank hates Wilcox, though he makes a great show of being his friend."

"And what are these men supposed to have done?" Lady Elizabeth demanded, a little louder than was necessary.

"Mr. Dorn began to hint that Wilcox had somehow bribed the late Major Taylor to promote him lieutenant," Holmes said just as loudly. "A preposterous notion. I made inquiry, madam. I have affidavits from three officers stating no such bribe could have taken place. Wilcox did not meet the major until after the promotion was issued."

"And the other?" she demanded.

"More insidious," purred Holmes. "Newbank, the supposed friend, hinted that he was being cheated at cards by Wilcox. Whenever Captain Wilcox won a hand, Newbank whispered. If Wilcox ended an evening with more money than he began it, Newbank whispered. Soon others began to whisper, and the rumor spread."

"You tell an interesting story, Mr. Holmes, but I see no evidence to link me to either of these men," Lady Elizabeth said and turned to face us. "I believe you have inconvenienced me long enough."

"I will inconvenience you for a few minutes more, Lady Elizabeth," Holmes said. "There was one more tool you used and now I will appropriate it to use as a lever. I have two bank clerks who can and will swear under oath that your footman, in the uniform of a captain of the 12th Light Dragoons, made sixteen deposits into Captain Wilcox's account over the last four months. I am certain, under questioning, your footman will confess and implicate you."

Lady Elizabeth blanched, but she firmed her jaw and advanced on Holmes, stopping an arm's length from him.

"My husband is a very influential man, Mr. Holmes."

"My brother has the ear of the Queen, madam," Holmes returned calmly. "It is in your power to end this. Restore Captain Wilcox's reputation. Convince your tools to stop the rumors. End this, Lady Elizabeth, and I swear you will hear no more of Sherlock Holmes. Continue and you will lose everything."

I confess, when Holmes and I left the estate I felt a great weight off my shoulders. The cold December air tasted fresher than it had that morning and the sun shone brighter. For his part, Holmes was quietly pleased with himself. He refused to say any more about the case, but he was perfectly willing to talk about music and a production of Shakespeare he was looking forward to. He made me promise to convince Mary to accompany the two of us to the opening night for which he had box seats reserved. We parted at the train station and I returned home in time to have supper with Mary, and good woman that she is, she did not press me for any details.

The following May I read of the marriage of Miss Annette Blackburne to Captain Jerimiah Wilcox of the 12th Light Dragoons and wished them well.

AN: Thanks to MrsP for remembering the name of a good locum.