Sherlock Holmes and The Scarlet Thread of Murder (21 page)

“Ivory?” interrupted Holmes. “Who is he?”

“I am getting to that, Mr Holmes. I was chained to the chair and taunted by the outlaws for some time. They hurt me.” Her eyes told a terrible story. “The man whom I first encountered came in. He slowly walked over towards me and as he did, he chuckled.

“‘You see these,' he said, holding out his open palm. In his hands rested a pair of diamond earrings that belonged to me!

“‘Yes, I see them.'

“‘If these were real, they'd cost a fortune. Many people thought they were real when you wore them to extravagant parties, especially when you would say they were a royal gift.'

“‘They were a royal gift.'

“‘From whom?'

“‘A King, in Europe.'

“‘Well, then this King's a cheap giver,' Suddenly without any warning, he burst out in anger, yelling in my face. ‘These earrings are fake!' His voice echoed throughout, and my heart raced with terror.

“‘How did you come to have my earrings?'

The man stood up straight and brushed himself off. He withdrew a pistol from a holster hung around his waist, and aimed the barrel at my forehead. ‘Why don't you ask your husband when you see him?'

“I closed my eyes and prepared to face my doom, but was saved when someone entered the room.

“‘Ivory!' called this other man. I took this to be my assailant's name, as he withdrew his gun and turned away. ‘Just had a message from Oaks. Someone has been sniffing around and found Norton's glove. They are coming here.'

“‘Oaks, you say?' said Ivory, who looked at me. ‘Tut, tut, Mrs Norton.' Ivory turned towards the man who delivered the message. ‘Dog, this place must burn. You know what to do.' With that, the gang of outlaws ran out the room whooping and hollering. ‘It's about to get hot in here, Mrs Norton, and you've nowhere to go.'

Ivory laughed and walked off. He went through a door, and I saw him go into an office of sorts. For roughly fifteen minutes, the gang and Ivory yelled back and forth to each other regarding their preparations. I heard him say to get the opium out of here and made ready for transfer. I heard one of the outlaws say that they sent a wire to a Homer Smith regarding their opium shipment. The outlaw, called ‘Dog', told Ivory that everything was set and that all the usable opium had been made ready for transport. Ivory walked back over and stood before me after he learnt this.

“‘You and your little friends have ruined this operation, and it is only a shame that I cannot make you suffer greatly before this place goes sky high!'

“‘You brought this upon yourself,' I spat. Ivory struck me across the face a couple of times. I could taste blood in my mouth and felt it trickle down my chin. He took out my earrings and threw them in my face before he crept off.

“‘Good night, little lady,' said Dog as he walked by me laughing. I struggled to get free and began crying for help. That is when Dr Watson found me, and when he released me, I ran into the office to see if there was anything I could find useful. I found this.” Miss Adler handed over a wire from a Mr Homer Smith.

Holmes examined it and laid it down. “All is not lost then,” he said contemplatively.

“What do we have?” I asked.

“Homer Smith is another link in this long chain, and might be able to help us,” said he. “Opium is clearly the driving force behind the Society, and Smith is in some way responsible for its delivery. See here; according to the telegram he heralds from a small town in the midwest, a town called Pendleton in the state of Indiana. Once I make a few enquires, I will determine if this is our best course of action.”

***

A few hours later, Holmes returned. Miss Adler had fallen asleep, and I read by the fire.

“Where have you been?” I asked.

“Went to see Oaks, but he is dead,” he returned. “I have bought us three tickets for Indiana. If we are to find the Ivory man and learn why they killed Norton, we must follow the drugs. We leave in the morning.”

At five o'clock in the morning, Holmes woke us all. He informed Miss Adler of our next journey. We hastily packed and made ourselves ready. Quickly loading our luggage into a cab, and then we were off.

“Your husband did not die over a pair of fake earrings,” said Holmes inside the dark cab.

“I should hope not.”

“There is a larger game afoot, a devious web in which he tangled himself. I think that the earrings were a payoff of some kind. We know he was being threatened for something. Money is normally the driver of most threats, and you have been left safely out of it until now.”

“Then why was my house broken into?”

“A riddle we have yet to solve.”

We arrived at the station and boarded our train. Holmes had acquired a private cabin for Miss Adler while he and I sat in the main compartment with the other travellers. She came to us and asked us to join her for a while. Together the three of us sat and conversed. I was asked about Mary and my marriage, both of which I was happy to discuss.

“And what about you, Mr Holmes, is there no lucky lady for you?” asked Miss Adler with a grin.

“The department of love I leave in the capable hands of Dr Watson.”

“Come now, is there no lady out there who is a suitable match for the great Sherlock Holmes?”

“It is not a matter of suitability, Miss Adler. I am devoted to my work and nothing else.”

“Can no one share in your devotion?”

I sat there, passing glances between the two of them as they talked. When she landed upon this question, I saw a look upon my friend's face that I had never seen before.

“My dear Miss Adler, as it is, I cannot offer feelings of that nature. I should like to pass another glance through Norton's journal, so if you will excuse me I will return to my seat.” He rose and departed.

“I think I shall leave you be, Miss Adler,” said I.

“In another life, my good Doctor, your friend and I would have made a dynamic couple,”

“Nothing would please me more than to see him partnered and falling in love, but it is clearly not his way.”

“I regret the circumstances that brought us all together. I wish there was a possibility of stepping back into the past and making it different. Had I met him before...” She stopped.

“No good can come from daydreaming about what could have been. Hindsight is always clearer,” I assured her. “Besides, you've already had a strong impact upon Holmes. It is true that he kept your picture in a drawer inside his study.” Miss Adler smiled as I said this. “And there is no other woman for whom he has done such a thing.”

“Thank you, Dr Watson,“ she said with a smile.

I nodded and departed her cabin. I found Holmes sitting in his chair drinking a glass of brandy and reading through Norton's journal. He was quiet and unresponsive. I left him to his ways and marvelled at the great American scenery speeding by on the other side of the window.

What Happened To Dr Watson

The train rolled to a stop into the very small station in Pendleton, Indiana. It was seven o'clock, and our twelve hour journey had been somewhat tiresome and lacking in any excitement. As the train pulled to a stop, the steam engulfed the long wooden platform in a white cloud. The three of us stepped out onto the platform. Holmes and Miss Adler were discomforted by the humidity which hung in the thick mid-western air. I found myself at ease in the oppressiveness of it, reminded of my short time in India. Together we walked into a small ticket-office. A large man with a plump belly sat inside, leaning back in a creaky wooden chair and chewing tobacco.

“What can I do ya for?” said he.

“We are looking for a local inn. Might you point us in the direction of one nearby?” Holmes asked.

The man looked at us bemused. “Boy, I ain't never heard talk like that before!” he said with a laugh. “Where you from, Ireland?”

“England,” Holmes corrected.

“Ah, ya'll sound similar, really!”

“Not quite,” began Holmes, but Miss Adler put her hand on his arm.

“My friends are from out of town, clearly,” she said, ”We are stopping here for a few days. Where could he find accommodation?”

“Good to see you Brits have got a fine American woman to show you around!” said he. “Up that road there, take it about ten minutes till you reach the main road. You'll see a track for the local tramline. When you see it, turn right and it'll take you right into town. You ought'a be able to find something up there.”

“Thanks, sir,” said Miss Adler, and we left. “Mr Holmes, it might be good for you to tone down your English side while we are here,” she said as we walked up the road.

“Perhaps you are correct,” said Holmes in a thick American accent.

Miss Adler smiled at him and chuckled. “Yes, something like that! And you too, Doctor!”

“Do my very best, ma'am,” said I.

Both Holmes and Miss Adler laughed at my failed attempt.

“It might be best, Watson, for you to remain silent,” said Holmes.

“Not all the time of course, Doctor,” said Miss Adler.

We found the tramline and followed it into town. It was intriguing to see what the Americans had achieved as they colonised this new country. The difference between the great city of New York to this rural town, was something quite unique.

The centre of town was made up of three blocks of brick buildings where the two main roads intersected. Looking down one street, towards a park, were a drug store and a butchers shop in the Chandlers Block building. If one was to turn right one could see a Christian church steeple. We, however, turned left. There were several horses and carts tied outside of the buildings. We walked down the street, and I saw a dental practice, an establishment called The Brownie Restaurant, Davis & Co. Undertaking, a post office, and a small medical practice.

“I wonder where the inn is?” Miss Adler asked.

“Let me go inside the restaurant and ask,” said Holmes, “Watson, stay with Miss Adler.”

I nodded.

Holmes passed through the swinging doors into the yellow glow of the establishment. The sound of men laughing, glasses colliding, and cutlery chiming echoed through the street. He walked out a moment later, and pointed his finger back up the road. We followed him and turned left down the road towards the park.

“There's a small inn up here,” Holmes informed us.

The Rose Inn greeted us warmly. A kind elderly lady with spectacles hanging on a chain around her neck met us.

“Good evening,” she said in a small, high-pitched voice. “What can I do for you?”

“Ma'am, we are looking for a couple of rooms for the next few nights,” Miss Adler asked.

“Hmm, let me see what we got,” and she pulled out a large book and placed her spectacles upon her nose. “Yes, we have a couple of rooms. One that would suit this lovely couple.” The woman paused to look up at Holmes and Miss Adler. “And one for you,” she finished, and looked down back at her book.

“My good lady,” said Holmes, “let me be clear, we shall need a room for me and my associate here,” pointing towards me, “and a private room for the lady,” pointing toward Miss Adler.

“Oh! Forgive me, sir, I thought you two were a couple!” said the old lady with a smile that creased her face. She took two sets of keys and asked us to follow her. The room Holmes and I would share was downstairs while Miss Adler's was on the second floor. We were informed that a breakfast was provided every morning at six fifty, but dinner was our own concern. We had not been in our room but ten minutes, and I could see the eagerness on my companion's face.

We helped Adler take her cases to the second floor.

“Be careful with that,” she instructed me.

We set her things down and she asked me to set the heavy case on the bed. She opened and motioned for us to come over. Lifting the case's lid inside were several handguns and rounds of ammunition.

“Quite the arsenal you have with you,” said Holmes.

“I expect trouble, and we'll need these.”

“I should like to get the lie of the land, Watson. Why don't you and Miss Adler get an idea of the local area, and I'll see what I can learn from the high street?

“Besides; if you run into trouble all you must do is shout, and we'll be bound to hear you,” said I with a chuckle. Holmes turned to leave.

“Mr Holmes.” He stopped when Adler spoke. “Take this,” she handed him a loaded revolver.” He placed it in his jacket and darted out.

“Well, shall we have a look around?”

***

Adler and I explored the area, most of which was patches of woods, wild growth, and a small farmland with the occasional row of houses lit with yellow glows. Every so often the toot of a train whistle fluttered in the air. We both froze suddenly at the sound of a boom in the distance.

“Was that a gunshot?” I asked.

“I think so!”

“Maybe it was a local farmer,” I said coming to my senses. The two of us walked up towards the park. The evening air was refreshing and cool. The sky was clear and littered with white stars, far more than one would see in London or New York.

“Wonder how Holmes has got on? He never stops, does he?”

“Certainly not,” said I.

“Do you not think that he misses the beauty the world has, always being driven to solve puzzles and crimes?”

“Surprisingly, his powers of observation extend into all matters. He is a thinking machine, but he does recognise beauty and wonder when he sees it.” We found our way into the park and walked along a creek until we came to a bridge built directly above the falls. We agreed that this was a good place to rest.

“Do you suppose we'll actually find these people, the man Ivory who controls the Society, or Homer?”

“I believe we will. Having spent near a decade with Holmes and documenting countless cases, unique in their own right, I believe in Sherlock Holmes. He will be able to track these men, even in a place as vast as America.”