pleasant yet suave manner.
'I am Dr John Watson. This is Mr Sherlock Holmes. Won't you come in?'
The woman who advanced into the room was indeed Junoesque and stylishly dressed in a fur-trimmed coat of the colour that, I believe, was called cobalt blue, and a feathered hat perched somewhat coquettishly on Titian hair that owed more to the cosmetician than to nature. I perceived her to be a woman of fifty, whose features bore the remnants of a once-proud beauty.
Her companion was slim and dapper with dark lively eyes and a waxed moustache. He removed his Homburg to reveal a sleek, dark head.
'Mr Holmes, how kind of you to see me,' greeted the lady, warmly. 'I am Mabel Bertram. May I present Mr Aston Plush?'
Bows were exchanged and, standing well back, Holmes invited his visitors to take seats before the fire. Mr Plush preferred to stand with his back to the window so that he was almost in silhouette.
'Draw your chair closer to the fire, Mrs Bertram,' coaxed my friend. 'I observe you are shivering from the inclement weather.'
'It is not the chill that makes me shiver, but the anxiety caused by my dilemma.' She fixed her gaze imploringly on his face. 'You are my last hope, Mr Holmes.'
'Dear me!' After one swift scanning glance over her entire person, he leaned back in his armchair steepling his fingers against the shabby velvet front of his smoking-jacket and examining her face from eyes that were mere slits under his drowsy lids.
'You mentioned in your note you were concerned about the welfare of a relative. Pray go on.'
'To be precise, my stepmother. I am the eldest daughter of Sir William Abernetty by his first marriage. Upon the death of my mother he married Miss Alice Pemberton, a lady some ten years older than myself. There was a daughter from this second marriage, Sabina, and a son born posthumously, Charles. You may be amazed at my concern for my stepmother when she has two children of her own, but being so close in age we have always been on the best of terms. Until recently.'
'And what has happened to cause this rift?'
'Nothing!' burst out the lady. Restraining herself quickly, she went on. 'Nothing that I can account for. There's been no quarrel, no exchange of harsh words, yet Charles and Sabina have informed me in the plainest of terms that she refuses to see me. I should add here that Lady Abernetty is an invalid. Neither my half-brother nor sister are married and both reside with their mother in Grosvenor Square.'
Holmes raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. He had begun to look rather bored, but at the mention of the elite address he perked up a little. Nevertheless, he murmured, 'I fail to see what assistance I can be. As you say, you are not the lady's daughter and can lay no claim to her affections. She may see you or not as she pleases. Her children are no doubt following her instructions.'
'Hear me out, I implore you.' Mabel Bertram laid aside her muff and clasped agitated hands. 'I am not alone in being excluded from her door. My stepmother has suffered from an affliction of the lungs for many years and a doctor has been in constant attendance. Imagine my horror when I was informed by Dr Royce Miles that he no longer calls upon Lady Abernetty – at the request of her son Charles, and this after a professional attendance of many years.' Her lower lip trembled. 'Mr Holmes, I fear for my stepmother's life.'
My friend frowned. 'Have you reason to believe your brother and sister have anything but the most loving regard for their mother?'
Mabel Bertram coughed discreetly behind a lace-trimmed handkerchief. 'My stepmother has many admirable qualities, Mr Holmes, but I think it fair to say that with her children she was something of a Tartar. There was never any question of either Charles or Sabina marrying. Her formidable manner drove away any suitors or lady friends. Alice much preferred to have them at her own beck and call. Son and daughter have always been expected to stay close to home and Alice has always kept a tight grip on the purse-strings. Now I hear Sabina's been seen gadding about in new gowns and Charles has joined the Footlights Amateur Dramatic Society.'
'Dear me!' Holmes smiled in amusement.
'Mr Holmes, I fear my stepmother no longer has the power to influence her children.'
'Would that be such a bad thing?' asked my friend, quietly. 'Their indulgences seem innocent enough.' He suddenly lifted a piercing gaze to her companion. 'In what capacity do you accompany Mrs Bertram, Mr Aston Plush?'
The gentleman hesitated. 'As Mrs Bertram's legal adviser and friend.'
'You are a solicitor then?'
'Mr Plush handled my late husband's estate and before that his business affairs,' intervened Mrs Bertram. 'He has been kind enough to act for me in this matter.'
'I have written several letters expressing Mrs Bertram's concern and requesting access to her stepmother. Beyond
that my hands are tied. There is no legal way we can obtain admittance to the house on Grosvenor Square. Were we to force entry the Abernettys would be quite within their rights to summon the police.'
'I did enter the house through the servants' entrance on the first day I was refused admittance,' confessed Mrs Bertram, with a slight blush.
'You did not tell me this…' began the lawyer in a vexed tone.
'My dear, it was a humiliating experience. I was actually ejected by the butler. Charles and Sabina reacted with quite uncharacteristic hostility. Perhaps because I had seen evidence of their neglect of their mother.'
'Indeed, and what was that?' Holmes glanced at her keenly.
'It was Lady Abernetty's custom to have a roll with parsley butter for her breakfast every morning. The cook had obviously
prepared the tray, but there was the butter still standing on the table at noon with the parsley quite sunk into the butter. Alice always demanded a well-run, fastidious kitchen…'
'And when did this visit take place?' interrupted Holmes. 'On the first day of August.'
'And you have not seen Lady Abernetty since.' He returned his attention to Aston Plush. 'Did you receive any response to your correspondence?'
'Two letters, one from each of the children and each couched in similar terms, reiterating that their mother wished no further communication with Mrs Bertram. There was no cause for alarm concerning Lady Abernetty's health. Would Mrs Bertram please leave the matter as it stands?'
My friend returned his gaze to Mabel Bertram's face. 'But you feel you cannot do so…'
The lady leaned forward. 'I see I must confide in you my darkest fears. You may think me a fanciful, even hysterical woman, but I fear my stepmother has met with foul play. Only tell me this isn't so, Mr Holmes, and I will never intrude upon them again.'
'Of course there is also the matter of the Power of Attorney,' interjected Plush.
'Which has been given to the son?'
'Presumably.'
My friend was silent for several minutes, his eyes closed, while the lady continued to gaze at him beseechingly. Behind Mrs Bertram's chair, Mr Aston Plush stirred uneasily.
When Sherlock Holmes reached a decision about taking a case he often moved quite abruptly. He did so now, springing briskly from his chair. 'I will look into the matter for you.'
'Oh, Mr Holmes, you will find me so grateful.'
'And generous.' Mr Plush had come forward to assist his client from her chair.
She flashed him a glance before she lowered her veil.
'Hopefully you will hear from me within the week. Watson, the door.'
'How will you…?' she enquired timidly.
'My methods are my own. Good-day to you,' he returned, brusquely.
I ushered out the pair and returned to find Holmes filling his pipe from a tobacco pouch he kept in an old Turkish slipper on the mantelpiece.
'Well, what did you make of that,Watson?' he asked, smiling.
'It seemed to me a tawdry affair. But, of course, the lady's anxiety was genuine.'
My friend laughed softly. 'One of your most endearing qualities, Watson, is your naivete about the good in people.'
