She groaned and sank her face in her hands.
"You must see that this is so, madam. If your husband thinks fit to keepyou in the dark over this matter, is it for me, who has only learned thetrue facts under the pledge of professional secrecy, to tell what he haswithheld? It is not fair to ask it. It is him whom you must ask."
"I have asked him. I come to you as a last resource. But without yourtelling me anything definite, Mr. Holmes, you may do a great service ifyou would enlighten me on one point."
"What is it, madam?"
"Is my husband's political career likely to suffer through thisincident?"
"Well, madam, unless it is set right it may certainly have a veryunfortunate effect."
"Ah!" She drew in her breath sharply as one whose doubts are resolved.
"One more question, Mr. Holmes. From an expression which my husbanddropped in the first shock of this disaster I understood that terriblepublic consequences might arise from the loss of this document."
"If he said so, I certainly cannot deny it."
"Of what nature are they?"
"Nay, madam, there again you ask me more than I can possibly answer."
"Then I will take up no more of your time. I cannot blame you, Mr.Holmes, for having refused to speak more freely, and you on your sidewill not, I am sure, think the worse of me because I desire, evenagainst his will, to share my husband's anxieties. Once more I beg thatyou will say nothing of my visit." She looked back at us from the door,and I had a last impression of that beautiful haunted face, the startledeyes, and the drawn mouth. Then she was gone.
"Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department," said Holmes, with asmile, when the dwindling frou-frou of skirts had ended in the slamof the front door. "What was the fair lady's game? What did she reallywant?"
"Surely her own statement is clear and her anxiety very natural."
"Hum! Think of her appearance, Watson--her manner, her suppressedexcitement, her restlessness, her tenacity in asking questions. Rememberthat she comes of a caste who do not lightly show emotion."
"She was certainly much moved."
"Remember also the curious earnestness with which she assured us that itwas best for her husband that she should know all. What did she mean bythat? And you must have observed, Watson, how she manoeuvred to have thelight at her back. She did not wish us to read her expression."
"Yes; she chose the one chair in the room."
"And yet the motives of women are so inscrutable. You remember thewoman at Margate whom I suspected for the same reason. No powder on hernose--that proved to be the correct solution. How can you build on sucha quicksand? Their most trivial action may mean volumes, or their mostextraordinary conduct may depend upon a hairpin or a curling-tongs. Goodmorning, Watson."
"You are off?"
"Yes; I will wile away the morning at Godolphin Street with our friendsof the regular establishment. With Eduardo Lucas lies the solution ofour problem, though I must admit that I have not an inkling as to whatform it may take. It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance ofthe facts. Do you stay on guard, my good Watson, and receive any freshvisitors. I'll join you at lunch if I am able."
All that day and the next and the next Holmes was in a mood which hisfriends would call taciturn, and others morose. He ran out and ran in,smoked incessantly, played snatches on his violin, sank into reveries,devoured sandwiches at irregular hours, and hardly answered the casualquestions which I put to him. It was evident to me that things were notgoing well with him or his q
uest. He would say nothing of the case, andit was from the papers that I learned the particulars of the inquest,and the arrest with the subsequent release of John Mitton, the valet ofthe deceased. The coroner's jury brought in the obvious "Wilful Murder,"but the parties remained as unknown as ever. No motive was suggested.The room was full of articles of value, but none had been taken. Thedead man's papers had not been tampered with. They were carefullyexamined, and showed that he was a keen student of internationalpolitics, an indefatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist, and anuntiring letter-writer. He had been on intimate terms with the leadingpoliticians of several countries. But nothing sensational was discoveredamong the documents which filled his drawers. As to his relations withwomen, they appeared to have been promiscuous but superficial. He hadmany acquaintances among them, but few friends, and no one whom heloved. His habits were regular, his conduct inoffensive. His death wasan absolute mystery, and likely to remain so.
As to the arrest of John Mitton, the valet, it was a counsel of despairas an alternative to absolute inaction. But no case could be sustainedagainst him. He had visited friends in Hammersmith that night. The ALIBIwas complete. It is true that he started home at an hour which shouldhave brought him to Westminster before the time when the crime wasdiscovered, but his own explanation that he had walked part of the wayseemed probable enough in view of the fineness of the night. He hadactually arrived at twelve o'clock, and appeared to be overwhelmedby the unexpected tragedy. He had always been on good terms with hismaster. Several of the dead man's possessions--notably a small case ofrazors--had been found in the valet's boxes, but he explained that theyhad been presents from the deceased, and the housekeeper was able tocorroborate the story. Mitton had been in Lucas's employment for threeyears. It was noticeable that Lucas did not take Mitton on the Continentwith him. Sometimes he visited Paris for three months on end, but Mittonwas left in charge of the Godolphin Street house. As to the housekeeper,she had heard nothing on the night of the crime. If her master had avisitor he had himself admitted him.
So for three mornings the mystery remained, so far as I could follow itin the papers. If Holmes knew more he kept his own counsel, but, as hetold me that Inspector Lestrade had taken him into his confidence in thecase, I knew that he was in close touch with every development. Uponthe fourth day there appeared a long telegram from Paris which seemed tosolve the whole question.
"A discovery has just been made by the Parisian police," said the DAILYTELEGRAPH, "which raises the veil which hung round the tragic fate ofMr. Eduardo Lucas, who met his death by violence last Monday nightat Godolphin Street, Westminster. Our readers will remember thatthe deceased gentleman was found stabbed in his room, and that somesuspicion attached to his valet, but that the case broke down on anALIBI. Yesterday a lady, who has been known as Mme. Henri Fournaye,occupying a small villa in the Rue Austerlitz, was reported to theauthorities by her servants as being insane. An examination showed thatshe had indeed developed mania of a dangerous and permanent form.On inquiry the police have discovered that Mme. Henri Fournaye onlyreturned from a journey to London on Tuesday last, and there isevidence to connect her with the crime at Westminster. A comparison ofphotographs has proved conclusively that M. Henri Fournaye and EduardoLucas were really one and the same person, and that the deceased had forsome reason lived a double life in London and Paris. Mme. Fournaye,who is of Creole origin, is of an extremely excitable nature, and hassuffered in the past from attacks of jealousy which have amounted tofrenzy. It is conjectured that it was in one of these that she committedthe terrible crime which has caused such a sensation in London. Hermovements upon the Monday night have not yet been traced, but it isundoubted that a woman answering to her description attracted muchattention at Charing Cross Station on Tuesday morning by the wildnessof her appearance and the violence of her gestures. It is probable,therefore, that the crime was either committed when insane, or thatits immediate effect was to drive the unhappy woman out of her mind. Atpresent she is unable to give any coherent account of the past, and thedoctors hold out no hopes of the re-establishment of her reason. Thereis evidence that a woman, who might have been Mme. Fournaye, was seenfor some hours on Monday night watching the house in Godolphin Street."
"What do you think of that, Holmes?" I had read the account aloud tohim, while he finished his breakfast.
"My dear Watson," said he, as he rose from the table and paced up anddown the room, "you are most long-suffering, but if I have told younothing in the last three days it is because there is nothing to tell.Even now this report from Paris does not help us much."
"Surely it is final as regards the man's death."
"The man's death is a mere incident--a trivial episode--in comparisonwith our real task, which is to trace this document and save a Europeancatastrophe. Only one important thing has happened in the last threedays, and that is that nothing has happened. I get reports almost hourlyfrom the Government, and it is certain that nowhere in Europe is thereany sign of trouble. Now, if this letter were loose--no, it CAN'T beloose--but if it isn't loose, where can it be? Who has it? Why is itheld back? That's the question that beats in my brain like a hammer. Wasit, indeed, a coincidence that Lucas should meet his death on the nightwhen the letter disappeared? Did the letter ever reach him? If so, whyis it not among his papers? Did this mad wife of his carry it off withher? If so, is it in her house in Paris? How could I search for itwithout the French police having their suspicions aroused? It is a case,my dear Watson, where the law is as dangerous to us as the criminalsare. Every man's hand is against us, and yet the interests at stake arecolossal. Should I bring it to a successful conclusion it will certainlyrepresent the crowning glory of my career. Ah, here is my latest fromthe front!" He glanced hurriedly at the note which had been handed in."Halloa! Lestrade seems to have observed something of interest. Put onyour hat, Watson, and we will stroll down together to Westminster."