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

must consider himself in luck, I thought. He knew all along the worth of Eden-Summers’ rather ostentatious ring and had vastly underpaid.

‘It may be found, along with Mr Vitale’s ring, at Piotr Flan’s pawnshop on the Cheltenham Road. Brought there by Deacon Peregrine Buttons.’

‘Good Lord!’ said Hadley, clearly surprised by this news.

‘If you will set me free, I will show you what I found in Buttons’ room. Miss Wyndham received her fatal blow there in a fierce battle. The signs are there to be read. But I had not finished my examination when Watson spotted Buttons on the Jesus Lock footbridge. You know the rest.’

‘Wright is a good man. He will find anything that is in the room.’

Holmes grimaced, the picture of frustration. ‘Nevertheless, doing so without me is a mistake.’

‘Perhaps, Mr Holmes, but you dug your own pit by escaping from custody earlier. Buttons is the most obvious suspect. His attempted suicide shows he is clearly deranged and racked by guilt. By several accounts he was utterly obsessed with the girl.’

As much as I had liked Buttons, I was beginning to agree with Hadley on this matter.

‘I understand from Professor Wyndham that it was young Buttons who brought you into the case,’ Hadley continued.

‘An argument against his guilt, would you not think?’ said Holmes.

‘No, I would not think. I have seen boastful criminals taunt the police in precisely this way. It is sheer arrogance,’ said Hadley, smoothing his hair self-consciously.

Holmes had used this same argument regarding Madame Borelli, and it was true. We had encountered this before. The more I considered the matter, the stronger I leaned towards Buttons as the culprit. The constraints of his chosen profession had weighed heavily upon him. He was a highly emotional man.

‘At this point,’ said Hadley, ‘my suspicions are divided, however. I have not eliminated the rather unusual Mr Vitale. Now that is a strange young man. A touch inhuman.’

Holmes shifted on his chair. He must be devilishly uncomfortable, I thought, soaking wet and having just undergone tremendous physical strain while rescuing a drowning man from a powerful current.

‘Miss Wyndham was attacked and dealt the fatal blow in Deacon Buttons’ room,’ said he. ‘Her body was dumped out of the window and from there conveyed to the river. But I found evidence that at some point during the night in question, others were in that room. Possibly two others. Whoever killed her attempted to straighten up the room and remove evidence, but did so in haste. There is something still to be learned. You must let me finish there!’

‘I am sorry, but no.’

Just then Holmes was taken by a sudden coughing spell and appeared to cough up more water. He gasped. ‘I am having difficulty breathing in this thing. Doctor …’

I took his meaning at once. ‘Sir! This man nearly drowned. At least let me, a medical doctor, examine him. You don’t want the famous London detective to suffocate while in your custody because your inept sergeant was too enthusiastic. Believe me, I will make sure the full force of the law comes down upon you if he is hurt here.’

‘Oh, stop threatening me, Dr Watson. I don’t want him in here at all,’ said Hadley. ‘But you see my position. Yes, by all means check. But nothing funny, Doctor, or I’ll lock you up as well.’

CHAPTER 40

Church and State

Hadley unlocked the cell and I moved inside and knelt by Holmes, to check that his breathing was not constricted. Behind me, young Constable Palmer entered the small room outside Holmes’s cell. ‘I cannot induce Father Lamb to leave, sir. He is very concerned about the prisoner.’

‘Tell him to wait,’ Hadley answered.

As I leaned over Holmes to check his bonds, he whispered in my ear, ‘Give me your pocketknife, Watson.’

This seemed like a terrible idea. I gave Holmes my best ‘you are utterly mad’ look while saying aloud, ‘I will need to loosen this strap here.’ As I went about my task, I nevertheless managed to slip him the knife, unseen, pressing it into his hand from the bottom of the straitjacket. ‘Careful, Holmes,’ I whispered.

Giving him the knife had been against my better judgement.

‘Father Lamb is awfully impatient,’ insisted Palmer.

‘Palmer, you have your order!’ said Hadley, and then turned to me. ‘Doctor? All is well with Mr Holmes?’

‘I need another moment,’ I replied.

‘All right. Then would you be good enough to check on Mr Buttons?’ said Hadley.

He departed, and I finished and exited the cell. Palmer shut the barred door with a loud clang and locked it securely. A quick glance at my friend showed him already at work, squirming under the straitjacket.

I wondered what Holmes’s plan could be. He might free himself, and then what? He would not get far. The station was full of men and bustling with activity.

Meanwhile, I had an urgent mission. Buttons could be suffering from shock. Another suicide attempt would not be unusual. I said as much to Palmer, who assured me the bedding had been removed from Buttons’ cell to prevent him hanging himself.

‘Yes, but shock is now the risk. Can you bring a blanket and something warm to drink?’ I said.

He nodded. ‘I’ll be right with you. He’s down that hallway there.’ He pointed me in the direction of the cell.

Echoing from the distant end of the hall and around the corner, I heard the familiar voice of Father Lamb. ‘Yes, sir, thank you, sir. I do, I fear for this young man’s soul.’ The strident voice grew fainter.

Thinking to follow, I hurried down the corridor but made a wrong turn. I saw neither Father Lamb nor Buttons’ cell. I did pass one larger cell which contained two drunken, somnolent men. What a labyrinthine place this was!

I asked directions and at last I arrived at Buttons’ cell. I peeked in through the door’s barred window. The young man lay on the hard cot, curled into a foetal position, shivering and moaning. Father Lamb was nowhere in sight. The bedding had been