Chapter 5: Bonds of London
It was late in the afternoon, and the daylight was already getting dim before we reached the new Bonds of London confectionery shop. We stepped in quickly, as the rain was coming down harder, and the cold was becoming more uncomfortable for me. After hours out in the cold, damp air, my wounds were acting up. The shop was quite crowded, as people coming home from their day's work were stepping in for a treat to go with their tea.
"Well Watson, this looks impressive," said Holmes. "I can see that the publicity is true. They seem to have just about everything." It soon became obvious that getting a significant amount of attention from anyone, especially a manager or supervisor of staff, was going to be a problem. I was a bit daunted by the prospect, but Holmes clearly had no such difficulties. He looked around for the most senior looking staff member, politely excused himself, quietly explained why we had come, and asked to see the manager or a ranking supervisor. The man smiled and asked Holmes to wait until he had finished serving his current customer. When the man was done, he stepped through a back door and returned shortly saying, "Mr. Coswell will be with you shortly."
In a few minutes, a portly short man wearing a suit more appropriate for a butler in a well-established household and a white apron with the word "Bonds'" written across it came out of the back. He clearly recognized Holmes and looked a little awestruck to be meeting the great detective in any form of official capacity. "Mr. Holmes, I am Phillip Coswell. It's an honor to meet you. How can I be of service?" As I stepped forward, Mr. Coswell smiled and said, "You must be Doctor Watson, Sir, it's an honor. I've read all your stories in The Strand - never miss any of them. I read them to my wife Kathy and the children." I greeted the man warmly and exchanged a few pleasantries with him. I could see that Holmes was impatient, but Holmes had gradually come to accept that social niceties, and sometimes a bit of discussion about my stories, could pave the way to more cooperation from witnesses and potential sources. Thus, it proved in this case.
After a few minutes of small talk Holmes began, "Mr. Coswell, we are here helping Scotland Yard to investigate the death of one of your employees, Miss Clara Higby. We have some questions for you, and possibly some of your staff regarding her recent circumstances. Anything you will be able to tell us will be greatly appreciated."
Mr. Coswell immediately became quite serious and somber. "I was afraid that's what you were here to discuss, Mr. Holmes. We are all shocked and grieved, especially the young counter attendants. Clara was not here long, but she was outgoing , well liked, quick, and good at her job. Anything I or we can do to help, I'm sure everyone would be happy to help as they can."
Homes produced the shabby brown reticule. "First, I need to get a positive identification of this reticule. Do you, or perhaps any of your staff recognize it as belonging to miss Higby?"
Mr. Coswell said that he could not vouch for it but then considered a moment. "Wendy Perkins perhaps knew her best. She is attending a customer, but I will have her speak to you momentarily." He went across the large shop space and spoke a few words to the young woman on the far end of one of the counters. A minute later we were joined by a tall, brown-haired woman with a timid smile and a shy nervous demeanor. Mr. Coswell then invited us to step into the backroom away from all the customers, so that we could speak more candidly. "Miss Perkins, this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes and his colleague Doctor Watson. They are here looking into the death of our poor Clara. They have some questions for you. Anything you can tell them will be extremely helpful, I'm sure."
Miss Perkins looked afraid and taken aback at both meeting a famous detective, and being asked to speak of a fresh and sensitive topic. She paled visibly and looked momentarily shaky on her feet. I stepped in, taking a few moments to reassure her, and advising that she sit down before continuing. She gratefully accepted my soothing words of assurance, and the offer of a seat. I decided to begin with words of condolence and sympathy. Holmes, seeing her startled and shaken state was wise enough to step back and let me take the lead. "First Miss Perkins, both Mr. Holmes and I would like to offer our deepest sympathies at the loss of your colleague. Mr. Coswell tells us that you were her friend, so her death must be difficult for you." At this the poor girl shrank into herself, and closed her eyes breathing deeply, then visibly shuddered. "Would you like a glass of water perhaps?" I asked. Mr. Coswell stepped away to get her a mug of water, no glass being to hand. Holmes eyed her keenly as she drank and gradually pulled herself together.
"Thank you Doctor, Mr. Holmes. You are both very kind. It's been a terrible shock. Terrible, simply terrible. Truthfully, I hardly know what to think of it. None of us do, in fact. So sudden and... violent. Ugly!" She paused again, still fighting to collect herself. "Mr. Holmes, Doctor, do you know what happened and why? All we know is she was hit by a train, which none of us can believe. Clara was alert, fit, and quick - not someone who would stumble, fumble, or fall without cause. Nothing makes sense, nothing at all." She stared at us, looking between us with grief-stricken, haunted eyes.
I decided to keep directing the conversation, considering the girl's fragile state. "First, we were hoping you could identify this reticule. Do you know if it is Clara's?" Holmes came forward and gently offered the plain brown object to Miss Perkins for her inspection. Miss Perkins gasped and took the little case with a trembling hand. "Oh, yes! This is Clara's to be sure. She called it her 'silly sack.'" Miss Perkins turned the reticule over in her hands, and then wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.
Holmes broke the silence. "Like you we are trying to understand what happened, because, as you say, nothing makes sense. What can you tell us about her last day of work? Was anything wrong or unusual? Was there someone in her life? Anything odd or difficult in her personal affairs? We are hoping you can provide a greater understanding of her situation. Anything at all, no matter how trivial, about her work or life, may help us."
"Her last day was just like any other, Mr. Holmes, Sir. She seemed a bit distant and distracted, but she had been like that for a few days. She told me she was not sleeping as well as she ought, and she was getting headaches. But it did not alter her work none. She was an experienced shop girl, you see. The crowds and the rush was, 'every typical Monday' as she called our busy times. She loved the work and felt it was the best possible thing. Clara told me, 'Wendy, the ways I see it is like this, we are paid to sell people something that makes them happy, that makes them smile. You know, deep down they're all just grown-up little tikes.' She was like that; she loved making them all happy, especially the little ones when they came in. She just thought the children were the best ever." Miss Perkins paused and smiled wistfully.
"Do you have any idea why Miss Higby was distracted? Was anything possibly wrong?" Homes pressed.
"Except for the sleep and the headaches, no, sir. If I was to guess, I would say that even though she had experience, she still might have been wondering if she was good enough. She wanted to do her best. She wanted to be liked. She was still a bit worried being new and all. But then, we are all new in our way. The shop is a sensation, but it has been open none too long. People are just getting to know us. Still, I don't think Clara saw it that way."
"Mr. Holmes, I can assure you she had nothing to worry about. Clara was an asset, one of our best," said Mr. Coswell.
"Miss Perkins, what do you know of her personal life her family, friends, or other circumstances?" asked Holmes.
"She lived alone in a rooming house, a place on or near Blackwell's, 'Mrs. Robinson's Rooms for Discerning Young Ladies.' It was a bit more than she was comfortable with, the cost, but she got breakfast and a good dinner every night. It probably cost her less over time and she knew it. She was just committed to saving as much of her pay as possible. I know she grew up poor, and sometimes there wasn't enough. You know how such things are. She didn't want that for herself. I believe she sometimes sent money back to her mum, her daddy being dead of consumption more than three years. Her mum also takes in borders, and Mrs. Robinson knows it. Clara sometimes helped Mrs. Robinson, and was right useful too, so I know she got along with her landlady."
"We'll be visiting Mrs. Robinson soon," said Holmes. "Do you know if she recently had seen a doctor, or was taking any pills for her headaches or any other ailment?"
"Not that I know of, but it would not surprise me none, sir. She told me she was going to be taking steps to sleep better and to take care of the headaches. She did not have a lot of money, but she had enough for emergencies, and I know she did not like feeling poorly. Some folks just stew and suffer. That was not like Clara. 'Life's too short for doing nothing or feeling sorry for yourself,' is what she once said to me, last week I think it was." She paused, lost in thought for a moment. "She was a good girl, a right good sort. She was happy and seemed like she had a plan for herself. She was going somewhere, Mr. Holmes. I can't believe she just fell under a train, and I absolutely refuse to believe she did herself in!"
Holmes stopped to consider additional questions. "Do you know if she had a beau? What did she do in her free time?"
"She didn't have anyone special. I believe there was a man, once, but he didn't treat her right. She was not a girl to settle for that. She wanted better. I know she visited the library often enough, and was always reading. She sometimes played a piano at the boarding house, or played games with the other boarders, as I believe they were all young working girls close enough to the same age."
When Miss Perkins was done, Holmes looked at me. He clearly wanted to know if I had anything else to ask. I shook my head slightly.
"Miss Perkins, I believe you've answered all the questions we had. You have been a great help indeed. Thank you for your time. I know this was very difficult for you, exceedingly difficult for you both," Holmes said, looking at Mr. Coswell. "Miss Clara Higby obviously was a wonderful young woman, indeed. My sincere condolences again to you both." Holmes and I both shook their hands. I offered my own words of thanks, and sympathy, and followed Holmes out of the office and into the store.
"Holmes, we really should buy some sweets, chocolate, or something," I whispered. He smiled, "I won't say, 'No,' and you certainly won't turn down a treat. Besides, there's Mrs. Hudson to consider." We separated and wandered through the store looking at the wide selection of tempting sweets. I bought an assortment of peppermint and lemon-flavored sweets, and indulged in a selection of chocolates and fudge, taking guidance from a charming red-haired beauty. Holmes also bought peppermints and some cherry flavored humbugs. Both of us bought tidbits for Mrs. Hudson, and we left without doing too much financial damage to ourselves.
Holmes was first to the street and he hailed a hansom. Full dark was now upon us, and the rain had stopped. "Where to now, Holmes?" I asked. Holmes considered, and then sighed. "The nearest telegraph office," he said to the cabbie. The trip wasn't far. In less than one half mile the cabbie pulled over. "Please wait, this will only take a few minutes," Holmes instructed the man and leaped out. Holmes was true to his word and was soon back, giving directions for the cabbie to take us back to Baker Street.
"What were the telegraphs, or was there only one?"
"Two, Watson. One was to Mrs. Robinson advising her that I would be dropping in to talk to her and her boarders first thing in the morning, before the house scatters for the day. I also hope to inspect Miss Higby's room as soon as possible. I want to wait until daylight, but there can be no other delays. The Yard left instructions not to disturb or pack her belongings, but that can only last so long. I am sure the good Mrs. Robinson will want to rent that room soon enough, favored boarder or not."
"Will you be wanting me along Holmes?"
"It is not necessary, my friend. You have put your medical affairs on hold long enough, and I thank you. Your help was invaluable as it always is. I will be needing your help often enough before this case is done, I'm afraid." He paused, then asked, "Your thoughts on the day?"
"I am an experienced doctor and soldier, but even for me this day was hard. That poor woman, hardly more than a child, was utterly destroyed. It's not entirely surprising considering what happens when a human being meets a train at speed. But, to see her that way, and then to spend hours in uncomfortable weather looking for any clue at all, and finally to talk so intimately with someone who knew her and cared for her - who is grieving. It's ghastly Holmes! Obscene even!"
"Ah Watson, as always you are the wordsmith, and rightfully so. We know each other well by now. I believe you understand that I am not unfeeling. Much as I firmly believe in setting emotions aside during an investigation. May God help and forgive me if I ever get to the point where such events and experiences leave me devoid of feeling. What I bring to the table are my skills and experience. We owe Miss Higby, Miss Wright, Miss Patterson, Miss Cohen, and Miss O'Donnell. They're all gone - lost but not forgotten. I will not forget Watson! Something terrible and vile is afoot and I will find it even if it takes months. This may well be one of the most difficult cases I have ever taken on, but I will not let these deaths be buried under a pile of bureaucracy and indifference."
"I will stand with you Holmes, all the way. I will gladly do whatever you need me to do. These deaths, and the families and friends, they all deserve answers. I think we both know this will be a long one. I hope our young sergeant knows it too, and that he's got the stamina for it. Lord knows we need more data, useful information that can take us forward. There's got to be more connections linking all these events together. It will take more than just the three of us, I believe, to crack this."
"Thank you, my friend. I know I can count on you always. I agree this is going to test Sergeant Thomas, but he is up for it, if I read our man correctly. He's got a great career ahead of him. Success in this case will catapult him to senior and highly visible attention. Rest assured, he is worthy, but I also think he will be earning his laurels the hard way."
"So, any clear directions so far Holmes?"
"Watson, you know better, I know you do. It's far too early, and more to the point there's simply not nearly enough data to work with." He took a long pause. I sat waiting, knowing he was deep in thought. "In fairness, Watson, I believe I can now state with some confidence that at least some of these deaths are related - although I can't say all of them are just yet. I feel confident enough to at least direct Thomas and other Yarders to investigate all these deaths for any odd pills found with each victim. I usually do not draw such lines in the sand without more to go on, but current circumstances require an exception at least tentatively."
After another long pause he said, "If only I had become involved sooner! Things might be quite different."
He said no more of the rest of the ride home to some well-deserved warmth, and a good dinner. We both ate heartily, which was odd for Holmes, as he usually ate sparingly when buried deep in the intricacies of a case. Still, it had been a long, cold, difficult day. We both needed the strength and comfort good food from Mrs. Hudson would provide. By unspoken mutual agreement we spoke no more of Miss Higby, or any other element of the case for the rest of the evening. I was thankful that Holmes played gentle music on his violin for over an hour before we both went to our beds.
Author's Note: Bonds of London is a large, well known Confectionary, one of the biggest in the UK, known all over the world. They really did open in 1895, but I have been unable to verify the actual date they opened their doors for the first time. I therefore took some liberties with the time and date.