“Certain aspects, yes. Today two different people have confessed to taking the diamond.”
Bromley sprang up. “What? You actually have found the thief?”
“I am not certain.”
“Who? Who has confessed?”
“First Dr. Cowen. And then your wife.”
“What? Is this some kind of ghastly joke, Mr. Holmes?”
“Not at all. I visited Dr. Cowen this morning, and he told me he took the jewel from your wife’s bedroom shortly before he came back downstairs. On our walk just now, Mrs. Bromley claimed that she was the thief, that she had an accomplice whom she signaled from the window and who then took the jewel.”
He shook his head wildly. “This is madness—simply madness speaking! She could not have taken the diamond. Hers is the most fearful and timid nature imaginable. To think that she could commit so grave a crime… No, it is not possible. Cowen, on the other hand… That does seem a possibility.”
Holmes’s ironic smile again pulled at his lips. “Perhaps you might also like to confess to the crime, Mr. Bromley?”
Bromley gave him an incredulous look, then again grew indignant. “I do not find that amusing, Mr. Holmes. Not in the least.”
“Forgive me, sir. You must grant a certain absurdity to the situation, but never mind that. You do not believe your wife could have had an accomplice?”
“Never. She hardly goes out at all, does not leave the house alone, and has no friends except Lady Alexander.”
“You are forgetting the one obvious possibility.”
“Am I? Who might that be?”
“Her maid.”
Bromley opened his mouth, then slowly closed it. Something like alarm showed briefly in his eyes. “Sabine would not do such a thing.”
“Wouldn’t she? Tell me, Mr. Bromley. Do you know of any reason why your wife might harbor a certain animosity toward her maid?”
Bromley’s eyes were fixed on Holmes. He swallowed once, then shook his head. “None. Oh, they are not great friends as sometimes occurs, but I don’t think Alice dislikes her. Have you reason to believe otherwise?”
“She named Sabine as her primary accomplice, and there was a certain gleeful defiance in her manner.”
By that point in the day, I had finally accustomed myself to Holmes’s extraordinary statements appearing from out of nowhere, and I managed to show little reaction.
“Oh, this is all madness—true madness now, and nothing more. I have seen it coming for some time. I have been afraid to say it aloud, but Alice has finally tumbled over the edge. This is some crazed manifestation of her fear and animosity toward the Moonstone. Somehow poor Sabine has also become her scapegoat.”
“If Sabine were involved, then Hodges would also be suspect.”
“No, no! This is all too much. I have the utmost faith in Hodges. He would never be involved in such a crime. He is far too loyal to me. Besides, the two of them were together with us in the sitting room during the entire time the jewel was stolen. Somehow Alice has taken a dislike to the two of them. I cannot imagine why. Perhaps she is envious in some twisted way of their attachment to one another.”
His hands formed fists. “There is another possibility, a worse one. Perhaps… I dread to even say it aloud—it would be yet another sign her sanity is failing. In the past, on a few occasions, there have been outbursts of sudden irrational and completely unjustifiable jealousy. Once after a supper, she claimed I had been far too attentive to Lady Alexander. Alice knows that Lady Alexander and I are old acquaintances, and somehow she assumed the worst. That was bad enough. Surely she could not imagine that I would so lower myself as to… No, no—impossible. She cannot be that far gone.”
“All the same,” Holmes said, “I am afraid I shall have to discuss the situation with Inspector Lestrade.”
Bromley’s dismay was obvious. “Oh God, this has all become a nightmare! Truly the diamond was cursed. Please, Mr. Holmes, I beg of you, do not involve Alice with the police. You said… you said that Dr. Cowen had confessed. Tell the police about that if you must, but do not mention Alice’s ravings. I am afraid that, after all, she is a very sick woman. I can think of no other reason why she would drag herself—and the servants—into this dreadful business.”
“You put in me in a difficult position, sir. Withholding information from the police is a grave matter.”
“But when it is so obviously the product of a sadly stricken mind, surely an exception can be made.”
“Perhaps. I shall need a day to think about it. In the meantime, you must say nothing of this to Mrs. Bromley.”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. A definite pattern had become obvious. I did not feel quite so bewildered as Bromley, but Holmes had certainly managed to startle me in each of our visits today.
“Absolutely not!” Bromley exclaimed. “That would only be affirming her morbid fantasies. I shall not say a word. But really, Mr. Holmes, you could not actually put a troubled soul like Alice at the mercy of the police and the courts? It would exacerbate her condition. It might kill her. Already…” His eyes suddenly glistened, and he was briefly unable to speak. “I am so worried about her.”
“Perhaps not, Mr. Bromley. You shall have my decision tomorrow.”
“Thank you, and I trust it will be the right one. You could not be so cruel to her.”
“We can see ourselves out. Oh, and should you ever feel you need me, should there be further unexpected developments, feel free to summon me regardless of the hour. Good afternoon, sir.”
Bromley sank back down into the chair, and ran his fingers back through his curly hair. He looked desperate. Holmes and I went down the hallway and out the front door. We paused to put on our top hats.
“You have certainly outdone yourself today,” I said. “That was dry understatement this morning when you said you might surprise me today. These bizarre conversations are still whirling about in my head. You were not exactly truthful with any of the three.”
“No, I was not. But then, none of them was exactly truthful with me.”
I stared at him. “None of them?”
“You heard me correctly.”
“I don’t suppose you would like to explain this whole business to me?”
He laughed softly. “It might take a while. You shall see for yourself soon enough, I believe. By tomorrow at this time, all your questions should be resolved. If not, I shall tell you everything.”
“Your breakfast analogy with chemistry was certainly apt. You have put the three compounds together in a test tube, then shaken them well.”
“Very good, Henry! And now we shall await the results. I suspect you would like to see this through to the end.”
“Of course. I would not miss it.”
“Then I suggest you spend the night with me at Baker Street. I expect a summons very early in the morning from the Bromley household.”
I frowned. “Mrs. Bromley. You think she may drink the contents of the entire bottle?”
“I do. We must be ready to leave at once. Your assistance as a physician will be useful. I shall lend you the spare bedroom where Watson once resided. Lestrade will have to make do with the sofa.”
“Lestrade is coming, too?”
“Yes, I believe so. I am off to see him now, but you may as well go home. I shall have him bring some of his men along, too—armed, this time. We don’t want any more surprises from men with revolvers.”
“I don’t understand. Why would a poor distracted woman taking poison require the police?”
Holmes’s gray eyes grew very cold. “One thing I can tell you, Henry: whatever we are dealing with, it is most certainly not a simple case of attempted suicide by a poor distracted woman.”
I stared back at him and felt a sudden tightness in my chest. “I shall know everything by this time tomorrow?”
“You shall.”
“Very good. I shall stop by later this evening then and be prepared for a long night.”
He smiled
. “Excellent, Henry!” He extended his arm, his stick striking the ground. George’s hansom was still parked across the street. He took a few steps, then turned to me. “Do try to come alone, Henry—without Michelle, that is.”
I opened my mouth to give him my assurances, then hesitated. “I shall try.” He resumed walking. “But I can’t promise you!”
* * *
Holmes’s request and my response were prescient. When I told Michelle about the day’s events, she immediately proclaimed that she would gladly accompany me. She assured me that she could return by cab in the morning and meet with her patients, and that losing a little sleep was nothing. I made a few feeble attempts to persuade her otherwise—feeble because I knew she was strong-willed in such matters. Harriet served us dinner, and then, as the weather was still unusually fine, we took a leisurely stroll of about half an hour to Baker Street.
Parked across the street from the door to 221B was a large black enclosed carriage with two horses, a so-called “Black Maria” or police van used to transport several constables or to take trespassers to jail. Sure enough, when we entered Holmes’s sitting room, Inspector Lestrade was there. He wore one of his usual impeccable dark suits, and he gave Michelle an appreciative glance and then a slight bow. They had met before. She was much taller than him and of a more robust build. Alongside her, he seemed slim and slight and, with his narrow jaw and mouth, his fervid dark eyes, more weasel-like than ever.
We conversed briefly. Lestrade told us three policemen were in the Black Maria, ready to assist us. He was somewhat frustrated (as was I) that Holmes would not, as they say, lay all his cards on the table. Holmes sat in his favorite chair wearing his purple dressing gown, his legs crossed so that his slender ankle in a black stocking showed, and smoked a pipe with a very long stem. He merely assured us that the facts would soon make themselves clear. Michelle smiled and said we must allow him the dramatic flourishes he so relished.
Michelle and I each had had a very busy day, and we retired at about ten. We looked at the tiny bed, then at one another. It was going to be a tight fit, but Michelle was one of those people who could sleep anywhere. We soon lay huddled together, her back against my chest, my arm curled about her. “This is rather cozy, after all,” she murmured. She was asleep at once.
I lay thinking about the day’s events, recalling Holmes’s conversations with Cowen, Alice and Bromley. And of course, our visit to the chemist. I doubted I would be able to sleep, but I saw before me the long shelf with the tall carboys containing the colored liquids, each glass stopper shaped like a translucent flame. I realized I must be dreaming. A long darkness came.
I remembered the blue bottle, and I saw it as well, the thick glass and the label with the red lettering. LAUDANUM. POISON. SAUNDERS. My breath came and went softly. My hand went down to my jacket pocket, and I felt the square lump which would be the bottle. I saw the other blue bottle sitting on the dresser, and Sabine’s figure ahead of me, those voluptuously curving hips, only a thin white shift covering them now, her long black hair spilling down onto the white fabric.
I reached for the bottle, and she turned to look at me. She smiled, and I froze with my hand in my pocket. Look here, Holmes said. Look here at the window. She turned away. I knew that now was the moment to switch the bottles, but I could not move.
Oh look, Michelle said. I shall just have a sip. She was also wearing only a shift, and her long white arm reached out for the blue bottle on the dresser.
I shook my head wildly. You mustn’t—that’s the wrong bottle.
She held it in her hand. Is it?
Yes—yes.
Alice took the blue bottle—or was it Michelle? The sudden fear squeezed at my heart, making my breath catch in my throat. No, no, listen to me, you mustn’t drink it. The counterfeit bottle was still in my pocket. That was the real thing with enough laudanum to easily kill her.
Oh Henry, surely one sip can’t hurt.
Poison, I murmured. Poison. It’s poison. And the diamond is poison.
I’m so thirsty. Michelle turned the bottle in her hand. Oh look! It doesn’t say “poison.” It says “drink me.” The tag tied to the bottle neck was as long as the bottle itself.
That must be a mistake, I said.
But it isn’t, Alice said. You’ll fit through the door if you drink it down. The rabbit told me so.
Don’t make jokes—you are the wrong Alice.
I think not. She was wearing a child’s short-sleeved blue dress with short flaring skirts, along with a white apron and black shoes with straps, just like Alice in the story, but her breasts were almost grotesquely large, and her arms and legs were bare and shapely, a woman’s not a girl’s.
I groaned. You’re trying to confuse me.
Drink it down, Alice or Michelle! Drink it—it’s good for you. Somehow Bromley had halfway transformed himself into a rabbit. Coming up through his curly brown hair were two enormous white ears, and his jaw protruded out into a button nose, complete with whiskers. He wore a plaid jacket and nothing else, his male anatomy only too obvious, nearly as long as his ears. He might be a rabbit, but he still had hands, one of which held a small gold watch. Standing beside him was a short stocky figure wearing a gigantic top hat, bow tie with polka dots and a checkered suit. After looking hard, I realized it was Hodges, but his body appeared to have been squashed down to half his usual height.
Sabine had put on some clothes. She wore a strange ornamental dress of gold, black and red, cut in a way that left her breasts completely exposed. In one hand she held a stick with a red heart on the end. Her face beneath the black hair was transformed, her pout beyond the capacity of a normal face, and her mouth opened impossibly large. Drink it!
My head hurt, and I tried to focus on Michelle. She was still in her white shift, beautiful as ever, the only one who looked exactly normal any longer. Henry, it’s all right.
The figures wavered for a moment, and then I noticed a matchbox of double or triple the usual size sitting on the dresser alongside the blue bottle. Alice was back in her white shift, her long blond hair dangling down on either side of her thin face. She reached out slowly for the matchbox.
Don’t open it. Don’t open it.
But it opened itself, and the Moonstone tumbled out. The movement made the facets flash, and a brief red spark flared, the color jarring alongside the blue of the bottle.
Alice laughed softly. It’s poison too.
Don’t eat it, Holmes said. Don’t eat the diamond.
Yes, yes, Bromley whispered. Eat the diamond. Swallow it down.
Michelle’s arm slowly straightened, her fingers reaching toward the gem. I struggled to reach her, to pull her back, but I could not seem to move—nor could I even cry out. Her forefinger touched the jewel, and she jerked her hand back, crying out, It hurts.
The diamond wavered, then was half as tall as the bottle. Light sparkled off the facets, and with a hazy glowing shudder, it doubled again in size. The red inside had also grown, was like some internal wound that had begun to leak blood into the surrounding tissues of adamant. How beautiful, Michelle murmured.
It’s not beautiful, I cried.
Alice laughed. It’s cursed. It’s cursed. Can’t you see?
The red center continued to swell and began to pulse like a heart, filling a network of crystalline vessels with red.
It cannot be alive. It cannot.
But it was still growing in size, the red inside pulsating, and behind the red organ was some shadowy shape, its evil soul or brain. Clearly it was not a dead mineral lump, but a living being of incredible power. The Moonstone was taller than the blue bottle now, but no, the blue bottle had grown as well, and the red letters spelling POISON were also flashing. There must be enough laudanum in that enormous bottle to kill an entire army.
Before I could stop her, Alice seized the gigantic blue bottle and drank, filling her mouth until she could drink no more, and then the sweet-smelling amber liquid spilled down onto her white shif
t and turned red. She screamed and collapsed, and then Michelle seized the blue bottle with her big white hands. The diamond sat in the shadows pulsing scarlet and watched.
No—no!
I lunged for Michelle, and then the diamond and the blue bottle were gone.
I was lying on the floor in a dim room, aware that my hip hurt and that I had been having a nightmare. A single candle still flickered on a nearby table. Michelle lurched up and stared at me, only half awake herself. She had let down her hair, but we both still had our clothes on so we would be ready to leave immediately if necessary.
“What is it, Henry? What’s wrong?”
I took in a big breath and rubbed at my arm. “I was having a nightmare. I fell out of the bed.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, I think so. A little sore, perhaps.”
“Poor darling. Little wonder! There is hardly any room. You sleep near the wall now, and I’ll take the outside. What time is it, anyway?”
I stood up, wincing slightly. I had struck the hard wooden floor between the bed and a small braided rung. My arm and my hip did feel bruised. I picked up my watch and tipped it toward the candle flame. “A quarter to two.”
“I was sleeping so hard.”
“I had an odd dream that went on and on. You were about to drink some poison. I was trying to stop you.”
She extended her stockinged foot and stepped out of the bed. “Go on, against the wall with you. It’s my turn to fall out of the bed.”
I lay down, and this time she curled up against my back and slipped her hand around to clasp my chest. I sighed and closed my eyes. I was almost asleep when a voice said, “Henry, Michelle, wake up. It is time. We must go at once.”
Neither of us was exactly asleep. We sat up and saw Holmes at the doorway, candle in hand. In the halo of the candlelight his thin face looked intense and eager. I doubted he had slept at all.
“What has happened?” Michelle asked.
“Hodges has arrived and asked us to come at once. There has been a terrible accident at the Bromleys.” He gave the word “accident” an ironic stress, and the reflection of the candle flame flicked in his eyes.
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