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

‘Yes indeed! Trespassing!’ Wyndham went on. ‘And lying by omission to me about my dear daughter Odelia. Officer, I hold this man responsible for her disappearance, if not complicit!’

‘What?’ I cried. ‘That is a ludicrous accusation, sir!’

‘Mr Hadley! You saw it yourself with me this morning. My daughter had been living there on and off for some time,’ said Wyndham. ‘This man Holmes knew where she was, and few others did.’

‘By the way, sir, we have new information,’ offered Hadley. ‘A man by the name of “Leo” was heard just outside the Cross and Anchor at two in the morning last night, having a violent argument with your daughter. Something about wanting the return of his ring. The neighbour said the man skulked about for a bit after.’

Wyndham looked aghast.

‘That would be Leo Vitale,’ came a voice over my left shoulder. Atalanta Wyndham was more than happy to add to the scene. ‘St Cedd’s. Cambridge Laboratory. Besotted with her. Gave her a ring as well.’

‘A ring? Why did you not say this sooner?’ bellowed Wyndham to his daughter.

‘She threatened me,’ said Atalanta in her best approximation of a wounded deer.

Holmes tore his eyes away from this treacherous sister.

‘Inspector Hadley, you saw the room, then, before Mr Wyndham emptied it?’ asked Holmes. ‘Did you note any signs of a struggle?’

‘A struggle? No, not exactly.’ The man caught himself. ‘But I will not discuss this with you. Come along, now, Mr Holmes.’

Holmes did not move. ‘Sir, I expect better of you. Why would I harm that young lady? What would be my motive?’

‘Why, to get yourself hired to find her, of course,’ snarled Pickering.

‘I believe you know better, Inspector,’ said Holmes, addressing the older man. ‘And you may easily ascertain that I have been in London the last three days.’

‘We will be checking on that, Mr Holmes,’ said Hadley. ‘But for now, you’ll need to come with me, sir. You too, Dr Watson.’

‘Surely you don’t think Watson—’

‘Just a formality. He is coming for questioning, that is all.’

Pickering moved towards Holmes with his handcuffs at the ready.

‘No need for those,’ said Holmes, calmly. ‘I will not resist.’

But Pickering could not. He fastened Holmes’s hands behind his back and pushed him roughly out the door.

Hadley shook his head at this action but did not stop him. ‘Come along, Doctor.’

‘Good riddance,’ I heard Wyndham say as we exited the room. Atalanta giggled.

PART SIX

THE SETUP

An object is frequently not seen, from not knowing how to see it,

rather than from any defect of the organ of vision.

—Charles Babbage

CHAPTER 28

The Spinning House

Once at the local police station on St Andrews Street, we were questioned at length. I was released, but Holmes was taken to a cell, alone. As we parted, he called out to me, ‘Find Polly, Watson! I shall be out shortly.’

Pickering laughed. ‘We will see about that.’

I stood in front of the police station, at a loss. It was midday, and the sun was high in the sky, the heat shimmering through the air causing the edges of the building to waver in front of the eyes. Or perhaps it wasn’t the heat …

I mopped my forehead with my handkerchief. I felt faint. I had eaten nothing since dinner yesterday. I didn’t know how Holmes managed to go without food. It was as though a fever of energy overtook him while on a case.

But what to do? My friend was more confident of his release from gaol than I was. At a nearby post office, I wired Mycroft Holmes, informing him in the briefest terms of his brother’s circumstance. What happened next, while deeply disturbing, nevertheless proved to be providential in this case, in which so much went so terribly wrong.

I decided to return to Dillie’s hiding place in the diminishing hope that at least Polly might have returned there in our absence.

I walked down St Andrews Street and came upon a forlorn two-storey brick building with bars along the upper windows. As I passed, I heard a female scream emanate from a window above me. ‘Noooo!’ came the anguished cry, followed by a shriek of pain.

I hesitated. The cry came again and turned into a wail. Someone was suffering agony in that building. Without a pause, I raced through the front door. It was some sort of public place, and a sharp-faced man sat at a reception desk and looked up at me with a face compressed into a permanent scowl. ‘What do you want?’ he said.

‘I – I heard a cry!’ I said. ‘A woman. It sounded like she was in pain.’

‘Sir, you have no business here.’

‘I am a doctor. If someone is in such pain, perhaps I can be of help.’

‘Be gone! It is not your affair.’

‘What is this place?’

‘It is the Spinning House.’

The Spinning House! This was the place Holmes had mentioned where women were held without trial by the special University police – outside the regular law.

‘But what is happening upstairs?’

Abruptly the wiry gatekeeper stood, picked up a walking stick and came round from his desk. He held the stick in a way that said he might make creative use of it. ‘Now, be gone!’ he growled.

‘As a member of the public, I demand to know what is going on here,’ said I, placing my own stick in front of me. I would not be intimidated by this toad.

‘Don’t you know what this place is?’

‘Yes! I have heard that you people arrest women who seem to be consorting with students and hold them here without trial.’

‘Trial!’ he spat.

‘Do you torture them as well? I will call the real police if you do not explain to me what I just heard.’

‘The University has sovereignty here, in case you were not aware.’

The shriek came again, followed by a sob.

‘Dear God, man, have you no empathy? What is happening to that poor woman?’

‘Nothing untoward, you nosy know-nothing. We are protecting the students of the University – from illness, madness, and death!