by John Hall
Miss Windlass stood up and went into an inner room. I stared at Holmes. ‘You have evidently formed your own view of all this,’ I said, ‘but I fear –’ A loud crash from the inner chamber made me stop.
Holmes raced to the door and threw it open. He groaned aloud. ‘Too late, Watson! I blame myself,’ he added, as I looked over his shoulder at the inert form of Miss Windlass. ‘I should have foreseen this. Though perhaps it is for the best.’
‘Do not be so harsh with yourself, Holmes,’ I told him. Then added, ‘But I think we had best leave, before anything more happens.’
Eleven
‘It seems pretty clear what happened,’ said Holmes, as we made our way to Dr Longton’s study. ‘An attractive older woman, a young man away from home. The old story. And I have little doubt that some of the older boys were also encouraged by Miss Windlass. Although you will perhaps wish to let your readers think that it was all very romantic and harmless.’
‘You don’t know that it wasn’t, Holmes!’ said I. ‘No need to besmirch the lady’s name without knowing all the facts.’
‘You may well be right,’ said he.
I may add that Holmes subsequently searched the rooms of the three principals, and questioned such of the rather scared pupils as would admit to being members of the society. As he had thought, Donaldson’s object had been to gain the confidence of such boys as seemed likely to rise to positions of influence – not a difficult task, given the exclusive nature of the school and the family backgrounds of the pupils – and influence them to work against Britain’s interests. A mixture of persuasion and blackmail had been used, and other methods which I shall not mention here. Holmes did not reveal, even to me, the foreign power for which Donaldson and the others had worked, but the information he gleaned was passed on to those in authority, and more than one treaty was nullified and more than one ambassador was recalled shortly after. And I fancy that one or two unexplained suicides might also be put down to this investigation, though that is mere speculation on my part.
For the moment, though, we had some explaining to do to the mystified headmaster. ‘That little wretch Carstairs fooled me completely,’ I told Dr Longton bitterly. ‘For a time I even suspected that you were at the bottom of it!’
‘Not to mention Mr Tromarty, Herr Wieland, et al, Watson,’ murmured Holmes at my elbow.
‘Now, now,’ said Dr Longton, laughing. ‘I am not too surprised you were fooled, Doctor, for I was myself.’
‘I see now, of course, that he cleverly told me only a part of the truth,’ I went on.
Dr Longton nodded. ‘The Whitechurch matter was entirely a concoction of Carstairs’s and Donaldson’s making. Carstairs came to me apparently in some distress, saying that he had brought the week’s money to my study, but I was not there. He therefore left the cash on my desk, and went out of the room, subsequently leaving his own room as well. Suddenly, he told me, he recollected that the money was still there, and ran back, to find to his horror that twenty-five pounds had vanished. Well, you can imagine my own consternation. But then Donaldson came along, said he’d been to see me and I wasn’t in, but he’d spotted Lord Whitechurch leaving my room, looking guilty. Of course, I never doubted for a moment what had happened, and acted accordingly.’
‘Carstairs took the notes himself, put them in the boy’s room,’ I said. ‘The object being, of course, to discredit young Lord Whitechurch, so that even if he mentioned the secret society – and that was unlikely, considering the circumstances under which he left the school, the cloud of suspicion and what have you which hung over the poor lad – had he spoken of it, still he would not be believed.’
Holmes nodded. ‘Of course, they relied on you, Dr Longton, not to give their names, out of a sense of honour.’
‘Honour!’ groaned Dr Longton.’ I have slandered an innocent boy, perhaps ruined his future completely.’
‘Come, now,’ said Holmes. ‘It is not so bad. You have but to reinstate him to gain a reputation for fairness as well as firmness. As for the lad himself, he will dine out on the story for the rest of his days!’
‘As will my two namesakes,’ I added. ‘But then what of poor Greville?’ I asked Holmes.
‘Oh, I think that is pretty obvious. He had suspected something, or someone. Probably not Carstairs, I imagine, or he would never have met him as he did. No, probably Greville had some suspicions of Mr Donaldson, let us venture, but he naturally did not wish to approach you, Dr Longton, with vague tales about a much older man. He therefore spoke to Carstairs, as being the only man of about his own age and outlook. He might, of course, have spoken to Reed, who is about the same age as well, but then Reed is married, with responsibilities, and lives out of the school. No, Carstairs was the logical choice.’ He sighed. ‘Poor devil! Had he spoken to Reed, or to just about anyone else, of course, all would have been well. As it was, Carstairs encouraged him, as I imagine, arranged the mysterious midnight meeting, very likely drugged the whisky – Miss Windlass keeps the key to the medicine cupboard, remember. Then I think it likely that Carstairs and Miss Windlass between them took the half-drugged Greville into the tower, assisted him to climb the stairs, for he would be heavy to carry up there, and – well, we know the rest.’
There was a moment’s silence. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘I promised to take one last lesson, and with your permission, gentlemen, I shall do so.’
‘Yes,’ said Dr Longton, ‘your pupils await you, Dr Watson.’ He hesitated. ‘In some sense, sir, I shall not be sorry to see you go. But yet I have appreciated your efforts, and could wish that circumstances had been otherwise.’
I nodded, and took my leave. As I left the room, Holmes said, ‘I shall see you tomorrow in Baker Street, Watson.’
I sought out my young charges. ‘Well, boys,’ I said, my voice catching at some obstruction in my throat as I glanced round at my pupils, ‘tomorrow the new form master will be looking after you. Of course, I cannot authorize a holiday, nor even a half-holiday, but I can determine what we shall do for these last couple of hours that we spend together. I thought you might have some questions for me, and if so I shall do my best to answer them.’
I looked round the room again, to be met with silence. ‘Nothing you want to know about Mr Holmes, or this sad business? Or about writing? Or just about life in general? No?’
I gazed at the sea of faces, so trusting, so innocent, boys with all their lives ahead of them, full of hopes and dreams with nothing, as yet, to sour them. I wondered what puzzles they might pose me, these young men of tomorrow, and hoped fervently that I might be able to answer them. Would they want my advice on their choice of career, my views on the relative claims of medicine, literature, and the army, or perhaps my opinions on the books then being written? I looked round again. ‘Well, boys?’
Thirty-one youthful voices spoke as one. ‘Tell us about the women of three continents, Doctor!’
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