A Study in Crimson, page 2
Holmes took in this information and gestured to the scientist to continue.
‘I had no sooner grasped the handle of my own door than I was startled by a scream from Dr MacReady’s room. I rushed there at once, tapped upon the door and called out, asking if she was in distress. When there was no answer, I tried to open it and found it locked, as I expected. After rapping again to no avail, I knocked loudly on Amberson’s door and shouted at him to wake up.’
‘I rushed out in my pyjamas,’ Amberson chipped in. ‘The professor told me what had happened and sent me to fetch Sergeant Ross.’
‘I take it that is standard procedure in an emergency of this nature,’ said Holmes.
‘Yes, Ross is in charge of security,’ said Smithers. ‘Now I ask you to bear in mind, Mr Holmes, that throughout all this time I continued knocking and calling and at no point was the door out of my sight.’
Holmes nodded slowly and I could tell that his mind was already at work.
‘Within a few minutes Amberson returned with Sergeant Ross and four or five of his men. I briefly apprised Ross of the situation and he bade me stand clear. He is a large man, and threw his shoulder at the door with great force. After three or four blows the wood splintered and the door gave way. Inside we found—’
Holmes raised a hand to forestall him. ‘If you please, professor, I should like to make my own inspection of the room.’
‘Very well,’ said Smithers, ‘I shall take you up. Bloomhurst, have Sergeant Ross join us upstairs. Amberson, you may accompany us to confirm the facts. The rest of you can return to your work.’
The professor led us back out to the hall and up a broad stairway which ascended in a series of wide curves. As we reached the first turning, I was taken aback by the sight of a savage Highlander, armed to the teeth, leering down at us from above. At second glance I realised it was only a large painting hanging on the wall.
‘Good heavens! What a ferocious looking fellow!’ I exclaimed.
‘That is a portrait of Black Dougal, the seventh laird,’ said Amberson. He added with relish, ‘He was a bloodthirsty character who, according to legend, beheaded anyone who entered his castle without being invited. In fact, it is even rumoured—’
‘That he haunts the place to this day,’ Holmes interrupted disparagingly. ‘Yes, yes, yes. What would a Scottish castle be without its resident ghost?’
I could tell the young scientist was miffed at being robbed of the opportunity to indulge himself in a blood-curdling tale of the supernatural.
‘Really, Amberson,’ snapped Smithers, ‘you should know better than to entertain such superstitious rot.’
‘At any event,’ said Holmes, ‘we are seeking a flesh and blood intruder. Ghosts need not apply.’
When we reached the third floor, the professor beckoned us to the first room on the right. The door hung somewhat crookedly on its hinges and the splintered wood of the door frame was clear evidence of how it had been forced. Entering ahead of us, the professor switched on an overhead light to reveal a spacious, well-appointed room.
Directly facing us was a window, covered by a black-out curtain. A single bed, neatly made up with a tartan spread, occupied the far left corner while against that wall stood a wardrobe. A bookcase and a reading desk were positioned to the right of the window. Some items of women’s clothing lay scattered on the floor outside the open door of an en suite bathroom.
Holmes arched an eyebrow. ‘I take it these are Dr MacReady’s clothes?’
‘When we entered the room, we found them lying just as you see them,’ Smithers confirmed.
Holmes bent down and, taking a pen from his pocket, used it to lift each item of clothing for examination. ‘One white silk blouse, one skirt of Harris tweed,’ I heard him inventory under his breath, ‘one cardigan in matching shade of green, and a pair of low-heeled brown shoes, size eight. Interesting.’
‘When we entered,’ said Smithers, ‘we immediately noticed Dr MacReady’s outer garments strewn across the floor. Through the open bathroom door we could hear the sound of water running. Thinking for a moment that Dr MacReady might have slipped in the bath and knocked herself unconscious, I entered the bathroom with my eyes averted and called her name. When there was no response I looked up. The bath was unoccupied.’
‘How extraordinary,’ I murmured.
‘Both taps were running,’ Smithers continued, ‘so I bent down to turn them off. When I looked round, Ross was looming in the doorway behind me. Seeing that Dr MacReady was missing, he immediately dispatched his men with orders to search the house and grounds. He and I made a thorough examination of the room, opening the wardrobe and checking under the bed, to assure ourselves there was no possible place of concealment.’
Holmes stepped over the discarded clothing into the bathroom. Switching on the light, he examined the bath, the sink, and the medicine cabinet. ‘The water was running, you say?’
‘Mr Holmes, my scientific training has not gone for nothing,’ Smithers declared stiffly as Holmes emerged from the bathroom. ‘I have made my own deductions and I believe I can outline the sequence of events.’
‘Do proceed,’ Holmes invited him. ‘I’m sure it will prove enlightening.’
‘After we parted, Dr MacReady fastened both locks and placed the blackout curtain over the window,’ said the professor. ‘She then began running a bath and started to remove her clothes. It was at this point that the intruder emerged from his hiding place in the wardrobe and seized her. She screamed. I ran to the door, and the rest is as I told you.’
‘Leaving one vital question unanswered,’ I said. ‘What has become of Dr MacReady and her abductor?’
Holmes walked over to the window and drew the blackout curtain aside to examine the steel bars fixed there. They seemed quite immovable. He turned back to Smithers.
‘The wardrobe, professor – was it open or shut when you entered?’
‘It was closed as you see it now. Nothing has been interfered with.’
Holmes opened the wardrobe and scrutinised the contents. Blouses, jackets, skirts and other items were hanging neatly. On the floor to one side lay a pile of assorted shoes.
Holmes closed the wardrobe door. ‘And the bath – it was overflowing?’
‘No, the plug had been removed.’
‘Did you examine the plug to determine if it was wet?’
‘No, I did not think that necessary.’
‘Quite so, quite so,’ Holmes mused. He moved methodically around the room, minutely examining the walls and the furniture.
I sidled over to the desk and noted that the adjoining bookcase contained volumes of chemistry, books on rock climbing and a selection of novels by Scott, Dickens and others. A copy of Stevenson’s famous tale Kidnapped had been taken from the shelf and lay unopened on the desk. I pointed this out to my friend.
‘What do you think, Holmes? Is this a challenge left by the kidnapper or an appeal for help by the victim?’
Holmes barely glanced at the book before kneeling down to examine the wainscot through his magnifying glass.
‘You will appreciate, Mr Holmes, that this puts me in a most dreadful situation,’ said Smithers, thrusting his hands into his pockets and shaking his head in agitation. ‘As director of this facility, such a breach of security reflects badly on my abilities and my reputation stands to suffer most grievously.’
Holmes stood up straight, pulled out his pipe and began filling it.
‘Yes, professor, I quite understand that it is you who are the victim in this affair. I shall not allow my concern for Dr MacReady’s welfare to blind me to that fact.’
‘Mr Holmes, I am afraid I do not allow smoking inside the building,’ Professor Smithers declared sternly.
‘Really?’ Holmes struck a match. ‘How fortunate for me then that I am not operating under your authority. Ah, this must be Sergeant Ross.’
Taking his first puff, he stepped out into the passage to meet the burly, uniformed figure who had appeared there. The sergeant was a good six feet two inches with bright red hair and a broad craggy face.
‘That’s right, sir,’ he confirmed. ‘And you’ll be Mr Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson. Who’d hae thocht oor wee problem would bring ane o’ the country’s greatest detectives a’ the way up frae London!’
‘One of them?’ Holmes queried sharply, his vanity piqued.
‘You mean the greatest, of course,’ I prompted the sergeant before my friend could take further offence.
‘Oh, aye, just as ye like, sir,’ Ross responded with a smile. ‘To be frank, I’ve aye been a great reader o’ Sexton Blake mysel’. I grew up on his adventures.’
‘Sexton Blake is a fictional character,’ I reminded him pointedly.
‘Aye, that’s true, I suppose,’ the sergeant conceded, adding with some enthusiasm, ‘but he is a braw, two-fisted sort o’ a chap.’
‘Well, in the absence of Mr Blake,’ said Holmes caustically, ‘I shall attempt to solve this mystery without crashing an aeroplane or dodging a hail of bullets. I hope that will not prove a disappointment.’
The sergeant gave a deep-chested chuckle. ‘Nae offence meant, sir. Shall we get doon tae business?’
We returned to Dr MacReady’s room, where, under Holmes’s questioning, Ross confirmed the professor’s account of the previous night’s events without indulging in any speculations. Satisfied that all the relevant information had been laid out, Smithers prepared to leave.
‘Amberson and I have been away from our researches long enough,’ he declared. ‘Ross, you will see that Mr Holmes and Dr Watson are served with an adequate supper and shown to their rooms, won’t you?’
‘Aye, professor, I’ll see tae it personally,’ Ross responded.
Smithers made a show of waving Holmes’s pipe smoke out of his face and led Amberson off down the passage towards the stairs. I saw the sergeant regard the departing scientists with wry displeasure as they disappeared.
‘Sergeant Ross,’ said Holmes, as the soldier led us downstairs, ‘as chief of security, you must have some thoughts regarding this unusual business.’
Ross rubbed his large jaw and narrowed his twinkling eyes. ‘No’ tae cast any aspersions, Mr Holmes, but I only hae Professor Smithers’ word for it that Dr MacReady was ever in the room at a’. No’ that I question his judgement, but he has been awfy fashed o’ late.’
‘And why is that?’
‘Well, we’ve been warned by the intelligence Johnnies tae look oot for the enemy seekin’ tae infiltrate ane o’ their agents into the project. It’s made the professor as jumpy as a moose in a hoose full o’ cats.’
More than this he refused to say. At the bottom of the stairs he opened a door and waved us through into a spacious kitchen redolent with the warm smell of cooking.
The presiding genius was Mrs Sienkowski, a Polish émigrée, who served us a hearty supper of mutton stew accompanied by crusty bread and mugs of tea. As we ate Holmes asked her many questions about the castle’s daily routine and the layout of the rooms. When he touched on the personalities of the principals, Mrs Sienkowski grumbled in her thick accent.
‘Dr MacReady we like. She is true woman, and only proper soul out of all of them. And yet big professor, he want rid of her. Not good, not good.’
The rooms we were allocated had a connecting door between them. Leaving it open while we unpacked, I took the opportunity to air my thoughts in Holmes’s hearing.
‘Professor Smithers was alone outside Dr MacReady’s door for at least a couple of minutes,’ I pointed out. ‘Is it possible that, given his antagonism towards her, he took the opportunity to do away with her?’
‘And then dispose of the body so completely that it cannot be found?’ Holmes shook his head emphatically. ‘I ask you, Watson, does he strike you as a man capable of such bold action?’
‘No,’ I confessed, ‘he does not. So what do you make of his reconstruction of the events?’
Holmes indulged in a short laugh. ‘The professor is like a blind man who tries to identify an elephant.’
‘I know the fable. You mean he has grasped the trunk and so assumes the animal to be some sort of snake.’
‘Yes. Consider the assumption that Dr MacReady was assaulted by an intruder who was waiting in the room. For Professor Smithers to have heard her scream before entering his own bedroom, the scream must have come no more than ten seconds after she closed and locked her door. Is that really enough time to put up the blackout curtain, set the bath water running and partially disrobe? I think not.’
‘Then what are we to make of it all?’
‘I have not reached a definite conclusion as yet, but the evidence is very suggestive.’
‘Evidence? What evidence?’
‘The fact that the clothes hanging in the wardrobe were well ordered but the shoes below them were piled up in a heap, that the bath taps were running but the plug had been removed. Then there is Dr MacReady’s blouse, on which a button had been pulled loose.’
‘Surely as the result of a struggle,’ I said.
Holmes shook his head. ‘A struggle which resulted in the blouse being stripped from her body would have involved considerably more damage than one loose button. And then there is the rubbery mark on the wainscot to the left of the door.’
‘None of that tells me anything at all,’ I protested.
Holmes stepped into the open doorway and sighed. ‘Evidently it does not. But you have surely noted the most significant fact about Dr MacReady?’
‘You mean that she is a woman?’
‘I mean,’ said Holmes with emphasis, ‘that she is Scottish.’
‘Scottish? What on earth has that to do with anything?’
‘It has everything to do with it. Don’t fret yourself – all will be clear in the morning.’
Not for the first time I was provoked by my friend’s habitual reticence. ‘You wouldn’t care to elucidate now?’
‘My dear fellow,’ he said, closing the door, ‘I already have.’
3 THE TRAIL OF BREAD CRUMBS
I was woken at the earliest hour of morning by an energetic rapping at the connecting door. As I struggled upright on my pillows, the door was flung open and Sherlock Holmes strode imperiously into the room. He was fully dressed, and at close quarters smelled of soap and hair oil.
‘Come along, Watson,’ he exhorted me briskly, ‘this is no time to be a slugabed. My nostrils are twitching with the scent of a breakfast being cooked.’
Even through the blackout curtain, I could tell it was still dark outside. ‘Holmes,’ I grumbled, ‘it’s surely too early for breakfast.’
‘Too early for us, but not for certain others. Come along, man. Get dressed quickly and meet me outside.’
With that he was gone. Clambering out of bed, I pulled on my clothes, ran a comb through my hair, and stumbled downstairs. Holmes was pacing up and down outside the front door in a fever of impatience.
When he spotted me, he pressed a finger to his lips. ‘Quiet now and keep to the shadows,’ he instructed, and beckoned me to follow.
We made our way round the north wing of the castle to the rear where we crouched behind a rain barrel. From this vantage point I could see Holmes’s gaze was fixed firmly on an open door in the basement level. From the scents wafting through the air I had no doubt that this was the back entrance to the kitchen. Why we should be spying on Mrs Sienkowski’s efforts was beyond me, while the smell of cooked breakfast stirred a sharp hunger in the depths of my stomach.
Holmes abruptly yanked me down deeper into hiding as a uniformed figure emerged from the doorway and made its way steadily up the small set of steps to the ground level. I recognised at once the burly outline of Sergeant Ross. He was carrying a tray which held an assortment of covered dishes. As we watched, he set off into the surrounding woods.
Holmes turned to me with a gleam in his eyes. ‘Come along, Watson, and go cannily. Sergeant Ross is our trail of bread crumbs.’
Crouching low and darting from one patch of shrubbery to the next, we followed the sergeant into the trees. There was no difficulty about keeping him in sight even at a safe distance, as he was making no effort at concealment. He clearly did not expect anyone else to be abroad at this hour and strolled casually along a narrow, winding path.
‘Holmes, where on earth can he be going?’ I murmured.
‘Can you not guess?’ Holmes sounded genuinely surprised.
In a flash it occurred to me that Ross must surely be taking this breakfast tray to the vanished Dr MacReady.
I said breathlessly, ‘Are you suggesting that the sergeant is actually an enemy agent? That he spirited Dr MacReady away and is holding her captive somewhere in these very grounds?’
Holmes clucked his tongue reprovingly. ‘I’m suggesting nothing of the sort. Surely I explained it all last night.’
‘You did everything but explain,’ I retorted with some warmth. ‘Perhaps you might begin with the loose button on the discarded blouse to which you attach such importance.’
‘It was pulled loose because the blouse was removed in haste,’ said Holmes. ‘The fact that the shoes were kicked off willy-nilly and the skirt was only partially unzipped before being pulled off tells the same story.’
‘Are you saying that Dr MacReady was in a hurry to take a bath?’
‘If she had intended to take a bath, she surely would have put the plug in before turning on the taps. No, no, the clothes in the doorway and the running water were intentional distractions. Then there were the spaces on the bathroom shelf from which a few essential toiletries had obviously been removed. On the other side of the room was the telling evidence of the wardrobe.’
The path forked ahead of us and Ross turned off to the left. As we followed, Holmes continued to discourse.
‘You saw the disordered shoes in the otherwise tidy wardrobe. They had been thrust aside to make room for a bundle. Then, of course, the clothes hanging there, and the shoes themselves, clearly indicated that Dr MacReady is quite a tall woman.’
I felt myself bewildered but pressed on. ‘And the mark on the wainscot?’
