chilling precision to his speech. “Perhaps the only other person who knows of the matter will perish this very night.”
“It is not a very likely circumstance, is it, my lord?” my friend remarked evenly.
“So you may think,” his client snarled, “but you have underestimated my—”
“I am not so foolish as to have arranged this meeting in total solitude,” stated the detective. “My friend Dr. Watson has been good enough to accompany me.”
I emerged cautiously from behind the stony outcropping.
“So you have brought your spies!” cried the Baron. “You mean to ruin me!”
“You must believe, Lord Ramsden, that I have no intention of causing you the slightest harm,” Holmes protested. “My friend and I are prepared to swear that no word shall be breathed of this business to any living person, provided the ring is returned.”
“It is here.” The Baron placed his hand over his breast pocket. “But do you speak in earnest? It is incredible.”
“My little career would soon enough suffer shipwreck if I neglected my clients’ best interests,” my friend averred.
“Not the police, nor my family, nor any other person will ever hear of the matter now I have retrieved the ring? It is far more than I deserve.”
“They shall not on my account. I give you my word,” Holmes declared gravely.
“As do I,” I added.
“Then that is enough.” The Baron’s head fell forward as if in a daze, exhausted by his grief.
“It is not the first felony I have commuted, and I fear it is unlikely to be the last,” confessed my friend in the same calming tones.
“I shall be eternally grateful for your silence. Indeed, your discretion has been unimpeachable throughout this affair, which is far higher praise than I can apply to my own.”
“There I cannot agree with you,” Holmes began, but the Baron continued bitterly.
“Ellie died alone rather than betray my trust. What have I offered her in return?”
“Come, my lord. It is hardly practical to dwell on such matters. You acted in the interests of your family, and your secret is safe, after all.”
“No doubt you are right,” he whispered. “You may proceed to the house, gentlemen. It is over. I shall be more silent hereafter, you may trust.”
I had turned to go, but suddenly an inarticulate cry from Holmes swung me round again. The pistol fired just as Holmes, in a desperate leap, reached the Baron. My friend caught him round the torso and laid him on the frozen ground. I was beside them in an instant.
“Quick, man! He breathes—can you not—”
But Lord Ramsden had already passed beyond the aid of any man. As I loosened his collar, he emitted a low, shuddering sigh and was still.
“Holmes, he—”
“He is dead.” My friend passed a hand over the Baron’s eyes, his suavity of movement dulled in the shock of the tragedy. “If only I had—but Lord Ramsden would surely have revealed himself otherwise! No, no, Gregson is an ass, but he can see a brick wall when it is in front of him. Only I could have returned it in safety.” He descended quickly and removed a glittering band from the upper waistcoat pocket of the dead man.
“What he must have seen to retrieve it,” I muttered in horror.
“God help us, Watson.” My friend, though outwardly serene, was as shaken as I had ever before seen him. “I would not wish his history on any man.”
We knelt in silence under the black shadows of the trees, slowly growing cognizant once more of the piercing cold.
“What are we to tell them?”
“There, at least, our course seems clear,” Holmes considered. “You and I heard a shot from just beyond the grounds and, considering the hour, went to investigate. We found the Baron already beyond assistance. That is all.”
I nodded. “I suppose the pressures of financial ruin could account for suicide in a man of sensitive nature, but what of the ring?”
“As for the ring, I am prepared to go rather further,” Holmes replied softly. “The Baron thought his life a threat to his secret, and I have no intention of allowing his death to be one likewise.”
The grief which seized the household when we returned with our sad burden and raised the alarm was pitiable to behold. The lady of the house, in the loss of her eldest son, seemed to forget her mother’s ring had ever existed. Finding ourselves quite useless amid the chaos, we arose early the next morning to stop at the inn and bid farewell to Inspector Gregson and the constable he had brought from London to aid in the investigation; they had taken over a suite of rooms, using the simple parlour as an office. The inspector, in his own unique way, expressed considerable distress at our sudden departure.
“Well, well, you’re quite right, I suppose. Once you know a thing is over your head, you may as well act the man and own up to it. I intend to play the game to the end, though, Mr. Holmes. Simply not capable of leaving a case half finished with so much to go on.”
“You’ve unearthed fresh leads, then?” my friend responded coolly.
“Well, there’s that brother of the late Baron’s—a gambler and a rake, if you listen to my sources.”
“I hardly think it likely that—”
“And now this suicide!” Inspector Gregson proclaimed. “Under the circumstances, very black indeed.”
“How so?”
“Why, guilt! What does a man have to kill himself over if not guilt? Really, with all these developments, Mr. Holmes, if you remained, you might yet get a hint of what’s going on.”
“I have word of the gem in London.” Holmes shrugged one shoulder dismissively. “A stonecutter friend of mine has given me reason to return to the city, and I find the evidence meager enough here in Colwall to justify following this fresh lead.”
“Excuse me, sir,” interjected a voice from the side of the room. “Surely there is a great deal of evidence.”
Holmes swung his head to regard the young constable who had ventured this remark. “Do you think so?” he queried dryly. “I call solving a crime a near impossibility when one cannot even fix the date of occurrence within a twelvemonth.”
This retort elicited a chuckle from Gregson, who added, “Now, now, my boy, I brought you down so that you could watch a true professional in action. And Mr. Holmes here may have the odd tip as well. But you’d do better to listen, I think, and keep your opinions mum.”
The officer appeared unperturbed. “But what of the vandalized grass plot?”
“The grass plot?” Gregson laughed. “What can you see in that? As if gardening had anything to do with the matter!”
“I thought it rather queer myself, before I met the boys responsible,” Holmes said swiftly. “Yesterday a brief walk through your inn’s stable yard brought me into personal contact with young Fergus MacArthur and his several associates. They were busy rubbing the guests’ saddles with tallow while the groomsman lay snoring. If creativity alone ensured success in this world, that young gang would soon enough rule the Commonwealth.”
My friend rose gracefully and retrieved his hat from a small bench by the door. “I shan’t hesitate to forward you any news I may manage to unearth in London.”
“Ah, well. I have no doubt but that we’ll have solved the whole matter by the time we hear from you again, but despite that—my thanks.”
“Farewell, Inspector Gregson, and farewell to your staff. They are more promising than you realize.” Holmes gave a final nod and shut the door firmly behind us.
“Back to London,” I mused.
“Yes, Herefordshire has no further use for the two of us,” my friend replied. “However, I have every confidence of locating the ring through its mysterious buyer.” He patted his own breast pocket and the ghost of a smile appeared on his somber face.
We had not been long in London before Holmes telegraphed Lady Ramsden with the news that her mother’s
