The Three Locks by Bonnie MacBird (learn to read books txt) 📕

is objectionable,’ she cried. ‘Everything I do has been controlled by others. I hate my life. I hate my parents. I hate this world that tries to rein me in, that excludes me from an education, adventures, excitement, and – well, everything I want!’

Holmes was silent for a moment.

‘I see. And I may understand this better than most. Like you, Miss Wyndham, I too have a secret location where I go to get away when life is oppressive.’

I had long suspected that Holmes had a bolt-hole or even more than one in London, although I always presumed these had to do with the danger of his profession, not for a need for privacy.

‘Even Watson here needs to get away from time to time.’ Holmes continued.

‘Holmes, I—’

‘Bath. Just recently. So yes, Miss Wyndham, we do understand.’

She stared at us, trying to make up her mind to accept this or not. ‘You men have far more freedom.’

‘I will admit that this is so. Miss Wyndham, why do you think your maid shared your location with me?’ Holmes asked.

‘I have been wondering that,’ said the girl, ‘and I shall take Polly to task for it.’

‘She did so because she knew I could help you. I believe you are in danger.’

‘Well, I don’t, Mr Holmes. That doll, it’s just a bid for attention. Stop trying to scare me! It will not work. I do not wish to be helped. I only wish to live my life as I please, and I am prepared to do whatever it takes for freedom. And if that includes smearing your reputation – both of you – I will not hesitate!’

‘You are playing a dangerous game, Miss Wyndham. I am not a vengeful or easily insulted person. You may fear no harm or repercussions from me. If I am not successful with my mission here, I shall simply go back to London and leave you all to sort out your difficulties. But not every man is so fitted.’

‘What do you mean, a dangerous game?’

‘You are fomenting drama with your disappearances. Perhaps you wrote a message on your doll, tore off its arm, and then threw it into the Jesus Lock. A “bid for attention”, as you just said.’

‘What a stupid notion. You are a stupid man.’

Holmes said nothing.

‘I did no such thing,’ said she. ‘I suppose someone wanted everyone to worry about me. That would not be me, Mr Holmes. I would prefer that everyone forget about me and leave me to pursue my own happiness.’

‘Do you often find yourself in the vicinity of the Jesus Lock?’

‘Well, of course. Our house is nearby. I need to get out for air. Anyone would.’

‘And the footbridge there, do you cross it on a regular basis? Meet up with anyone there repeatedly?’

‘Yes. And, no. This is not your business.’ She looked away, and I noted, finally, a touch of unease.

‘The mutilated doll found in the lock is quite possibly the work of someone who does not wish you well, Miss Wyndham.’

‘Or some kind of joke, Mr Holmes,’ said she. ‘Yes, a joke. That is what I think.’

‘Who would be your choice for such a remarkable piece of hilarity?’ persisted Holmes.

Miss Wyndham laughed, but it was a nervous laugh.

‘Anyone,’ she said. ‘Any of my suitors, I suppose. My mother is bereft, or so she appears to you. But that weak little bird enjoys receiving sympathy and is probably playing up her despair to the hilt. Tell me, has she taken to bed? Oh, I am sure that she has.’ The girl smiled, none too kindly.

‘And your sister?’

‘We are not friends. I stole her beau. Well, not really her beau, he never fancied her. Her dream. Could be Atalanta.’

‘Yes, the archer,’ said Holmes.

‘Perhaps it is someone who is “desperate” to have me found? Well, let’s see. I suppose that might be my father.’ That thought pleased her. ‘Oh, the scandal.’

‘What of your two young men? Do they know you are staying here?’

‘Three young men. Two of them know. One does not. Freddie and Leo know.’

‘And Freddie is Frederick, Lord Eden-Summers – your sister’s dream?’

She shrugged and leaned forward to retie the laces of one of her tennis shoes.

‘And Leo?’

‘Ha! My parents know nothing of him! Leo Vitale. Studying physics. St Cedd’s. Frighteningly intelligent. A bit unschooled with women, but he has potential.’

‘And who is the third? Deacon Buttons?’

‘Perry! Well, yes, but he is hardly in the running. He is besotted, a puppy. You ask too many questions.’ She turned her attention to the other shoe.

‘Please, Miss Wyndham. How do you suppose the culprit acquired your doll? I noted a large tree in the back of the house whose branches reach right up to the window of your bedroom. Which of your young gentlemen is in the habit of accessing your room via this route?’

She looked up in surprise. ‘How do you know this?’ she exclaimed before she could think to deny the fact entirely.

‘It is my profession.’

‘Well, it is none of your business.’

‘There were several sets of footprints in the soft earth beneath the tree, in addition to your own. I suggest that one of these young men retrieved your doll and threw it in the lock. I also suggest that it would be to your advantage to know which. I don’t like it. And neither should you.’

‘I have no idea. Leo or Freddie have visited. But I can’t imagine them doing this.’

‘And the deacon has seen your room?’

‘Yes, I suppose.’

I must have smiled as I imagined all of this. She turned to glare at me. ‘Ah, Doctor! You seem amused. Have you never been young and in love?’

‘Me? Oh, well—!’ I exclaimed. Holmes shot me a bemused look. ‘We were all young once,’ I said.

‘None of this matters. Who would have suspected anyone would summon Sherlock Holmes, all the way from London? My father must be desperate! His reputation above all.’ She smiled to herself, pleased at the thought of giving her father discomfort.

Holmes stood up. ‘Miss Wyndham, I will not give away