“Not Victoria Gratia,” he said impatiently. “This is the room Lucy stayed in.”
“The teacher?” I asked, wondering if I was more tired than I thought, given how difficult I found it to follow the rationale for Holmes’s actions.
“Yes, the teacher,” he replied, beginning to rummage around the chest of drawers. Then he looked under the bed. I rubbed my eyes, resigning myself to the fact that sleep was likely to prove elusive for some time.
“What are you looking for?”
“The means,” Holmes replied. “I want to know how the murder might have been committed.”
“Why would that be in the teacher’s room?” I asked, still trying to comprehend.
“Think, Watson. If Teed died from injuries sustained during the fight two years ago, the perpetrators are known, though not necessarily those who hired them. But what of a murderer using public opinion as an opportunity? What of someone with the cleverness to go ahead and send Teed on to his rest while his followers blamed other circumstances entirely? I have been thinking of the fight and its origins, but perhaps my scope has been too narrow up to now. Many a clever murderer has used misdirection to cloak his deed.”
Holmes was gesturing and speaking energetically, his entire being engaged in this idea. I had not seen him so excited during the case thus far.
“The teacher was the first person we met here, Watson. She ushered us in, so to speak, directed our course. We are told she was Victoria Gratia’s devoted friend and Teed’s disciple, yet she left this house as soon as the man died. A strangely dissonant picture – the faithful servant who abandons the woman she supposedly adored and, aside from those surly directions when we arrived, never came to talk to the men who have come to investigate the murder of the messiah to whom she devoted her life. Small details, Watson? I see in your face that you believe they are. But strange behaviour need not be loud to arouse my curiosity.”
I blinked. What had seemed strange and far off moments ago now began to take shape in my mind.
“Dissonance, Watson. I like it above almost anything else, especially in cases where the evidence is thin. It shows me where secrets are lurking. I began to detect that something else was at the bottom of this mystery almost as soon as we arrived, but it was only this evening that a potential motive became clear to me.”
“Her mother,” I said, having now become fully awake. “I may not have your powers of observation, but even I thought the tale an odd one. Had I lost a beloved parent in such a place, I doubt I would embrace it wholeheartedly as my life’s destiny.”
“Someone might,” Holmes rejoined, “but actions have to be considered in the context of overall character. The question is whether or not she would have done such a thing. I think it unlikely.”
He was now looking through a low cabinet that stood by the far wall. He pulled a small waste basket from within. “It looks as though our scrupulously tidy hostess neglected this in her grief. I am immensely grateful to her. Judging by the build-up of dust, it’s been here since Teed’s death and Lucy’s vacation of the room.”
Before I could protest, he had dumped out the basket’s contents onto the coverlet of my bed. These contents consisted mostly of papers, which Holmes peered through impatiently, and pieces of brown glass. Some of the latter Holmes picked up with his handkerchief.
“Chemist’s bottles,” he said. “We must go into town tomorrow and find a place to test these.”
He looked through the rest of the pile and secreted a few slips of paper in his pocket, but he did not make any more exclamations and his fevered excitement seemed to have abated.
“Do you really think Lucy murdered Cyrus Teed?” I asked, trying to reconcile the idea with my impression of the slight, serious girl.
“I would like to find out precisely what medications the Founder was taking and compare them with whatever substance might be found on these pieces of glass.”
“But if it was poison, don’t you think someone would have realised it?”
“Under normal circumstances, a reasonable question, but the Unity members believe their own story, and they have little trust in doctors outside their own faithful. For Teed to be taking medicine, he must have either had an illness of some sort or have been in need of relief from pain, which would have provided the ideal cover for a clever poisoner.”
I could not argue with this. Holmes and I sat up for another while, smoking silently, each of us pursuing his own train of thought. Finally, Holmes retired to his own room and I went to bed. I slept fitfully and awoke before sunrise. When I heard Victoria Gratia stirring in the kitchen, I washed, and then dressed myself for another hot winter day.
* * *
“Watson, one of the men who lives at the far edge of the community will lend us his wagon and horse, I am told,” said my friend when I entered the kitchen. He handed me a small packet of bread and cheese that our hostess had put together. I left the house thinking longingly of the delicious breakfast we had eschewed.
“What did you tell her of our errand?” I asked, trying to distract myself from the thought of bacon and eggs.
“I simply told her I needed to continue my investigations in town. In her characteristically frosty way, she said something about expecting us never to come back. But she at least provided Mr. Jamison’s information. He is married and therefore not a fully fledged member of the community. Those who are not celibate are, it seems, allowed to remain here, but are not considered vested with divine approval. But it appears there’s no bad blood, since the whole enterprise is quite profitable. If it wasn’t obvious that the leaders of the Unity mostly observe the austerity they preach, I might wonder if the whole thing was motivated by money. But I see nothing to point me in that direction and everything to point me towards the thorny relationships within this place.”
A walk of less than fifteen minutes took us to the location marked on Victoria Gratia’s hastily drawn map. It was still early morning, and as we approached the small house, a child came running out with a bag heavy with books. I thought with a start that he might be going to learn grammar and arithmetic from a murderess. It was not something I had considered thus far, and I wondered if I should try to prevent this child from making his usual way to the schoolhouse.
“You’re an absurd old man,” I told myself, for we had no proof of guilt, and doubtless all the other children would be going to school as always. So I simply smiled at the lad and walked up to the house with Holmes.
We were ushered inside by a slight woman in a simple dress. “Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson? We were told you had come here. We are not part of any of the Unity’s meetings, else we might have met earlier.”
Holmes smiled as charmingly as he could. “We have been told that you and your husband are in possession of a wagon we might borrow to go into town. Is that the case?”
She nodded and bent to pick up an energetic child who was squirming by her feet.
“Jacob!” she called into the interior of the house. A man peeked around a doorway and a moment later emerged into the room.
“What is it, my love?”
“These are the men investigating the Founder’s death. They would like to rent our wagon and horse to journey into Fort Myers.”
“Of course, we will compensate you for the trouble,” Holmes said.
The man nodded, smiling. “I would take only my satisfaction at being helpful as compensation, but I fear my good wife would be angry with me later.”
Holmes held out a wad of dollar bills. “Take this as assurance that the horse and wagon will return to you in good condition.”
The man looked as if he might refuse, but his wife reached for the money. “Thank you,” she said. “When you return, we will give half of this back.”
“Very well,” said my friend good-humouredly, and we followed the man Jacob outside.
“You will not find us as the rest of this place,” he said, as we crossed the yard to a barn. “We hold to some of Koresh’s ideas, espec
ially as regards scientific inquiry and women’s rights, but not all of us are prepared to give up the natural happiness of marriage.”
“Sensible,” I murmured.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he answered. “We are in a comfortable enough middle position here, between those seen as true believers and the hired hands who consider it all nonsense. The Unity is quite tolerant of outsiders – except of those who tangle in politics. My wife even participates in the theatricals sometimes, and I must say that the education is superior to anything available in town.”
I thought again of the small, serious-faced girl in her schoolhouse.
* * *
Once we had possession of the wagon and horse, Holmes and I set off down the one road towards Fort Myers, where, Holmes informed me, inventors Thomas Edison and Henry Ford spent their winters away from the harsh weather of the north.
Within just over an hour, we reached the town, and it occurred to me to hope that we did not run into the marshal, whom I had no wish to encounter unless it was absolutely necessary.
Fort Myers was small, and we had no trouble locating the chemist’s. In fact, we would have been hard pressed to miss the shop, since there were so few.
A bell tinkled, as Holmes and I stepped inside. He took out the two largest fragments of bottle glass and laid them on the counter.
“Good day. I have need of discovering what substance was contained in this bottle.”
“Certainly,” answered the chemist, who was short and round and smiling. Very unscientifically, he took his finger, wetted it with saliva, and tasted the powdery residue on one of the pieces before Holmes could stop him.
“Sleeping powder, a common compound. It’s not arsenic, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the chemist said, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, then laughing as if at a great joke.
“Thank you,” said Holmes, placing a few coins on the counter. “Come, Watson, we are finished here.”
As we walked back to the wagon, Holmes said, “It was no fight on a Fort Myers street that ended the life of Cyrus Teed.” He held up the handkerchief with the glass fragments inside. “He was poisoned, and the culprit was Lucy, the schoolmistress.”
“But the chemist just said there was no poison in that bottle!” I exclaimed.
“I understand your bafflement, and I do not blame you. For once, I am allowing myself an element of conjecture. I find it necessary given the circumstances.
“Lucy, upon her mother’s death, came to the Koreshan Unity. She quickly insinuated herself as a trusted ally and believer. That done, she secured the affections of Teed’s right-hand woman and then his own preference, as Victoria Gratia told us, insisting on giving him his daily medicine as his condition worsened.”
“Again, there is no poison!”
“Almost anything can be a poison if it’s given in doses far greater than intended, as you yourself know,” he answered. “If you looked around in the shop, you must have noticed this is not the sort of bottle supplied by this chemist, the only chemist for miles. It also does not match any of the various medicines in Miss Victoria’s kitchen, which all bear the trademark of this local chemist. This particular bottle came from somewhere else.”
“What will you do?” I asked, my head swimming.
“You will see. Now, however, I wish to find Mary Mills.”
Holmes’s steps led us to the town’s small post office, just across Main Street from the chemist’s. As in many towns, Holmes’s surmise that the postmaster would know where anyone of note was lodging proved true.
“Miss Mills,” answered the elderly man in a raspy voice, “she’s at the boarding house on First Street.”
To there we went; it was only a five-minute walk.
“Boarding house” was a grand term for what proved to be a very ordinary domicile, but we were let in by a pleasant maid, who left us in a front sitting room and went to fetch Miss Mills.
* * *
Mary Mills was middle-aged and serious-faced. She sat across from Holmes and me with her hands folded, and I was reminded of a painting of a nun in contemplation that I had once seen.
“I would have sought you out, Mr. Holmes, if you had not come to me,” she said. “I heard you were in town, and so I came here.”
“I appreciate your making the effort,” Holmes said. “You worked as Victoria Gratia’s secretary, I understand.”
“I did. I thought at one time that she had the light of God in her, when I still believed.”
“And now?” “More likely the Devil,” Miss Mills answered with sudden vehemence. “She is responsible for the fight that led to Teed’s demise.”
“Please explain.”
“You have heard of the altercation two years ago, I assume, the one with the marshal and the men from Fort Myers.”
“I have.”
“Do you know why those men hated Teed? You will have been told it was because of politics. But that was not the reason. The truth is that a Mr. Wilson from Fort Myers had taken a fancy to Victoria, but she only had eyes for the Founder. I am not claiming anything corporeal; Teed was far too high-minded.” She sniffed at this and continued.
“Victoria always accompanied Teed into town. He had a fondness for women. It was as if he needed them, couldn’t rule his kingdom without their endorsement. I don’t say this is entirely a bad thing. Many a woman learned to work and achieve much at the Unity who had never been given such opportunities before, and you will know that both the men and women who follow Teed tend toward higher education and a scientific mindset.
“But with Victoria it was different. Teed knew she adored him; I don’t know how he could have been unaware of it. And I will grant that she is a woman of very strong will. When I served as her secretary, I often observed her bend people to it. I wouldn’t have minded it if she had cut Wilson off, you see. Loving Teed was no crime, merely something close to lunacy.
“But she liked the attention paid her by both men, loved to be admired. The Unity wasn’t enough, not with many other women of high positions around her. She craved the single-minded devotion Wilson gave her. He isn’t known as the one who started the fight. He had his friends do it, on the pretext of a silly quarrel. Wilson wanted to show Victoria that her idol was weak and unmanly.
“The marshal wasn’t hard to engage in the plan. He hates the Unity and happily gave a version of events favourable to the town, not the Unity. He surely hoped Teed would die of his injuries much sooner than he did.”
“How do you know of all this?” Holmes asked quietly, as if he wished to disrupt the flow of her speech as little as possible.
“I saw a letter Victoria had written to her admirer after the fight and his answer admitting everything. Perhaps it was dishonourable of me to read these letters, but I was glad to have done so. It was what caused me to leave the Unity and her service, even though I was paid well and had a comfortable situation.”
She let out a low cough. “Perhaps it seems silly, but until then I had thought of the Unity as a shining city on a hill, a beautiful place where like-minded people could gather and live in true scientific unity. I had never known such freedom before, freedom to live and work and not be defined by my relationship to a man.
“But, Mr. Holmes, when I read that letter, my eyes were finally opened. I saw the way she had strung Wilson along, saw his desperation. I realised how low and mean Victoria could be, and I could no longer perceive the light of the divine in her. Furthermore, I finally understood that I wasn’t any freer than I’d ever been. Surely, I could work and live, but the existence of everyone in the Unity was defined by Cyrus Teed, another man. I now look back on the woman I was and wonder how I could have been so enthralled by the whole thing. I wouldn’t blame you if you think me a fool, but this is what happened.”
Her tale told, she appeared relieved.
“This has certainly been illuminating,” said Holmes.
“I am glad to reveal these truths that I have not divulged to another soul
before. This is the last of the hold they had on me, and I intend to be very happy from now on. You may believe me or not, as you wish. I have no ulterior motive in speaking of these matters and can gain nothing from doing so.”
“May I ask,” Holmes rejoined, “if you knew the Koreshan schoolmistress?”
“Oh, yes. Just before I left, Lucy was always by the Founder’s side. She was an angel, sent to be with him during his most trying moments. She insisted on taking him his medicine and tea, even though she had the children to look after. Never complained a single time that I ever heard. An unusual girl, no one could have been more devoted. Even Victoria said she was one of the truest believers in the Unity. No one else could have gained Victoria’s trust so completely, not even I, whom she used to trust implicitly.”
* * *
Holmes was nearly silent on the journey back, but I sensed excitement in him. Finally, a few moments before we reached the Unity, he spoke. “Why would a young woman insist so heavily upon being near to the Founder?”
“You believe that she cared for Teed as more than a messiah?” I asked.
Holmes smiled. “A messiah may engender religious fervour, Watson, but the object of a more earthly passion is more likely to cause irrational jealousy.”
“Jealousy?” I asked.
“Think, Watson,” he replied. “Day after day, she watched the object of her affections treat another as his divine successor, his favourite. After all she had done for him, as we have been told, he was loyal to Victoria.” Holmes subsided back into silence, and I considered his words.
Once we had reached the edge of the property, we returned the wagon and horse to our benefactor. Then Holmes chose the direction towards the schoolhouse. We heard the bell ringing as we approached the tiny, neat building, and seconds after that a throng of children rushed out, shouting with delight at the conclusion of the school day.
Holmes and I stepped into the empty schoolroom, where the schoolteacher was still collecting books and papers from empty desks.
“Good afternoon,” said my friend calmly.
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