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

Duplicitous little wench! Philip!’ A footman scurried in. ‘You have sent my request?’ barked Wyndham.

‘Yes, sir. Ten minutes ago, now, sir. With all haste.’

Wyndham waved the young man away. He took a deep breath, then turned back to us. ‘Sit down. Over there.’ He pointed to a sofa, facing away from the door. It was an order, not an invitation.

Perhaps it would calm him, I thought, and took a seat as directed. Holmes remained standing. His eyes bored into our host’s.

‘You seem to be more angry than concerned about your daughter’s disappearance, Mr Wyndham.’

‘Oh, please. The sun rises, the sun sets.’

‘You are not worried, then?’

‘No.’

‘What about her fiancé, the young Lord Eden-Summers?’

‘I doubt he knows where she is, either.’

‘You’ve been in touch, then?’

‘Well, when Dillie left our house yet again, he and I spoke. He suggested leaving Dillie to her plans.’

‘Perhaps they since eloped?’

‘No. I checked this morning and know he is still in his rooms.’ Wyndham snorted like an angry bull. ‘If she breaks this engagement, the girl will be dead to me. She knows that.’

‘Professor Wyndham, I found Dillie once before. And I advised you to do nothing but wait, to communicate through me, and to rest assured that I would endeavour to patch things up between you.’

‘Yes, and look how well that has gone,’ snapped the don.

‘I am concerned for her safety,’ said my friend.

‘Based on what? Who told you she was missing this time?’

‘A person with her well-being in mind.’

From behind us, I heard someone at the front door. I stood up. Holmes and I glanced at each other. My friend was on edge.

Wyndham moved to a small table opposite the door and poured himself a whisky. It was not even noon! We turned to face him. He did not offer us a drink.

‘I have had it with your prevarication, Holmes. You knew where my daughter had gone to hide and yet you chose to conceal her location from me. Now look what has happened. For a so-called detective, you bring more mystery to the situation than you solve.’ His voice grew louder.

He took his whisky and stood in front of the window. Wyndham took a sip, turned to his right and favoured us with a dramatic view of his profile, the mane of white hair in a sweeping wing. It was a studied pose. ‘She saw the light of reason, returned home, and announced her engagement,’ he continued. ‘Who knows what you may then have advised her? Now she has gone off alone—’

‘How do you know she is alone?’ asked Holmes.

‘Well, I don’t.’

‘Dr Wyndham, if anyone is responsible for your daughter’s desire to flee, it would most certainly be you,’ said Holmes. ‘She was remarkably unhappy here. I can’t imagine you are unaware of that fact.’

The man gave us a scornful smile. ‘When she vanished again, I prevailed upon my household to find her,’ said he. ‘They canvassed the town. Began to go door to door. Polly flew from the premises on the flimsiest of excuses. But thank heavens for Atalanta. Not only did she find Dillie’s hideaway, but she also followed Polly and saw her board a train for London. Visiting her mother, indeed!’ His face darkened. ‘She came to see you.’

Holmes and I exchanged a look. There was no use denying it.

‘She did,’ said Holmes. ‘At considerable risk to herself. Where is Polly now? She returned by a late train last night.’

‘Holmes!’ I cried, thinking it dangerous for him to have given Polly away.

‘We need to find her, Watson, if she did not return here.’

‘Here? No. That maid was a thief. As was my daughter! I found one of Odelia’s earrings in the back of a drawer in her hideaway, one that she swore was missing from the house a year ago. Come to think of it, several pieces of my mother’s jewellery have gone missing from my wife’s room over the last year. It got so that Ianthia would not mention this to me for fear of … but dear Atalanta noticed and kept me informed. I suspected my wife’s carelessness … but now I think it was Odelia and Polly, stealing things and perhaps pawning them to fund Odelia’s adventures. When I get my hands on either of them—’

A slight movement in the periphery drew my eye to a side door, near the fireplace. There, positioned behind her father, Atalanta was visible watching the proceedings. Her face was a blank and yet everything about her projected eager concentration. I got the distinct impression of a mongoose watching a snake.

Holmes regarded the father with disdain equivalent to the don’s. ‘Sir, your irresponsible actions have driven your daughter from you and have made it impossible for me to do my job.’

‘What job? No one has hired you.’

‘Rest assured I will find out what happened to your daughter, and if she is hurt, and you were involved, Wyndham, you will be sorry that—’

‘You dare to threaten me! I hold you responsible for what has happened! Officers!’

A small sound behind us caused me to turn. Detective Inspector Hadley and the unpleasant Sergeant Pickering had arrived without our seeing, thanks to the don’s careful choreography. They now stood on the threshold. A third policeman, a tall, muscular lad of twenty, with a black handlebar moustache, glowered behind them.

‘Mr Hadley, did you hear what this upstart detective Mr Holmes just said?’ bellowed Wyndham. ‘He threatened me!’

‘I did indeed, Mr Wyndham,’ said Hadley, in his reasonable manner. ‘Mr Holmes, will you come with me to the station, please? I don’t wish to cuff you but will if you resist.’

Sergeant Pickering removed shiny silver handcuffs and held them up. I had the sudden image of him polishing them, alone, each evening.

‘You are arresting me, Inspector Hadley? On what charge?’ asked Holmes.

‘Trespassing,’ said Hadley. ‘We are told you forced your way in here.’

‘I did nothing of the sort.’

‘The footman and the butler will swear to the contrary,’ said the don with a small smile.

Holmes turned incredulously to the man.

‘Sir?’ I