Sherlock Holmes: Repeat Business. Lyn McConchie
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steep, and just as she reached the top of one flight my wife slipped. She would have fallen and perhaps been severely injured, were it not that Miss Mary was coming down the stairs and instantly caught hold of her, swinging her to one side against the banisters which my wife seized and regained her footing without harm.
Holmes nodded slowly. “I see, you naturally introduced yourselves, thanked her for the service and continued to nod and exchange greetings whenever you saw her after that.”
“Exactly so, sir. But it was only two weeks later when I was waiting for my wife that I observed Miss Mary under different circumstances. I should say that the dressmaker prefers I do not smoke within her rooms and I had come out into the passage to smoke in peace. I was standing in the shadows by the turn of the stairs on the flight above when I observed Miss Mary being assisted from her room. She appeared quite dazed, her face was white, and she seemed unable to stand or walk without help.
“I would have spoken, offered my aid, but that those who were with her moved very quickly. They had her down the stairs and into a hansom while I was still trying to decide if I should make my presence known to them. Mr. Sutherland has already asked, but I can tell you little about them, save that one was a man and the other a woman. The man wore a muffler about his face, while the woman had a heavy veil.”
“But you followed them down the stairs. How close were you when they spoke to the driver?”
“I heard a portion of the address since I was still walking towards them as they addressed him. I heard neither number nor street, but I distinctly heard the man say the name of the suburb.” He repeated that and the three of us exchanged glances. It was the area in which Miss Mary and the Windibanks resided.
“That is most useful, and I believe you may have done her a great service, sir,” Holmes said. “Now, of your courtesy answer my questions, and it may be that I can bring from your memory some small information on that pair with Miss Mary.”
He questioned Mr. Hackett tirelessly—and in the end—both men left each looking as weary as the other.
“What do you think, Holmes? Do you believe the letter was truly from Miss Mary?”
Holmes shook his head. “No, but it gives me hope she is alive yet. Meanwhile, I shall call on two of my young friends for aid.”
I listened to his instructions and went in search of two of the Baker Street Irregulars—as they were known. Having found them, I too gave certain instructions, and returned to find Holmes closeted with Inspector Bradstreet, who rose to leave just as I entered.
“I’ll be nearby, Mr. Holmes. Never you fear. Just blow your whistle and I and a couple of my men will come running.” With that he departed and I nodded to Holmes.
“The lads will do as you instruct. They’ll be watching and waiting.”
“Good. Then in a few hours, Watson, we will know the truth. Bring your medical bag, it may be required.”
I was ready to depart when he was, and at five o’clock that evening we set out for the Windibanks’ home. We met Josiah Sutherland waiting by the door and when that was opened to him we stepped quietly behind the hedge. One boy came from the lane behind the house and winked as he passed. Two boys passed us after that and Holmes nodded at them but without speaking. The lads vanished around the side of the house and we continued to wait.
At last our client reappeared, looking distressed and anxious. I took his arm and led him down the road a short distance before we halted. Holmes addressed him quietly.
“Did you see your cousin?”
“I cannot say, Mr. Holmes. They took me to a darkened room that lies up a short flight of stairs. Her illness has made her appear almost twice the age that I know her to be. She speaks in a whisper, and must pause often to take a sip of water. Yet, she knows much of my family and circumstances, and I cannot swear it is not Mary since I have never seen her before.”
Holmes pursed his lips slightly. “I think it was not. Wait while I hear the reports I am expecting momentarily.” He signaled and the three lads came from the cover of various fences and hedges.
“Well?”
We listened and, as we heard their reports, Josiah Sutherland’s face grew white.
“In God’s name, Mr. Holmes, we must act!”
“We shall. Follow me.”
He strode back to the Windibank house and beat upon the door. It was opened a little distance and that reluctantly, but Holmes thrust forward. As he did so he placed a whistle to his lips and blew. I heard running feet as Mr. Windibank fell back from the door, a look of horror on his face.
“You cannot come in, I forbid it. My daughter is too ill to see anyone again today.”
Holmes brushed him aside. But to my surprise he did not make for the upper room described by Josiah, but for the kitchen. There he dragged a mat from its place and, to my astonishment, I saw a trapdoor set within the planking.
“Hold them away, Watson, while I go into this dungeon.” His words gave me the truth—or some part of it—and I at once produced my revolver to order Miss Mary’s unnatural parents to stand back. Holmes reappeared within minutes, the wasted form of a girl in his arms. He placed her on the low settle and turned to me.
“I think it is mostly starvation which ails her, Watson. See what you can do while I speak to Inspector Hardcastle.” I saw that he was right as I studied the poor girl, and held a reviving cordial to her lips. She managed to smile at me, and then her smile widened into a joyful beam as Josiah came into her view over my shoulder. Her voice was very weak but clear.
“Cousin, is that you?”
“It is, did you think I would make no inquiries when you ceased to write? You are my cousin; I would never abandon you. Mr. Holmes has been seeking you on my behalf for weeks and now you are found.”
She repeated his words in a failing voice. “Yes, now I am found,” and fainted. I reassured her cousin, who was horrorstricken at this.
“She is only weak, and her faint was from relief, I believe. Call a hansom so that she may be conveyed safely to some place which will be more comfortable.”
He obeyed my instructions as others had obeyed Holmes’ orders. Some hours later we were all of us—but Miss Mary, who was asleep in a hotel bed—sitting in Holmes’ rooms and hearing the end of the tale.
“I read Miss Mary’s letters and guessed where they would be holding her prisoner. Normally such a cellar has ventilators to the outside, but the boys I instructed to search found those to be sealed up. It could be only to prevent any calls for help from being heard. That gave me hope she was yet alive.
“Her stepfather drugged her in a cup of tea at her typing room, and he and his wife conveyed her home, telling the driver she was drunk. They seem to have managed to get her inside without anyone noticing her condition upon arrival as being unusual, and they placed her immediately within the cellar—giving her water to drink and a little food now and again. There she was kept until they could be certain no one had noticed anything untoward and no one was seeking her.
“It must have been a great shock when they found Josiah was in the country and asking after her with considerable obstinacy, refusing to be put off. They decided in the end to pretend Mrs. Windibanks was her daughter and they planned to use letters previously forged to convince her cousin that Mary was still alive and that he should return to New Zealand, or so they hoped.
“In the end I think they would have allowed her to die, starving in the dark, and would have then produced the body, claiming her to have died from a wasting disease. If they kept her death quiet (apart from the doctor’s certificate), it could have been very many years before anyone realized that Miss Mary was no longer to be found and that her mother and stepfather had the use of her income.”
Josiah Sutherland’s look was bleak. “What will happen to them?”
“They