Paul Gilbert - The Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes

‘He eventually confronted us in the garden house, where we had arranged our latest clandestine meeting. Although it is now too late for discretion, I will only say that he discovered us at a moment when the reason for our meeting could not have been explained away or denied. Francisco would never address a word to me again.

‘To his great credit he displayed neither disappointment nor emotion. He threw me to the floor as I beseeched him for forgiveness and strode purposely towards Persano, who stood his ground. They stood toe to toe, almost as mirror image, so close were they in appearance to each other. Neither spoke a word and then, to my great horror, Francisco struck Persano across his cheeks. The malicious grin with which Persano met this attack, indicated that he understood this to be a challenge to a duel.

‘Persano’s reaction to Francisco’s attack can best be understood when you realize that Persano was as proficient with his sabre as he was with his pen. My poor husband’s act of valour was nothing less than committing suicide, yet we all knew that he could not continue to live without his honour.

‘The outcome of their confrontation was mercifully as swift as it was inevitable. As the challenged, Persano was able to choose the time, place and weapon. He chose dawn the following day, on an area of flat ground close to a small, mist-shrouded arroyo, a short ride from the city and, of course, he chose the sabre. With Diego as his second my Francisco would not flinch from what he saw as his duty and bravely stood his ground. I could not bear to be present, but I could see the outcome from a distance, through a chink in a covered carriage waiting above the arroyo. Out of respect for Francisco’s valour, Persano parried Francisco’s initial clumsy lunge and dispatched him with a single thrust to the heart.

‘I sobbed uncontrollably for what seemed to be an eternity and yet remained within my carriage to receive Persano. To my horror he and his second merely rode silently past my carriage without giving me a single glance. He would not disgrace Francisco’s act of honour by acknowledging the cause of his death. Diego’s reaction was even more terrible for he did ride up to my carriage and then raged and cursed me in the most awful terms imaginable!

‘Diego would not return to the consulate and although I would never see him again, the hatred and vileness of his words will remain with me forever.

‘After Francisco’s funeral, which was attended by all the local dignitaries, I spent the next few weeks in packing up all our possessions while I awaited instructions from Madrid. During all that time I heard not a word from Persano and I shrouded myself in a cloak of guilt and remorse.

‘At last I received a message from an acquaintance of mine, who worked for The Times in London, that Persano had refused to dispatch another word from Guahanna and had fled to London where he had become a virtual recluse. The Spanish government had arranged for our things to be shipped to my family home, close to Cordoba, while I, with a single maid and a small trunk, headed for London.

‘It is still not clear to me what my true intention was, once I had decided to follow Persano to London. Part of me wanted to believe that I wished to absolve him of all guilt for the slaying of my husband, for he was as much a man of honour as my husband had been. Yet, a part of me also knew that I still longed for the warmth and passion of his embrace and the soothing tones of his voice.’

Sensing that Holmes’s mood was darkening with an edgy, frustrated embarrassment, I now felt compelled to interrupt Doña Dolores’s enthralling narrative. I should also point out here that Holmes had already explained to her the nature of Persano’s malaise, as a means of securing this interview.

‘Doña Dolores, never before have we heard a more honest, heartfelt account of personal tragedy and we are grateful for that. However, in order for us to alleviate Persano’s present plight, it is important that you explain the outcome of your meetings with him here in London. We understand that you have visited him on more than one occasion. I trust that our information is correct?’

I observed Holmes smile at me out of gratitude, and we each lit another cigarette as we awaited her reply. We knew that our allotted thirty minutes had been reached because the maid suddenly reappeared. However, she was soon dispatched again, with as much ‘charm’ as when she had been originally summoned. The maid bustled nervously from the room and Doña Dolores turned to us once more.

‘Your information is correct, Señor and, to my eternal shame, it is true that twice I visited his room and twice I found this once magnificent man now so consumed with guilt and remorse that he could barely bring himself even to look upon me. Guilt for having betrayed the trust of a man to whom he had pledged and given his support, remorse for having slain this same man so callously, by a means masquerading as a duel. Only his misguided code of honour could have induced him to perform such a deed and this, he swore, he would now renounce. He would, henceforth, pledge himself to a life of abstinence, devoting his gift of literacy to promote goodly deeds.

‘Twice I beseeched him to reconsider his pledge, attempting to rekindle memories of the special time that we had been granted and twice he gently pushed me aside. It was not that he blamed me for that which had occurred, although all the saints know that he should have done, but because his new life held no place for a woman such as I. He spoke with such clarity and sincerity that on my second visit I promised never to return. Even now I am packed and ready to return to Cordoba, although I will not embark until I am certain that Isadora has been restored to health.’

I could sense that Holmes deplored the wretched role that Doña Dolores had played in the tragic events unfolded in her narrative. Nevertheless, when he next addressed her it was in his gentlest of tones.

‘Doña Dolores, you have already mentioned Persano’s guilt-ridden state of mind, yet he also appears to have spoken with remarkable clarity. Was there anything in his manner or appearance that left you feeling anxious for his mental well-being?’

‘Señor Holmes, although his words were not those of my Isadora of old, they were spoken with a calm serenity. I left his rooms feeling distraught and disappointed, but I did not feel anxious for him.’

‘One final question then, if you would permit, Doña Dolores?’ Holmes asked as I was closing my book. ‘Please think back carefully before you give your answer. Were there any unusual objects or artefacts in Persano’s room, that seemed out of place or inexplicable?’

A look of annoyance flashed across the lady’s face at the mere suggestion that her answer would be anything other than accurate. However she did Holmes’s bidding and certainly took her time before replying. Sadly, though her answer was in the negative. She shook her head emphatically and rang her small bell once more, indicating that our time with her was at an end.

‘I cannot assist you any further, gentlemen. I implore you, however to inform me of any news that you may be able to gather. Adios !’ She turned away from us suddenly and immediately began to scold the poor maid who had just responded to the summons of the bell. We made a hurried, unceremonious exit and a few moments later were seated in a cab bound for Scotland Yard.

Despite the unsatisfactory conclusion to the interview Holmes appeared to be surprisingly animated once we got under way. He rubbed his hands together excitedly and inclined towards me whilst leaning upon his bony knees.

‘So, Watson, you are certainly the undoubted expert when it comes to the behaviour of the fairer sex. Would you say that the intimidating Señora was telling the truth?’