Chapter 20

“Sherlock,” I said, “You told me that you had a lead on Sir Gray’s case.”

“Hopkins told me that Hopgood, the professor at Oxford, disappeared around the same time as Cecil Gray. I went to Oxford. No one knows where he went.”

“I see,” I whispered.

When we arrived at the lodgings of Kate Dew, another young woman greeted us at the door with a toddler in her arms. We asked for Kate and the woman directed us to a lodging house around the corner. She said Kate was an excellent cook and that she was fixing a meal for a sick friend.

We hurried there; in fact, Sherlock’s long stride was so quick that Wiggins and I could barely keep up. When we found the windowless cellar house, we knocked on the door and the woman who answered looked gaunt and sickly. We asked for Kate and received a half-hearted response and a wave toward the stove. It was not like some lodgings I’d heard about. No rats swarmed the floor, no meagre rations of water were passed around. There was a stove for heat and cooking, the floor was covered with a colorful rug, the dinner table had a cloth and cutlery and, for the most part, the family seemed full-faced and jovial.

I called to Kate and she turned abruptly. Her face flushed and she dropped the wooden spoon she had been using to stir a pot. She wiped her hands off on her apron and rushed toward us. She motioned us to go outside.

“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” she demanded.

Rarely one for small talk, Sherlock said curtly, “You are Kate Dew, daughter of the former Deputy Swan Keeper who died a few years ago.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what you are talking about. Who are you?”

“I am Sherlock Holmes and I am here to find the truth.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” she repeated. “Please leave.”

I took Kate’s hands in mine. “Kate, tell us the truth. Were you the daughter of the Queen’s assistant swan keeper? Was Cecil Gray your daughter’s father? Is that why you were forced to leave Her Majesty’s service?”

“You need to leave me alone,” she whispered but tears were starting to drip from those haunted blue eyes.

“Have you been killing Her Majesty’s swans to get even?” Sherlock pressed.

“Stop it, Sherlock,” I warned. I turned again to Kate. “Please, Kate. There is more to this than swans, isn’t there? You do know that Cecil Gray is dead. That someone killed him. You told me that you were assaulted because you saw something you shouldn’t. What did you see, Kate? Did you witness his demise?”

Sherlock piped up again. “You are in very serious trouble, Miss Dew, if you have slaughtered Her Majesty’s swans.”

“Sherlock!” I protested.

“But,” he added quickly, “We can protect you from that. You must tell us what you saw.”

She paced back and forth, wringing her hands and crying.

“The authorities will take away your daughter, Miss Dew,” Sherlock said.

“The authorities! My daughter will be killed if I say anything to anyone!”

I put my hand on her shoulders. “Kate, please. It’s time to tell the truth.”

Kate bid her friends good night and walked with us toward her lodgings but said not another word. Finally, just before we got to where she lived, she said, “All right. But you must promise me this. My daughter Mary will be taken care of, no matter what happens. Will you swear this to me? Dr. Stamford, if you swear, I shall believe you.”

Before I could respond, Sherlock intervened. “I promise you that nothing will happen to you or your daughter.”

She leaned against the brick wall next to the door and slid down until she collapsed on the pavement. I bent over. “Kate, please.”

Between sobs, she choked out the entire story.