Thursday morning arrived and, until then, little had been said regarding our rendezvous with Miss Charlotte. Holmes was seated in his armchair and I could not help but notice that he had been spending some considerable time reading the society pages of several newspapers.
I must confess that I was somewhat intrigued by this occurrence as the society pages were something I knew Holmes disliked with a vengeance. Indeed, he had been known to rip these pages from his newspaper and hurl them across our sitting room in disgust. However, I suspected that his sudden interest had been to seek some intelligence as to Madame Duval’s activities and I was curious to know what he had determined.
Holmes was already enjoying his second pipe of the day and I thought it an opportune moment to satisfy my curiosity. "Holmes, old fellow, are you any the wiser regarding Madame Duval?" I asked, in all innocence.
Holmes looked towards me and I am sure that he could see the mischief in my face. "Yes, she appears to be a particularly gregarious lady and seems to have a very wide circle of acquaintances. Her tea parties are often detailed in the so called 'society pages'. Despite the liberal sprinkling of poseurs, there are mentions of the wives of some particularly interesting gentlemen. These, I note, include ambassadors, statesmen, leaders of industry and even some minor royals from the Continent."
I nodded, seeing now the value of the time spent on this apparently abhorrent task.
It was a little after 3 p.m. when there was a gentle knock at our sitting room door and Mrs Hudson appeared with a young lady at her side. Upon looking at our visitor, I noted that she appeared to be aged around 18 years and was dressed smartly, but plainly, in the clothes of a domestic servant. Holmes rose and shook the young lady’s hand, as did I, as we were both introduced to Miss Charlotte May Chalmers. Our guest sat and it was clear that she was a little nervous in our company but, after a little small talk and the arrival of the tea tray brought by her aunt, she visibly relaxed.
Holmes sat back and sipped his tea, asking, "Tell me Charlotte, what happened last week when Mrs Duval's guest was taken ill?"
Charlotte put down her teacup and began to recount the events. "Well sir, there were three other ladies who had been invited for tea. They were all seated in the salon and I had brought up the tea tray as Madame had rung for it."
Holmes nodded. "Was there anything different about the room or the guests that you noticed?"
Charlotte thought for a moment before replying, "No, sir. I saw nothing amiss, it was as always. I placed the tea tray on the sideboard next to Madame's diary and returned to the kitchen."
I noticed that Holmes had now moved slightly forward in his chair and had his forefinger slightly raised. "You did not serve the tea?"
Charlotte shook her head. "No sir, it was as usual. I brings up the tea and Madame's pot of coffee and she pours the tea for her guests."
Holmes again nodded, asking, "Was any food served?"
Charlotte smiled, saying, "Just a few biscuits, sir. Cook had made them specially that morning. She made a couple extra and she and I had one with our tea. Oatmeal, they was."
"Tell me, Charlotte. Does Madame always drink coffee? Does she not like tea?" asked Holmes, with a glint in his eye.
Shaking her head, Charlotte replied, "Oh, no sir, she drinks tea but, when she has guests of an afternoon, she always drinks coffee... I think it's because she is a foreign lady."
Holmes sat back and seemed to consider this before asking, "Who was present when the lady was taken ill?"
Charlotte frowned as she thought back to the day in question and began counting off the guests with her fingers. "Well sir, there was Mrs Van Burren, she's a Dutch lady, Mrs Holcroft from Greenwich, Lady Stevens... and, of course, the one that was taken poorly, Mrs Mayfield, she's from Harrow. I know where they live sir because I have, on occasion, had to hail a cab for them."
I had already taken out my small notebook from my waistcoat pocket and quickly noted down the names. Whilst Holmes’ memory was excellent, mine, I fear, was not.
Holmes edged forward slightly, asking, "And what happened when Mrs Mayfield was taken ill?"
Charlotte looked quite excited as she began her tale. "Well sir, the bell in the kitchen was ringing like it was going to fall off the wall! I rushed upstairs and found Madame trying to comfort Mrs Mayfield who was greatly distressed. Mrs Mayfield was trying to climb on a chair. She said that she could see tigers roaming around in the room. She was off her head, sir!"
Holmes was keenly alert, his eyes bright as he asked, "What of the other ladies?"
I looked to Charlotte. She now had a puzzled expression upon her face. "Now that's the funny thing, sir. They all looked quite calm, serene, you might say. They never turned a hair, even when Mrs Mayfield was in such a state that she had to be taken to another room to wait for the doctor."
Holmes nodded and drained his tea, saying, "Well, thank you, Charlotte. It was a great pleasure to meet you."
Charlotte stood and asked, "Would you like me to take the tea tray back downstairs to my aunt, sir? I know the way."
Holmes nodded and smiled, saying, "That would be most kind. Dr Watson and I have some matters to discuss."
Charlotte bobbed in a little curtsy and gathered the cups before disappearing with the tea tray.
Holmes appeared troubled and had begun to pace, a clear sign of his concern. "What is it, Holmes? Do you suspect foul play?" I asked.
He did not answer at first, his thin face showing furrowed brows. "It is a combination of factors that is leading me to believe so. I need some little time to consider all that we have heard this morning."
With that, Holmes returned to his armchair, drew up his knees and entered that contemplative state where his only companions were to be his tobacco and briar pipe. I had some business at my practice so I left Holmes to his thoughts.
Upon my return for dinner, I found Holmes draped in his old dressing gown in our sitting room engrossed in a book which, on further inspection, I found to be entitled “The Principles of Flight”. The book cover showed an illustration of Icarus soaring heavenward on his feathered wings towards an unforgiving Sun. I felt the need for a little gentle leg pulling so I remarked, “Ha, so the fantasy of a man flying has overtaken you too then, Holmes!”
Holmes slowly lowered the book, saying in a chiding voice, “It is not fantasy, Watson. The science relating to heavier than air flight is clearly there. We are simply constrained by the materials to hand and the limits of our currently imperfect knowledge of the physics of flight. Powered, manned flight will come...and soon.”
Holmes once more raised the book, the plume of blue smoke emanating from behind its cover showing evidence of Holmes’ continued concentration. In truth, I felt a little slighted. My intention had been to tease but I had ended up a little bruised and battered from my endeavours.
I sat and sought some solace from reading the morning's edition of 'The Times'. I flicked idly through the dense print when suddenly a headline leapt out at me. “Good Lord, Holmes! Listen to this… 'French daredevil to take to the skies'. On Saturday, this week, at 11a.m., weather permitting, Mr Claude Duval of Portman Square is to attempt to fly his glider, 'The Damselfly', from Betsom's Hill Fort in Bromley. His previous attempt in August saw him glide for over eighty feet. The public is invited to attend, with admission for adults at sixpence, children under 12 years, twopence.”
Holmes’ book slammed shut and I jumped at the sudden sound. Looking up, I saw Holmes’ beaming face. “Then we must not disappoint Mr Duval, Watson. We must have our shilling at the ready!” Taking out his notebook, I saw him dash off a telegram before ringing the bell vigorously for Mrs Hudson.