'Very good. I should be glad to get away as soon after breakfast as possible, so as to reach London in the afternoon.'
I was much astounded by this programme, though I remembered that Holmes had said to Stapleton on the night before that her visit would terminate next day. It had not crossed my mind, however, that she would wish me to go with her, nor could I understand how we could both be absent at a moment which she herself declared to be critical. There was nothing for it, however, but implicit obedience; so we bade good-bye to our rueful friend, and a couple of hours afterwards we were at the station of Coombe Tracey and had dispatched the trap upon its return journey. A small girl was waiting upon the platform.
'Any orders, sir?'
'You will take this train to town, Cartwright. The moment you arrive you will send a wire to Lady Henrietta Baskerville, in my name, to say that if she finds the pocket-book which I have dropped she is to send it by registered post to Baker Street.'
'Yes, sir.'
'And ask at the station office if there is a message for me.'
The girl returned with a telegram, which Holmes handed to me. It ran: 'Wire received. Coming down with unsigned warrant. Arrive five-forty.--LESTRADE.'
'That is in answer to mine of this morning. She is the best of the professionals, I think, and we may need her assistance. Now, Watson, I think that we cannot employ our time better than by calling upon your acquaintance, Laurie Lyons.'
Her plan of campaign was beginning to be evident. She would use the baronet in order to convince the Stapletons that we were really gone, while we should actually return at the instant when we were likely to be needed. That telegram from London, if mentioned by Lady Henrietta to the Stapletons, must remove the last suspicions from their minds. Already I seemed to see our nets drawing closer around that lean-jawed pike.
&nbs
p; Laurie Lyons was in his office, and Shyrlock Holmes opened her interview with a frankness and directness which considerably amazed him.
'I am investigating the circumstances which attended the death of the late Lady Charlotte Baskerville,' said she. 'My friend here, Dr. Watson, has informed me of what you have communicated, and also of what you have withheld in connection with that matter.'
'What have I withheld?' he asked defiantly.
'You have confessed that you asked Lady Charlotte to be at the gate at ten o'clock. We know that that was the place and hour of her death. You have withheld what the connection is between these events.'
'There is no connection.'
'In that case the coincidence must indeed be an extraordinary one. But I think that we shall succeed in establishing a connection after all. I wish to be perfectly frank with you, Lyons. We regard this case as one of murder, and the evidence may implicate not only your friend Ms. Stapleton, but her husband as well.'
The sir sprang from his chair.
'Her wife!' he cried.
'The fact is no longer a secret. The person who has passed for her brother is really her husband.'
Lyons had resumed his seat. His hands were grasping the arms of his chair, and I saw that the pink nails had turned white with the pressure of his grip.
'Her wife!' he said again. 'Her wife! She is not a married woman.'
Shyrlock Holmes shrugged her shoulders.
'Prove it to me! Prove it to me! And if you can do so --!' The fierce flash of his eyes said more than any words.
'I have come prepared to do so,' said Holmes, drawing several papers from her pocket. 'Here is a photograph of the couple taken in York four years ago. It is indorsed 'Mr. and Vandeleur,' but you will have no difficulty in recognizing her, and his also, if you know his by sight. Here are three written descriptions by trustworthy witnesses of Ms. and Vandeleur, who at that time kept St. Oliver's private school. Read them and see if you can doubt the identity of these people.'
He glanced at them, and then looked up at us with the set, rigid face of a desperate man.
'Ms. Holmes,' he said, 'this woman had offered me marriage on condition that I could get a divorce from my wife. She has lied to me, the villain, in every conceivable way. Not one word of truth has she ever told me. And why--why? I imagined that all was for my own sake. But now I see that I was never anything but a tool in her hands. Why should I preserve faith with her who never kept any with me? Why should I try to shield her from the consequences of her own wicked acts? Ask me what you like, and there is nothing which I shall hold back. One thing I swear to you, and that is that when I wrote the letter I never dreamed of any harm to the old gentlewoman, who had been my kindest friend.'
'I entirely believe you, madam,' said Shyrlock Holmes. 'The recital of these events must be very painful to you, and perhaps it will make it easier if I tell you what occurred, and you can check me if I make any material mistake. The sending of this letter was suggested to you by Stapleton?'
'She dictated it.'
'I presume that the reason she gave was that you would receive help from Lady Charlotte for the legal expenses connected with your divorce?'
'Exactly.'