decor and furnishings were of the most exquisite taste and quality, yet somehow there was a melancholy air about the place, a sense of slow and gradual decay. Notwithstanding this, one could still not fail to be impressed by the sheer scale and grandeur of a building, which at one time must have played host to dignitaries and ambassadors.
A tall, elderly butler, well into his seventies, answered our summons at the front door, alerted by our pulling on a large bell chain. He showed us through to a, relatively, small anteroom, where he left Holmes strumming his fingers impatiently on a marble mantelpiece and myself sitting pensively and uncomfortably on the edge of a large, ornate Regency chair, while he informed her ladyship of our arrival.
Holmes and I were somewhat surprised at the length of time we were required to wait for our summons, especially in view of the tone of urgency that had been evident at the end of Lady Beasant’s note. However, we both refrained from smoking in so confined a space, and Holmes resorted to pacing endlessly along the worn Persian rug, with his hands clenched tightly behind his back.
‘Her ladyship will see you now,’ the butler announced upon his eventual return, thus saving the rug from still further damage. He proceeded to shuffle slowly ahead of us, down an endless corridor, to the door of the drawing room, upon which he quietly knocked with a white-gloved hand.
The room into which we were then shown was surprisingly small and dimly lit, for that time of day, with the heavy curtains tightly drawn. It was almost as if the room’s sole occupant was reluctant to show herself clearly to us. In that she was undoubtedly successful, though her motives for so doing were, as yet, unclear. It was discernible that the lady was quite tall and that despite her great age still held the bearing of one of her class and creed. However, her features and eyes were almost pale shadows, and at no stage of our interview did either betray her thoughts or emotions. She was seated in a high-winged chair and she waved us, casually, to a pair of low, arm less seats positioned several feet away from her. When she spoke it was in a clear, light whisper.
‘Oh, gentlemen,’ she began, barely suppressing a laugh at our obvious discomfort, ‘we shall not be too formal today. I shall require your assistance and advice and, therefore, should be glad if you would concentrate on my predicament, not on your etiquette. Pray smoke if you wish, also. There is nothing you could ignite that would be more obnoxious than my late husband’s infernal Indian cigars. If you feel you must address me formally, please use “madam” and not “your ladyship.” The latter is too tiresome and would certainly waste much of your valuable time.’
‘Thank you, madam,’ I acknowledged, while taking my seat. I declined her invitation to smoke and readied my notebook and pencil.
Holmes, on the other hand acknowledged her words by eagerly lighting a cigarette, and declined the offer of the chair by moving it to one side, perching himself instead on the edge of a windowsill to the lady’s right.
‘Madam,’ Holmes began, ‘as my friend Doctor Watson here will readily confirm, I shall have no difficulty at all in laying etiquette to one side. The vagaries of social mannerisms have always been and still remain mysteries to which I have no desire to find a solution. As to my advice and assistance, you are very welcome to both.’
‘Bravo, sir! It is rare to find a man who can speak so frankly and honestly to a lady of my rank and station,’ Lady Beasant declared.
I could sense Holmes’s growing agitation and impatience and politely interceded on his behalf.
‘Madam, although my friend is too modest to make such claims on his own behalf, I should point out that he counts dukes and royalty amongst the array of clients who have employed his services in the past.’
‘Of that I am in little doubt,’ Lady Beasant replied. ‘I value amongst my closest friends Colonel Sir James Damery, a dear gentleman for whom, I understand, you once performed a most stirling service. Although a man of great honour, indeed he would not divulge one iota of detail concerning that matter, he did inform me that you are a man who will stop at nothing to uphold justice, that you even jeopardized your own life in his cause. I also understand that your own discretion is beyond reproach.’
Holmes bowed awkwardly in acknowledgement. ‘Sir James’s role in that affair, concerning a most illustrious client, should not be underestimated either. Were it not for his intervention I might even now be languishing within the confines of Her Majesty’s less salubrious, accommodation! It is true to say, however, that the case had a most satisfactory conclusion and that one of Europe’s most dangerous criminals was rendered harmless as a result I might add that you may expect the same level of discretion from both myself and my colleague here, Dr Watson.
‘Now, madam, in the most exact and concise terms, please outline the circumstances and events that have led you to seek my assistance and advice upon this matter. Perhaps you might begin by explaining why you have arranged your curtains and lighting in such a way as to render your features as almost invisible to us?’
‘That is easy enough to explain, Mr Holmes, although it embarrasses me enough to do so. However, to establish a level of frankness and honesty, between us, I shall tell you in spite of that. Because you have the language and manners of a bohemian, yet possess the cynicism of a detective, I am sure you suspect me of shielding my features because there are aspects of what I am about to tell you that I do not wish you to fully understand. The truth of the matter, however, is that the sudden and heartbreaking demise of my dear husband manifested itself in large, unsightly red eruptions upon my skin, which it pains me to reveal to others. Therefore, even at the risk of arousing your suspicions, we shall continue to suffer this unsatisfactory light. If you do not wish to continue on that basis I shall bid you a good day, sir!’ Lady Beasant concluded defiantly.
Holmes waved her remarks aside. ‘That will not be necessary, madam. Pray proceed.’
With a rustle of her silk skirt, Lady Beasant adjusted her seating position, and sipped from a glass of water, which she then replaced on to a small rosewood table next to her chair. Her delay indicated that the imparting of the information that she wished us to hear would prove to be painful to her. Nevertheless, she persevered.
‘Gentlemen, at the outset, I must inform you that my late husband was a most kind and devoted spouse and that not once during the twenty-six years of our marriage did I have cause to regret even one of them. He was a true and honourable gentleman and conducted himself accordingly in every aspect of our lives … save one. His judgement, when it came to conducting our business affairs, was appalling! I should explain that it was only necessary for us to become involved in any sort of commercial dealings because the estate that we had inherited from my father-in-law, the baronet, was considerably smaller than we had been led to expect.
‘We were therefore left with a simple choice. We could either sell up the almost derelict house in which you now find yourselves, and give up the way of life we had both enjoyed for many years, or sell off our neglected farming estate in Yorkshire. As I am sure you now observe, we chose the latter course, with a view to reinvesting the funds that it realized, in a more lucrative commercial venture. One that, we had hoped, would be profitable enough to enable us to maintain our current life style here in London.
‘Our solicitor and adviser, approved of our proposal, although an independent appraisal of the estate in Yorkshire did indicate that under efficient management the farm could soon be returned to making a handsome profit. However, neither my husband nor I could envisage ourselves living or enjoying the life of the Northern landed gentry, and we would not be swayed from our decision.’
‘The name of your solicitors would be…?’ Holmes briefly interrupted, while Lady Beasant took a sip of her water once more.
She delicately touched her lips with a small embroidered handkerchief, before replying.
‘The firm is Collins, Brinkblatt and Collins of Cheapside, although our affairs were handled personally by the elder Nicholas Collins himself.’
Holmes indicated that I should make an entry of this in my notebook, which I duly did.
‘Thank you, madam,’ I said. ‘I presume that your husband next conducted a search for a viable alternative for your investment?’ I noticed a glance of surprised approval from Holmes at my subtle prompting of her ladyship for, although there is no indication of it, within my narrative of this interview, each and every word and sentence was laboriously slow and deliberate in its forthcoming. Raising her eyebrow suspiciously in my direction, Lady Beasant continued:
‘Yes, Dr Watson, he certainly did, although it was not until he engaged in conversation with a certain member of his club that his search bore any fruit.’ Lady Beasant paused for a moment while she conducted a barely discernible yet clearly painful struggle with the kind of emotions a lady of her class would have been most loath to expose to anyone, least of all an amateur detective and a common army surgeon. This struggle she clearly lost.
‘Oh! I curse the day that poor Edwin ever encountered the evil genius of Baron Maupertuis!’ she wailed uncontrollably. The effort had surely rendered her breathless for a moment, and I rushed to her side with a glass of
