Once again back at Baker Street, now near midnight, we were surprised to find Mrs Hudson still awake. ‘That young lady, Mr Holmes. She would not stay. Insisted on returning to Cambridge, even at such a late hour. I tried to convince her.’
Holmes shook his head ruefully. ‘What folly! She endangers herself needlessly.’
‘Polly seems like a resourceful young lady,’ I offered.
‘You forget, Watson, the Spinning House. Cambridge at night is not safe for young women like Polly!’
‘Ah, yes, Holmes.’
Holmes had the Bradshaw in his hands. ‘We have missed the last train again! Oh, what a shame. Watson, to bed, quickly! We must be on the earliest train to Cambridge.’
As dawn broke the following morning Holmes and I found ourselves on a train bound for Cambridge with only a few hours’ sleep. We were both attired in our linen summer suits and the day promised no break in the weather. Cambridge, I knew, would be hotter even than London.
To Holmes’s extreme frustration, our train was delayed for nearly two hours due to an accident on the tracks and it was after ten when we arrived at our destination. We headed first to Dillie’s bolt-hole, hoping to find both girls there. No one answered the door. Once again, Holmes used his kit to open the lock and was dismayed to find the room had been emptied. There was nothing left of Dillie Wyndham’s that I could see.
But who had done this?
I have never known Holmes to curse but he came close to it that day, surveying the empty room. All of Dillie’s clothes had been removed from the closet, all the personal belongings packed up and taken away, with drawers left open, two clothes hangers on the floor, and a bedside table upended.
Holmes made a careful inspection, even as his fury was evident. I knew well enough to leave him to his work and not to interrupt him with questions. It was afterwards, in a carriage en route to the Wyndhams’ that he opened up to me.
‘Watson,’ said he, ‘I am not, as you know, a great believer in hunches. I prefer data – real, tangible data. That room provided very little. And yet I have a very bad feeling.’
‘Holmes, I know you. Surely there was something – a tiny clue, perhaps not even registered consciously that has given rise to this “feeling”?’
‘You may be right, but it is presently abstruse, Watson. And yet … I cannot shake my fear for Miss Wyndham at this moment.’
We pulled up to the front of the Wyndhams’ house. At eleven in the morning, the heat was already oppressive. I could feel the sweat running down my back.
‘Now,’ said Holmes as we dismounted the cab, ‘if only we would find Dillie here, healthy, spirited—’
‘—and slightly pugilistic,’ I inserted.
‘Ha! Yes, even that. But I fear we will not.’
Five minutes later we were seated in the parlour of the Wyndham family home awaiting the appearance of Mr and Mrs Wyndham. Into the room swept the ethereal Atalanta, looking even paler than before, but with a strangely triumphant smirk on her elfin face. A bright rose dress accentuated her pallor, giving her skin an almost greenish cast.
‘Well, the gentlemen from London,’ she drawled, posing in the doorway like a Greek statue. ‘You are days late for the engagement celebration. There might be the dregs of some champagne in the kitchen. It will have gone flat by now, but shall I ring for some anyway? You look parched.’
‘Miss Atalanta,’ said Holmes, ‘I take it Miss Odelia is not here. Have you seen her?’
Atalanta smiled and shook her head.
‘Is your maid Polly about?’
‘No. She went to see her mother. Or so she said.’ There was mockery in her tone. A nasty smile darkened her features.
‘When is she due back?’
‘Who knows?’
Holmes and I exchanged a glance. He did not like that news and neither did I.
‘Where does Polly’s mother live?’
‘Ask in the kitchen. I neither know nor care.’
‘Do you know where your sister is?’
‘Now, that is the question of the hour, isn’t it?’ said the irritating young woman. ‘I neither know—’
‘—nor care. Yes, indeed, Miss Atalanta you have made yourself abundantly clear on that point,’ said Holmes. ‘But the young lady seems to have disappeared.’
‘I found her hiding place, you know,’ said Atalanta. ‘After the engagement, she began to show the signs. Her “tell”, Freddie calls it. Something the card players like to say. I knew she was about to run and kept a careful eye, and when she made her break, I followed her there.’
‘I see. Did you confront her?’
‘To what end? No, I told our father. But by the time he …’ Her face darkened. ‘Well, by the time he believed me and we went there, Dillie was gone.’
‘You went there with your father this morning, then?’
‘Why? How do you know this?’
‘It is too bad your father did not listen to you earlier,’ said Holmes.
Atalanta shrugged, but I could sense the damaged girl under her practised coolness.
‘Where do you think she is now?’ asked Holmes.
‘I told you. I simply don’t care. My father has disowned her—’
At that moment Richard Wyndham strode into the room. It was as though there was a tide of invisible energy emanating from him, like the wake of a fast-moving ship, and his daughter backed away as if frightened of its impact.
‘Atalanta, leave us!’ he commanded, and the older daughter vanished. ‘What do you want?’ he asked Holmes.
‘I am concerned about your daughter, Odelia.’
Wyndham gave Holmes a peculiar, threatening look.
Holmes waited.
‘Yes, yes. She ran off. Again. Atalanta showed me where she had been hiding. But the damned little hussy has left there and … by God, if I get ahold of her, she—’ His breath caught, and he looked up. ‘But what is this to you? And what brought you here?’
‘I will get to that. Who cleaned out her rooms there?’ asked Holmes, meeting the man’s fury with his own cold anger.
‘I and my man did. How do you know they were cleaned out? We only did so a couple of hours ago. How did you get in?’
Holmes did not answer the question. ‘May I see her things?’
‘No.’
‘Professor Wyndham, your daughter may be in danger.’
‘Of her own making, then. If Odelia returns here, she will find no refuge. 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 said, equally outraged.
‘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.