Denis Smith - The Mammoth Book of the New Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes

‘Well,’ said he amiably. ‘State the little we do know, then, and let us see how matters stand.’

‘We know,’ I began, ‘that Edward Davenoke left Shoreswood the day before his wife returned. He has apparently gone to London, although no one can suggest any reason why he should do so. He has written to his wife from there, stating that he is staying in some small hotel or other, but all your resources have failed to find him. Other than that, all we have are on the one hand, the anonymous note you received, telling you in so many words to mind your own business, which may, however, have nothing whatever to do with the case, and, on the other, a young woman who has got herself into an emotional and fearful state over the squeaks and creaks of an ancient house.’

‘Capital!’ cried my friend, his eyes shining with amusement. ‘A very illuminating exposition of the matter, my dear fellow!’

‘But if you agree with me,’ I protested, ‘then what earthly good can be achieved by our running down to Suffolk?’

‘None whatever,’ said he, shaking his head.

‘What!’ I ejaculated.

‘Fortunately, however, I do not agree with you. When I described your exposition as illuminating, I meant merely that you summarised accurately all the false assumptions which one might make about the matter.’

‘Pray, tell me your own views, then,’ said I somewhat tartly, for there seemed to be in his voice a tone of superiority which irritated me.

‘In the first place,’ said Holmes, after a moment, ‘you state that we know: a , that Davenoke left Shoreswood the day before his wife returned; b , that he has apparently gone to London; and c , that he wrote to her from there; but in truth we know none of these things. The butler, Hardwick, drove him to the station, but we do not know for certain that he caught a train; and if he did catch a train, we do not know where he went. Lady Davenoke had only the butler’s word for it that her husband had gone to London, if you recall her account; no one else knew anything of it.’

‘The letter she received came from London,’ I remarked. ‘The postmark could not have been forged and she recognised her husband’s own handwriting.’

‘Certainly,’ said he; ‘I do not doubt that he wrote it. But you had a demonstration the other day that he who writes a letter and he who posts it are not necessarily one and the same.’

‘You believe that Davenoke wrote the letter elsewhere and had a confederate post it for him?’

‘It is a distinct possibility.’

‘Why should he do that?’

‘Because he does not wish anyone to know where he is. He would have succeeded in his deception, too, were it not for our intervention.’

‘You speak as if you know his true whereabouts,’ I remarked in surprise.

‘Oh, there is no mystery about that,’ said he. ‘He is at Shoreswood, of course.’

‘What!’ I cried. ‘You astound me, Holmes! I had no idea—’

‘Really? Nevertheless, the indications were there, Watson. Indeed, it has seemed the most likely solution from the very beginning. What business could Sir Edward’s father have in London, when, aside from his relatively brief period as a Member of Parliament, he seems to have had nothing to do with the place? Certainly the solicitor knew of none and he has handled the family’s affairs for over a quarter of a century. That does not, of course, render it impossible, but it does seem fairly unlikely, to say the least. Then there are the singular circumstances surrounding Davenoke’s leaving: why should the butler drive him to the railway station, when a groom is employed at the Hall? Taken along with the butler’s subsequent odd and evasive manner, it is a most suggestive point. You will recall also, no doubt, the curious business of the dog. Lady Davenoke was given a singularly unconvincing explanation of his being chained up away from the house; evidently the true reason for his confinement is that if he were left free to roam where he would, he could not have failed to sniff out his master’s whereabouts, and so reveal the whole deception for what it is.’

‘You have suspected all along, then, that Davenoke had not left Shoreswood?’

Holmes nodded his head. ‘But I could not at first be certain,’ said he. ‘Given the initial data, there were, it seemed to me, seven possible explanations of what was really afoot, some of them, I might mention, taking it as a fact that Davenoke was dead. However, the circumstances surrounding Lady Amelia’s visit to us, her return to Shoreswood, and the letters which we both received, served to clarify the matter.’

‘How so?’

‘In the first place, as you observed a moment ago, Lady Davenoke certainly recognised her husband’s handwriting upon the letter she received. This I took as an indication that he was still alive, for it is by no means as easy as it might be supposed to counterfeit someone’s hand throughout a letter of some length, especially when it is to be read by one who is very familiar with the true hand. But if the hand were true, the contents of the letter manifestly were not. His explanation of why he had no address at which she could reach him must rank as the feeblest lie I have ever encountered. Indeed, the only rival which springs to mind is the butler’s explanation for his presence at Wickham Market station when Lady Davenoke returned there with Miss Strensall. His story of an ailing brother in Yoxford, or wherever it was, was clearly the purest poppycock.’

‘How could you be so sure?’ I asked.

‘Taken with what we already suspected, it was simply too much of a coincidence to swallow. It seemed very evident that Hardwick had travelled down on the same train as the ladies and alighted quickly at Wickham Market before they themselves did so. If this were so, then no doubt it was Hardwick we saw in Baker Street, following Lady Davenoke. Her familiarity with his features accounts, of course, for his anxiety to keep them concealed beneath his unseasonal muffler. No doubt, also, it was Hardwick who posted in London the letter from Edward Davenoke, which his wife received after her return to Shoreswood, and, incidentally, the anonymous note we received at the same time. He probably enquired my name and business of some bystander, while he was waiting outside our rooms in Baker Street, and guessed his mistress’s purpose in consulting me. Whatever Edward Davenoke is up to, Hardwick is evidently his trusted lieutenant, fully conversant with the matter and able to act upon his own judgement, for the decision to write the warning note to me – presumably from the post office in the City where he posted his master’s letter – must have been his alone.’

‘It is certainly plausible, so far as it goes,’ I remarked.

‘It is the only theory that fits the facts,’ returned my colleague. ‘Davenoke’s presence at Shoreswood – in hiding – will of course go a considerable way to explain all the strange nocturnal comings and goings which have so distressed our client.’

‘But how could Sir Edward Davenoke be at Shoreswood and his wife not know of it?’ I protested.

‘You forget that he has lived there all his life, Watson. He must know of many places where he could remain hidden from view. In fact, however, I believe that he is in the secret chamber which we have heard so much about.’

‘But there is no evidence that such a chamber even exists in reality,’ I argued; ‘it may be mere myth!’

‘Possibly,’ replied Holmes; ‘but there are features about Shoreswood – or its occupants, at least – that make the existence there of a secret chamber rather more likely. The Davenokes were well-known recusants during the religious troubles of the sixteenth century and were often suspected of harbouring Catholic priests. From what we know of the family, I think it more than likely that they did so, and that they had some hidey-hole constructed for the purpose, if one did not exist already. Such priest-holes are a common feature in houses of the period, and the proximity of Shoreswood to the east coast would make it an ideal first staging-post for anyone arriving secretly from the Continent. Then there is the later tradition that Charles II was hidden at Shoreswood for a night: whilst that seems unlikely to be true, it may well be that one of the other Royalist leaders was sheltered there on his way to follow Charles abroad and that it was this which gave rise to the rumour.’