Sherlock Holmes: Before Baker Street by David Marcum (books to read to be successful TXT) 📗

him here. There was trouble at his last parish. A woman tried to do away with herself because of the persecution he levelled at her. They would not have him after that. God forbid that it takes another tragedy to rid us of this troublesome incumbent. If you can disprove his talk of devils, we should have evidence to convince the bishop he is not suitable for Norton Deverill.’

“She took her basket and patted my arm in gratitude. ‘I have faith in you, Mr. Holmes. Do not fail us.’

“Having placed the burden on my shoulders, Mrs. Balfour went on her way. She received polite nods of acknowledgement from her neighbours, but they scuttled away at my approach. Doors were slammed as I passed and women averted their heads. Inside the church, it was all the warden could do to tell me that the vicar had departed several days ago and was not expected back until the evening.

“It was a forlorn hope to imagine that the affair would have a swift conclusion. I had resigned myself to spending Christmas at Deverill Grange and leaving thereafter. What little I had already learned left me in no doubt that the devils were of the vicar’s own invention. Without the co-operation of the villagers, however, I was left with theories and little else. I could accuse the man, but it would be my word against his, with precious chance of the word of an outsider being believed over that of a clergyman.

“On leaving the church, I observed a governess cart making its way down the street. Holding the reins was a darkly handsome woman in her early forties, with a strong profile and black hair touched at temples with the first hint of grey. Unlike me, she was not just shunned. I saw hatred in the eyes that beheld her and heard the muttered curses that followed her progress. Norton Deverill was truly a community divided. Why someone would choose to stay in face of such hostility was something I very much cared to find out.

“I had my chance to examine Lady Bulmer on her reasons that evening. The daughter, Maud, was everything Zeal had said: A rare beauty, and spirited. It was evident that Zeal had set his heart upon her, and I dare say that without the slurs levelled at the mother, he should have plighted his troth before now. Once she learned that I had come from London, she interrogated me thoroughly on the fashions, of the preparations for the festive season, and whether I had met the Queen.

“Lady Bulmer, resplendent in emerald silk and jet necklace, had said little, merely smiling in sympathy when her garrulous daughter made yet another call upon my time. When I tried to suggest that she turn her attention elsewhere by adding coughs to my answers, Lady Bulmer finally brought the girl to heel.

“‘You must forgive my daughter, Mr. Holmes,’ said she, patting the girl’s hand to both reassure and silence her. ‘Living here in this quiet backwater, I fear we hear so little of London. Maud is grateful of any news.’

“‘I shall visit one day, when I am married,’ her daughter declared.

“‘Hush, child,’ said her mother. The smile she turned on me was somewhat strained. ‘I cannot take her, Mr. Holmes. The air would be injurious to my health. Here, I can breathe. I have developed asthma after years of residing in cities, you see.’

“‘I am grieved to hear that, Lady Bulmer,’ I replied. ‘However, there must be other places where the air is not tainted.’

“She gazed at me, her keen violet eyes full of thought. ‘If you refer to the resentment of the villagers, then I must say that it bothers me not at all. In addition, Lord Zeal is most accommodating with regards to the rent. I am not a wealthy woman. My late husband, Sir Hector, had little at the end that quacks and charlatans had not bled from him with their promises of healing. In my situation, Mr. Holmes, beggars cannot be choosers. Norton Deverill suits my purpose for the time being.’

“‘Even so, one should practice caution. Lord Zeal has told me of the rumours of witchcraft. Was it wise to name your cottage so?’

“Zeal stared at us in confusion.

“‘Aeaea was on the island where lived the sorceress, Circe, in Ancient Greece,’ I explained to him. ‘She turned Odysseus’ men into pigs.’

“‘Pigs, you say?’ said Zeal, his interest suddenly piqued. ‘What breed?’

“‘It seemed appropriate,’ said Lady Bulmer, politely ignoring him. ‘I have come to regard the cottage as my island where I grow my herbs and tend my plants. They are essential to my well-being. I make my own medicines. My faith in doctors is somewhat lacking these days.’

“‘And your faith in clergymen?’

“A faint laugh escaped her. ‘Sorely tested, I fear. The vicar’s idea of piety is not mine. Maud rubbed along with him well enough until this business started, and now he has turned against us all. He makes the most preposterous allegations. Why, I have been accused of conjuring up the denizens of Hell. What do you say to that?’

“‘I should say it is improbable.’

“I caught the slight rise of her eyebrows. ‘But not impossible?’

“‘That depends on one’s definition of devils, Lady Bulmer. There is evil enough in men’s hearts without calling for assistance from Satan.’

“Perhaps you could convince the vicar,’ said Zeal. ‘He would have us believe demons shall soon be howling at our very doors.’

“At that moment – and somewhat to the surprise of the gathering, particularly Zeal, who threw his wine over me in startled alarm – came a fierce banging at the front door. I heard Taylor, who doubled as butler, coachman, and whatever other role needed fulfilling, shuffle into the hall and exchange words with the caller. Voices were raised, there came the sound of a scuffle and, the next