I shook my head. “If I listen to you two much longer, I shall go hurl myself into the Thames!” They both laughed.
“Well put, Henry,” Holmes said. “Well put.”
Alice smiled at me. “Let us enjoy this beautiful—if not perhaps, perfect—weather.”
We remained quiet most of the way back. I glanced at Alice. She seemed to grow more pensive as we approached her house. The bright sunlight emphasized her pallor. With her fair skin, pale-blue eyes and blue-gray silk dress she seemed rather washed out—faded—halfway toward becoming a wraith. In spite of the sun’s warmth, I felt a sudden shivery sensation at the back of my neck.
“Walking with you two gentlemen has been a delight,” she said.
“The pleasure was mine,” said Holmes.
“Perhaps after Saturday, I might hire the famous consulting detective for regular walks.”
“You tempt me, madam.” He opened the door and waited for Alice and me to go through first. We all removed our hats, and Holmes set his stick in the umbrella stand.
In the parlor Sabine sat on the sofa working a large circular embroidery hoop. Hodges was sitting very close to her and speaking softly. Bromley had a newspaper open before him, but he bounded up from an armchair and smiled. “You look much better, Alice. A pleasant walk, I take it?”
“I need to talk with you,” Holmes said. “Perhaps in the library.”
“Very well.”
We followed him down the hallway. There was a door to the left just before that of the library. “What room is this, Mr. Bromley?” Holmes asked.
“That?” He pushed open the door, revealing another smaller, slightly less ornate room. “It is another drawing room, a smaller one.”
Holmes nodded, then we followed Bromley into the library. The curtains were drawn over the two tall windows, making the room with its dark wood and rows of books shadowy. “It is rather dreary in here,” Bromley said. “We keep the drapes drawn because… The Indian, you know. Perhaps we should try the drawing room.”
“As you wish,” Holmes said.
We followed him back into the other room. I caught a glimpse of the three of us in a large gold-framed mirror, all rather grave, two men with mustaches and Holmes’s slender face. Holmes closed the door behind us. He and I sat on an ornate wooden-framed sofa, while Bromley took an armchair.
Holmes set his hands on his trouser legs just above the knees. “Mr. Bromley, even before reading about Mr. Harter’s demise, I had planned on visiting you today. I wanted to ask you a few questions about your servants.”
“My servants? Why are you so interested in them?”
“You must understand that frequently when jewelry is stolen, the theft is what is referred to as an ‘inside job,’ and the inside persons referred to are most often servants.”
Bromley sat straight up. “None of ours would be involved in such a thing! They are all honest and trustworthy. I have seen to that. I hired them all myself.”
“Perhaps, perhaps. First of all, let me ask you a related question. Have any servants left your service within the last year or so?”
Bromley frowned. “Well, yes, one of the housemaids, Amy, a very sweet girl.”
“How long ago was this?”
“About six months. She met a young man with prospects in Bristol. She left to marry him.”
“Did she leave a forwarding address?”
“No. Why would she?”
“She might want you to forward some references.”
“I told you—her young man had money. Once they were married, she wouldn’t have to work again. She was looking forward to that.”
“What was her young man’s name?”
“William.”
“What was his surname?”
Bromley pulled at his chin. “I… I don’t know. He was always just William.”
“I see. Regrettable. I believe you told me that you have six servants: Matilda and Susan the housemaids, Hodges, Sabine, Mrs. Carlson, and the cook.”
Bromley nodded. “Yes, exactly. Susan replaced Amy. As I’ve told you before, Alice and I are not so wealthy as the Moonstone might lead you to believe. We cannot afford the full retinue of servants, a butler or steward, a coachman, and the like. For that same reason, the servants we have share certain duties. Matilda and Susan both do the general house cleaning, and Mrs. Carlson helps prepare the table for formal dinners, where Hodges also helps serve.”
“And you say you hired them all? Even your wife’s own maid? That is rather unusual.”
Bromley tapped at his knee with his knuckles. “Alice did not feel up to it, and she had little experience with such matters. I was happy to help out. She was rather shy and awkward. I wanted someone with an eye for style who could help bring out her natural beauty. The French are the masters of that.”
“And who recommended Sabine?”
“Alice’s friend, Lady Alexander, among others. She knew she was looking for a better situation.”
“Indeed? And what about Hodges? Did you hire him when you married or did he come with you from before?”
“He came with me. I hired him when I was only about twenty.”
“And what can you tell me about Hodges?”
“What can I tell you? What is it you want to know?”
“He was either a policeman or a soldier. If so, why would he want to become a valet?”
Bromley’s eyes widened, then he laughed. “I forget there is no keeping secrets from you, Mr. Holmes! By now I should know better than to try. Very well, Hodges was a soldier. He served both in India and here at home for some years. He had an altercation with an officer that ended badly, and things went downhill after that. I first saw him lying in a drunken stupor before a public house. My friend wanted to leave him there, but it was frightfully cold and pouring rain. You wouldn’t leave a dog out in such filthy weather! I didn’t want the poor devil to catch pneumonia and die, so we hauled him into a cab, and I took him home. When he sobered up the next morning, he was very grateful. We talked a bit, and as a soldier, he knew all about polishing boots and keeping uniforms clean and pressed. I was looking for a valet, and he seemed made for the job, so I gave him a try. I’ve never had any regrets.”
I smiled faintly. Michelle also had great sympathy for stray cats and dogs of every sort.
“There is clearly an attachment between him and Sabine.”
“Yes. I suppose it’s rather hard to miss. It happened quickly and has only deepened over time. They are engaged to be married.”
“Indeed? And have they set a date?”
“They hope it will be sometime in the next year or two.”
“But they have no definite date?”
“No, they are saving up their money, you see.”
Holmes regarded him closely, his gray eyes thoughtful. “Are you quite certain Hodges’s intentions are honorable?”
Bromley’s smile vanished. “Certainly! Do you think I would allow anything dishonorable under my own roof—in my wife’s presence? Granted… perhaps they are sometimes overly familiar. Even so, Hodges respects her too much to abuse her honor.”
“I see.” Holmes’s faint smile seemed, to my knowing eyes, somewhat ironical. “I believe you told me before that Hodges’s room is next to your own.”
“More or less. There is my dressing room between us. Very convenient to have him so close at hand, so readily at my beck and call.”
“Could you tell me how much you pay your servants?”
Bromley shook his head. “Why on earth…? Ah. I understand. As you please: Hodges and Mrs. Carlson get sixty pounds a year, cook and Sabine forty-five, Matilda gets thirty and Susan twenty-five.”
Holmes gave an appreciative nod. “Very generous, sir.”
Bromley smiled. “As I think you know, servants are much less likely to steal from a generous master than from a stingy one.”
“Exactly so. You would be surprised, however, how many gentlemen are ignorant of that fact, which would seem so
obvious. Often the very wealthiest are the most reluctant to pay decent wages.”
“Perhaps because they no longer have a real sense of the value of money.”
“Perhaps. And I suspect all the servants must know that the diamond is kept in a safe in the library?”
Bromley shrugged. “I suppose they do.”
“But you never open the safe when anyone is present?”
Again, he smiled and shook his head. “Never. I always make certain the door is closed.”
“Very sensible, Mr. Bromley. That is all I need to know. For now.”
“May I ask a question? You have met Mr. Tyabji, have you not? What was your impression? Do you think he is plotting to steal the diamond?”
Holmes slowly drew in his breath. “I doubt it. Murthwaite would be a likelier suspect.”
“Murthwaite? But he was a friend of Alice’s father!”
“I said ‘likelier,’ which does not necessarily mean ‘probable.’”
“Could there be Indians other than Tyabji plotting to steal the diamond?”
“Of course there could—or Englishmen, or Welshmen, or Irishmen, or Frenchmen. That is why you hired me, as you know. Oh, one other thing. Who exactly is coming to the dinner on Saturday?”
“The Bartrams, the Alexanders, my friend Harrison and his wife, Cowen, and Murthwaite.”
“And they all know that this will be the last appearance of the diamond for some time?”
“Yes. I did tell them to keep that information confidential.”
A short sharp laugh burst from Holmes’s lips. “As if that many people could ever keep a secret.”
“It will not be in the newspapers as her coming-out soiree was.”
Holmes nodded, his forehead creased. “You do not seem to have invited anyone from your own family, neither your parents or your brother. Why is that?”
Bromley drew in his breath, then slowly eased it out. “You have put your finger upon a sore spot, Mr. Holmes. My family did not exactly approve of my marriage to Alice. They thought her unworthy of my affections. They would have preferred a woman from a wealthy, titled family; someone without Alice’s ailments and eccentricities—they could not acknowledge her many better qualities or her beauty. Because she has only a life-interest, the Moonstone did not count for them as anything of value. Their objections to her bloodline were particularly ridiculous—Alice’s great-grandmother Lady Verinder, was married to a knight, and Alice’s great-grandfather was denied a dukedom that should have been his. Her grandfather Franklin Blake should, by all rights, have been a duke. I had hoped things might change after my marriage, but my family has still not come round and learned to appreciate Alice as I do.” He lowered his gaze and shook his head.
Holmes nodded. “This has been most helpful, Mr. Bromley. I shall not take up any more of your time. By the way, your invitation was for seven o’clock. When exactly will you be taking the Moonstone out of the safe?”
Bromley frowned. “I had not thought about that. I should probably wait as late as possible. No need to take it out until Alice is all dressed and done up, probably six thirty.”
“I shall want to be here when you open the safe.”
“A wise precaution, Mr. Holmes!”
“I promise I shall stay out of the way and not impede the preparations.” Holmes turned to me. “You and Michelle can come at the usual time.”
We all stood up. Bromley shook Holmes’s hand, his other hand grasping Holmes’s wrist eagerly. “Thank you so much, Mr. Holmes, for looking after Alice. I had my misgivings, but I saw from her looks when she came in that the walk and her time with you seem to have done wonders. As for Saturday, come what may, I promise you will dine well!”
Holmes and I soon stepped back outside. After the dark interior, the bright sunlight made me blink, but then a cloud passed before the sun. I smiled, thinking of Alice. Holmes and I started down the street toward Kensington.
“Maybe we have all become alarmed over nothing,” I said. “Perhaps the dinner will be uneventful, and the diamond will go into the vault on Monday.”
Holmes laughed softly. “Perhaps. One way or another, we shall soon know.”
“This brouhaha over the diamond may amount to nothing.”
“It may—or it may not.”
“Must you always be so pessimistic?”
His gray eyes peered at me from under the brim of his top hat, his eyebrows coming together. “People do not hire Sherlock Holmes to be an optimist, Henry. Like Lady Tigleywink, I too would like to be proven wrong in my cynical views about human nature. However, once and for all, it is too early to assume much of anything. There is insignificant evidence to theorize.” He set the ferrule of his stick on the sidewalk, then paused for only an instant. “All the same…”
“All the same?” I asked.
He walked without speaking for a few steps, then stopped and turned to me. “All the same, there are too many details which do not add up, too many little complexities. Somehow, no one is… exactly as they seem. And the Moonstone may not be cursed, but despite its brightness, it casts a dark shadow. No, until I see it locked in that vault, I shall not be at ease.”
“It is as bad as all that?”
He smiled and resumed walking. “Ask me that again in another week.”
Seven
Michelle and I sat close together in the carriage staring out at the streets of London. My gloved hand rested on top of her gloved hand. She sighed, and I glanced at the white expanse of her chest above the fine blue lacework of her evening dress and at the slight hollow showing between her breasts. Women were usually so covered up, but ball gowns and evening dresses were the exception, showing off their décolletage and their bare arms. I stared at her profile, her slightly upturned nose, the strong jaw and chin, the full lips, her long neck, and then I turned and leaned over to kiss her chest just above the lace.
Her fingers thrust themselves into my hair. “What do you think you are doing, forward man?”
I backed away an inch or so. “Kissing your lovely chest. I wish this dress wasn’t in the way.” I kissed her again and set my hand on the skirts over her thigh, making the silk and petticoats rustle.
“Henry, don’t do that.” Her fingers caressed the back of my neck, contradicting her words.
I sat up and drew in my breath. “I suppose I shouldn’t start anything. We’re almost there. All the same…” I leaned over to kiss her on the lips. I drew back, and her blue eyes stared back at me from under her thick red-brown eyebrows.
“So much trouble getting all dressed up, all bejeweled and decked out, and you make me want to tear off all of my clothes and all of your clothes.”
“I suppose we have to eat dinner first, then we might rush home and try that. I wonder exactly how long it would take to tear the clothes off one another.”
She touched my cheek with her fingertips. “Not long, I suspect. That would be an interesting experiment. Shall we find out? But you must promise to be careful with my new dress and take a few seconds to undo all the little hooks from the eyes. My underwear you can simply rip to pieces.”
I gave her hand a squeeze. “Something to look forward to, anyway. This dinner party makes me uneasy. At least you will have a chance to see the Moonstone. It is a remarkable gem.” I hesitated. “Do you ever wish you had some spectacular jewelry yourself?”
“Oh yes—what I really want is a tiara, one with a huge ruby flashing red at the center so I can stand in the sun and pretend to be a lighthouse.”
I laughed, and then my hand tightened again about hers. “No, seriously, if we ever came into some money, would you want something?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Since it seems outside the realm of possibility, I haven’t given it much thought. I doubt it.”
Her reply didn’t surprise me. I had not ventured upon the dreaded shopping trip because I was afraid that even if I bought her an emerald or sapphire necklace, she would not wear it. Outside, I recognized the townhou
ses along the Bromleys’ street, and the carriage soon pulled to a stop. The driver opened the door and helped Michelle out. He wore a battered brown bowler hat a size or two too large. I handed him the fare and a tip, and he nodded gratefully.
I took Michelle’s arm above the elbow. “Well, here we are. Once more unto the breach, dear friends.” We started toward the porch.
“Oh, Henry, it can’t be that bad, can it?”
“We shall see.”
Hodges opened the door and greeted us, bowing slightly. His broad frame and ramrod posture went well with his formal attire, the black tailcoat, bow tie and waistcoat. We found the others all gathered in the parlor.
Holmes’s tall, thin figure was perched near the far window like some dark predatory bird coolly appraising the party for its prey. His thin face with the swept-back black hair, with that hawk nose and those staring gray eyes, stood out against the vivid white collar and the white bow tie. He also wore a white silk waistcoat with white buttons and a black tailcoat with black satin lapels. His right arm was bent, his right hand loosely grasping his left arm just above the wrist. He gave me a slight nod of acknowledgment. A few feet away from Holmes stood another solitary figure in formal dress, Dr. Cowen. His arms were folded, and he stared sternly downward.
Bromley smiled, his white teeth showing under the thick brown mustache as he swept toward us. He shook my hand enthusiastically, also grasping my forearm with his other hand.
Alice smiled and came forward. At her throat hung the Moonstone in all its splendor. As she moved across the room, the diamond glittered and sparkled as if it were alive and trying to signal something. What might it have to say? I wondered. Alice wore a simple pale-blue silk evening gown with darker blue lacework at the bodice. Her ash-blond hair was braided tightly and fastened up at the back. Her long, thin arms, mostly hidden now by elbow-length white gloves, contrasted with the short puffy blue sleeves ballooning out over her shoulders.
A shorter man turned toward me. He had an amazing tan that darkened the bottom of his face and went up about an inch above his black eyebrows and dark eyes, leaving his pale, balding crown almost glowing in comparison. What gray hair remained was cut very short. “Dr. Vernier!” He smiled at me and, in the shape of his mouth and jaw, I finally recognized him.
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