Martin Greenberg - Sherlock Holmes In America

The church had provided a large, comfortable home for their minister. A young maid answered the door, an Irish girl who frowned at Malloy and actually glared her disapproval that two English gentlemen were invading her master’s home. She showed us into a formal parlor that was fairly choked with the heavy furniture and the multitudinous bric-a-brac that people considered fashionable nowadays. A well-dressed couple of middle years awaited us.

Malloy made the introductions, and I noted that the Reverend Mr. Penny appeared to be familiar with my friend’s reputation and expressed his heartfelt gratitude for our assistance. He was a well-groomed man of at least sixty, whose thick hair had gone a distinguished gray and whose middle had gone a bit soft.

Mrs. Penny had clearly been a beauty in her day and was still a handsome woman, although she was approximately the same age as her husband. She was practically enthralled by her visitors.

“Mr. Holmes, I understand Mr. Roosevelt himself has asked you to look into the matter of our poor daughter,” Mrs. Penny said, plainly gratified by the attention of such an important person as Theodore Roosevelt.

“Although the police have been more than diligent in their efforts, Mr. Roosevelt thought perhaps a stranger would have a fresh perspective,” Holmes quickly demurred, with a nod of recognition toward Mr. Malloy. Holmes never openly disparaged the police if he could help it, no matter how inept they might be. “Could you tell me about your daughter?”

“I’m not sure where to start,” Mrs. Penny said uncertainly.

“What would be helpful to you to know?” Penny asked.

“Tell me about your family,” Holmes invited. “Is she your only child?”

“Oh, no,” Mrs. Penny said. “Not at all. She is the youngest of five.”

“A surprise baby,” Penny added, but without a hint of embarrassment or even the delight that people often displayed when describing such an event. “She came along years after we thought our family was complete.”

“Which was fortunate,” Mrs. Penny hastened to explain. “My health began to fail shortly after her birth, and she has been such a comfort to me. I remember when she was only a child, she told me her fondest wish was to live with her Papa and me forever and to care for us in our old age.”

I could not help noting that in my professional opinion, Mrs. Penny looked remarkably well for a woman whose health had been failing for almost twenty-five years.

“Harriet is a beautiful girl,” Penny said, contradicting what Malloy had told us and earning a look of shocked disapproval from his wife. “Her beauty is inner, however,” he hastened to explain. “A beauty of the spirit.”

“All my other children are quite handsome,” Mrs. Penny wanted us to understand, implying that she should not be judged poorly because she had produced one child who failed to meet her standards. “But poor Harriet… So it was just as well she had no desire for marriage and a family.”

“She has a good heart, though,” Penny continued. “She kept up a voluminous correspondence with our missionary families and was always collecting things for them.”

“How did it happen that she was alone at the church on the day she disappeared?” Holmes asked.

“I went with her that morning, of course,” Mrs. Penny offered, almost defensively. “Just as we always do. We were sorting old clothes and packing them in barrels to send to the missionaries in foreign lands.”

“Yes, Mr. Malloy explained that.”

“But shortly after we arrived,” Mrs. Penny continued, “Harriet said to me, ‘Mama, I see that you aren’t feeling well today. Why don’t you return home and rest?’ Harriet was always very solicitous of my health.”

“So you left her there alone?” I could not help saying.

“Of course not!” Mrs. Penny exclaimed. “Mrs. Jenkins and Mrs. Smith were expected momentarily. She would have been alone for only a few minutes at most.”

“And when did these two ladies actually appear?” Holmes asked.

“Never,” Penny said before his wife could answer. “They did not come at all. There was some… some confusion about the day they were supposed to meet at the church.”

“They thought they were supposed to come the next day,” Malloy offered, as if to remind us this was his case and he was in command of all the facts.

“I will never forgive them for not being there,” Mrs. Penny declared. “If they had been, our daughter would still be with us. Oh, Mr. Holmes, do you think you can bring poor Harriet back to us?”

“I will certainly try to locate her,” Holmes said, being careful to promise nothing. “When you went to the church that morning, did you walk or take a carriage?”

“Oh, we always walk. It’s just a step over to the church.”

“Did Harriet bring anything with her?”

“A bundle of clothing. She had called on some of our neighbors to collect donations for the barrels. She was always thinking of others,” she added.

“Did you see her sort the clothes she brought with her?” Holmes asked.

Mrs. Penny frowned. “I don’t believe I did. We had hardly arrived at the church when Harriet suggested I return home, you see.”

“You said that Harriet had no desire for marriage and a family, but had any young man expressed an interest in courting her?” Holmes asked.

Mrs. Penny shook her head sadly. “Dear me, no, Mr. Holmes. Poor Harriet is very shy, and she lacks those… those characteristics that make a young lady attractive to young gentlemen.”

“And I am a clergyman, as you know,” Mr. Penny added. “So Harriet had no financial expectations that might have overcome her lack of beauty and charm in the minds of potential suitors.”

“Is it possible that in her entire life, no gentleman had ever so much as befriended her?” Holmes asked in astonishment.

Her parents exchanged a puzzled glance as they tried to recall and could not come up with a single candidate. I had begun to pity Miss Harriet Penny with all my heart.

When they failed to answer, Holmes said, “What sort of mood was Miss Penny in that morning?”

“Mood?” Penny asked, as if he were not familiar with the word.

“How strange you should ask,” Mrs. Penny said, obviously familiar with it. “She was quite cheerful that morning. I can’t recall the last time I saw her in such good spirits. Oh, wait, yes, I can. It was the time she beat Mr. Etheridge at chess.”

“Who is Mr. Etheridge?” Holmes asked with interest.

“He was a student from Princeton Seminary who served his internship at my church last year,” Penny said dismissively.

“He played chess with Harriet a few times while he was here. I believe he let her win,” Mrs. Penny confided. “Harriet was never very good at chess.”

“What became of Mr. Etheridge?”

“After he served his six months with us, he returned to the seminary.” Penny said. “We haven’t heard from him in almost a year.”

“And you are sure that Miss Penny had not made the acquaintance of any other gentlemen recently? Someone at your church, perhaps, who had befriended her of late?”

“Absolutely not,” Mrs. Penny said severely. “Harriet lived a quiet life. She did not go out in society like so many girls do today, and she had no interest in meeting gentlemen. As I told you, she had no wish to be married.”

“Yes, she had dedicated her life to your well-being,” Holmes re-called, and I must confess, I had to cough to keep from laughing out loud at his subtle sarcasm. Even Malloy had to rub his mouth to cover a smile.

The Pennys completely missed his barb.

“What could have become of her, Mr. Holmes?” Mrs. Penny asked with genuine concern. “Do you think-? I mean, the newspapers have said such horrible things.” She shuddered.