The Three Locks by Bonnie MacBird (books for 8th graders .TXT) 📗

Pickering stood over him, holding another chain and set of locks, apparently in the hope of figuring out where to add these to the pitiful mess before him. Constable Palmer entered with apparent reluctance, carrying a long white rag.

‘Gag him,’ said Pickering.

‘Sir?’ Palmer looked at the sergeant dubiously.

‘‘I think not,’ said Holmes sharply. ‘Do you think I’m going to undo these locks with my teeth, Pickering?’

‘Do it.’

Palmer hesitated.

‘Mr Holmes just nearly drowned.’ I said. ‘He is still recovering.’

‘I don’t care,’ said Pickering.

‘It is highly unusual, Sergeant,’ the younger fellow stammered, his decency getting the better of him.

Just then Hadley entered the anteroom. Pickering dropped an ounce or two of swagger at the sight of his superior.

Hadley took in the ridiculous sight and frowned. ‘Pickering, what’s the meaning of this?’

‘Well, we don’t want him escaping again, do we, sir? I assure you, he will not be picking any locks this time.’

‘Where did you get that straitjacket?’

‘From the sanatorium. When we delivered Miss Atalanta yesterday.’

Her family had had Atalanta committed to an institution! A sharp pain in my leg reminded me of the reason. Dr Macready must have reported the incident, and perhaps Eden-Summers as well. But a sanatorium! I thought I must look into this later.

Hadley, too, had the decency to be outraged. ‘You managed to ask for an extra straitjacket? Sergeant, what on earth were you thinking? This is a gaol, not an asylum.’

‘I was thinking ahead, of exactly this situation, sir. We have occasional unruly prisoners. Remember Willoughby last month – Palmer’s broken finger?’ He nodded fiercely at Palmer, who reluctantly held up his little finger, which bent sideways at an odd angle.

Pickering glanced down at Holmes and smiled. This was not lost on Hadley.

‘Outside, Pickering, now!’ he ordered. ‘Palmer, you too.’

Pickering and the younger man left, leaving only Hadley and myself with Holmes. Hadley closed the door of the anteroom, which led to the rest of the station, and sat in a chair facing the cell. He eyed my friend wearily and shook his head. ‘What a morning! You have made this extremely difficult for me, Mr Holmes. Your escape last time was reported to the Wyndhams, and the University has become involved, naming you as a dangerous threat. A great deal of pressure is being brought to bear on the police regarding you.’

‘Mr Hadley,’ said Holmes reasonably, ‘I know that it appears that Deacon Buttons murdered Miss Wyndham, but when you know all, you will agree that it is not quite sewn up. I believe I am very near to closing this case for you and need only a short time more to finish my investigation. I have given some details to Constable Wright which I have asked him to check for me at the rectory just now, but it would be best if you allowed me to complete the investigation.’

‘You are bound by law to report all your findings to me, Mr Holmes.’

‘Bound by law is an understatement in this case,’ said Holmes wryly. ‘Release me, and I will deliver Miss Wyndham’s murderer to you.’

‘You have tied my own hands, Mr Holmes – to continue the metaphor,’ said Hadley. ‘But I don’t mean to be flippant. We have the two main suspects in hand now. Both had reason to kill the girl. Good reason. With Buttons’ attempted suicide, I am afraid he slants the case towards himself.’

‘You mean three suspects? You also have Frederick Eden-Summers and Leo Vitale?’ asked Holmes. ‘Three men were in love with the girl.’

‘We have eliminated Eden-Summers for the moment. I will admit his alibi is weak. Most of the card-playing fellows he named as witnesses were inebriated during the hours in question. However, the sheer number of them who came forward weights the case in favour of his innocence. We have remanded him to his parents’ estate.’

‘Surely Eden-Summers is the most motivated of the three!’ Holmes said. ‘Miss Wyndham publicly announced her engagement to him, then became engaged to a second young man, and pawned both rings.’

I was surprised at this. I thought that Buttons had been confirmed in Holmes’s mind as the killer, or at least that our recent discoveries had moved the deacon into first position among the suspects.

‘And,’ said Holmes, ‘Mr Eden-Summers apparently found out about that second engagement the night of Dillie’s murder. Leo Vitale paid him a visit at his lodgings. Don’t you find that sufficient to keep him in the running?’

‘You have spoken to Mr Eden-Summers, then?’

‘I have spoken to all three of her young men,’ said Holmes.

Hadley’s eyebrows lifted, but to his credit he took this in his stride. ‘My impression from Mr Eden-Summers was that this was a marriage more of convenience than of love. His family desired closer University ties for political reasons which elude me,’ said Hadley.

This would explain Eden-Summers’ slightly odd response to the news of Dillie’s death, I thought.

‘The pawning of the rings, however, casts a new light,’ continued Hadley, thoughtfully.

‘Of course, Miss Wyndham also accepted Leo Vitale’s ring and proposal,’ I offered. Holmes shot me a look of reproach. I wondered if he didn’t harbour an unusual bias towards the young scientist.

‘We know that, Dr Watson,’ said Hadley, smoothing his reddish moustache. ‘I arrested him on the basis of his shouted fight with the deceased on the night of her murder, apparently all about this ring. It was heard by several in the street near the Cross and Anchor – where, incidentally the girl had been hiding out.’

‘Yes, yes, Vitale is not beyond suspicion,’ agreed Holmes, ‘but I would not have let Eden-Summers off so quickly.’

Hadley looked uneasy at the thought. It struck me how odd it was that the Cambridge policeman was allowing the case to be led by a prisoner in his own gaol.

‘I feel certain that Eden-Summers will remain at his estate,’ said Hadley. ‘The Duke is incensed at the loss of the ring – apparently a family heirloom worth a small fortune.’

The pawnbroker Mr Flan