times, I deduce that she is deeply disturbed about something, and is endeavouring to reach a difficult decision. Although she has been gazing into the window of the bookbinder's shop
opposite for the past few minutes, it is unlikely that anything there is causing her such consternation. What else, then, but a client for Mr Sherlock Holmes?'
'Your reasoning is certainly sound, Watson – ah, but here comes the lady herself, to silence all doubt.'
She had indeed turned and, with an abruptness which signalled an end to indecision, crossed the road. We heard a ring of the bell and then a voice at the door, enquiring if Mr Holmes was at home, a signal which caused my friend to gather up the untidy papers and thrust them into his bedroom. He had exchanged his dressing-gown for a jacket when Mrs Hudson knocked at the door and announced, 'Mrs Cecil Forrester.'
The lady was middle-aged, yet her slim figure and graceful air gave her an air of youth that many a younger woman might have envied. She was well and fashionably dressed in a navy-blue costume which combined elegance with restraint. Her features were attractive, yet drawn with worry and fatigue, and there were still traces of indecision marked upon her countenance. She looked from one of us to the other, and my friend stepped forward.
'Mrs Forrester, I am Sherlock Holmes, and this is my friend and colleague, Dr John Watson. Pray take a seat, and tell us what difficulty brings you here.'
Our client took her seat in an armchair and Holmes sat opposite her. For a moment she remained silent, her eyes fixed on the rug and her hands twisting nervously in her lap. Then she took a deep breath, as one who steels herself for the worst, and looked up.
'Mr Holmes, I have come to you because I do not know what else to do, and there is no one else to whom I can turn. Over the past few weeks several items of value have disappeared from our home, and I need you to find the culprit.'
'Surely the police would be…,' began Holmes, but our client interrupted.
'The police have not the first idea as to the truth,' she said with some anger. 'My husband called them in at my urging, and all they have been able to do thus far is upset the staff and accuse my maid, Sarah, who I am sure knows nothing of the matter.'
'Perhaps,' said Holmes soothingly, 'you might explain to us exactly what has occurred, so that we may form an opinion.'
'Certainly, Mr Holmes.' She paused for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts, and then launched into her tale.
'My husband is the assistant manager of Williams and Ca, a firm of insurers in the City. He commands an excellent salary, and as I am not without some income of my own we live, quite comfortably, in a house in Camberwell. We were married twelve years ago, and all has gone smoothly with us until recently.
'My husband's business has increased a good deal in the past few months, and as they are short of staff at the moment Cecil has had to spend more time than usual in the City, so I have not seen him as much as I formerly did. It was two months ago that I first noticed something amiss. I was looking for a receipt in my husband's desk at home, and found that one of the drawers would not open properly. I managed to work it loose, and found that a box which had been placed at the back of it had jammed. I recognized the box as one which had contained a pair of gold and diamond cufflinks which I had given Cecil on his last birthday. The box was empty, and I thought that odd, as I knew Cecil wore the cufflinks on formal occasions only, and was hardly likely to wear them to work. I meant to ask him about them, but he was again late in arriving home. I had arranged to attend the theatre with friends and, as I was myself late in returning, the matter slipped my mind before I could mention it.
'Three weeks ago I noticed that a gold repeater watch he had inherited from his grandfather was missing from its case. I remembered, however, that it had not been striking properly, and Cecil said that he would have to have it cleaned and repaired. I naturally assumed that it was at the watchmaker's, and thought no more about it.
'It was last Wednesday when matters came to a head. I had planned to do some shopping in the afternoon, and then take tea with a friend, as it was the servants' half-day. I took a brooch out of my jewellery case before I left, and placed the case back in the drawer of my dressing-table. When I returned home and went to replace the brooch in the case, I noticed that the contents had been somewhat disturbed, and was horrified to find that a valuable emerald ring which had been in there had vanished. I
searched the case and drawer thoroughly, thinking that perhaps it had fallen out, but could not find it anywhere. The ring has great sentimental value to me, as it belonged to my mother, and I was terribly distraught when Cecil arrived home.
'He saw at once that something was wrong, and went dreadfully pale when I told him about the ring. However, he did his best to console me, saying that he was sure I had merely misplaced it, and that it would come to light soon. It was then that a terrible thought struck me. I remembered the empty box where the cufflinks should have been, and the missing watch. Could there be some connection with my missing ring?
'I asked Cecil if he had taken the watch to be repaired, and he seemed very surprised that I should ask. His surprise gave me all the answer I needed, and I told him what I had found. It seemed obvious to me that a thief had been at work, and I urged Cecil to call in the police. A policeman came out to the house the next day, and we soon discovered that other items were missing, such as a tie-pin and a gold snuff-box.'
Our client paused for breath. Holmes, who had been listening carefully to her tale, said, 'Your husband has been working long hours for some time, you said. For how long, exactly?'
Mrs Forrester looked somewhat surprised at the question. 'Really, Mr Holmes, I cannot see what that has to do with the matter.'
'Nevertheless, Mrs Forrester, I repeat the question. The smallest matter may have a bearing upon the case.'
'Well, it began in June, as far as I can remember.'
'And has continued until the present time?'
'Yes.'
'Have the hours remained unchanged?'
'No-no, he began working even later towards the end of August.' Mrs Forrester had appeared puzzled by the line of questioning, but now understanding broke over her face. 'I believe I see the reasoning behind your questions, Mr Holmes. You think that someone has been watching the house from outside, someone who has noted the long hours my husband works and knows when the house will be empty.'
'Possibly,' said my friend in a noncommittal voice. 'I cannot theorize before I have all my data. The items that have gone missing thus far – cufflinks, a watch, a tie-pin, a snuff-box – all have belonged to your husband?'
'All except my ring, Mr Holmes.' 'Quite so. Has anything else been missed?'
'No.'
'Yet you must have many more items of value. Has none of your other jewellery vanished?'
'No, Mr Holmes. I am sure I would have noticed.'
Holmes stretched in his chair. 'Surely the official force found no difficulty in seeing to the bottom of this affair, for if you will pardon my saying so it hardly seems complex.'
'Well, complex or no, Mr Holmes, the man accomplished little beyond turning our house upside-down before telling us that my maid, Sarah, was the most likely culprit, and that if he could search her belongings he was sure the missing items would be found.'
'Upon what did he base this conclusion?'
'He had been told that Wednesday was the servants' half-day, and he checked on their actions during the afternoon. We employ four servants – a cook, a housekeeper, a governess, and Sarah. The cook had been visiting her family, and they all confirmed that she had been with them for the entire afternoon. Mrs Lodge, our housekeeper, had spent her afternoon with a friend, and again it was proved that she had been away from the house for the entire time. Mary, our governess, had been out with the twins, who were attending the birthday party of one of their young friends, and her whereabouts are above question. Poor Sarah, however, had been feeling rather poorly, and had spent the afternoon in her room, resting. Of course, she had no proof of this, and the policeman fixed on this point, as he could see no signs of anyone from outside forcing an entry into the house.'
'That seems eminently reasonable, if a trifle mundane,' said Holmes. 'What makes you so positive that your maid is innocent?'
'Mr Holmes, Sarah has been with me for several years, and I know she would never do such a thing. The policeman thinks me foolish, I am sure, but I know that she is innocent, and I will not see her subjected to any
