The White Worm

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by Sam Siciliano


  I smiled faintly. “Don’t be so sure of that.”

  Twelve

  The moon shone on Adam’s face. He took a deep breath. He seemed more secure on his feet than earlier. I started back for the house after Michelle and Diana. I pulled out a handkerchief. “Do wipe your chin, Adam.”

  Even as we walked, he took the handkerchief, dabbed at the last remnant of vomit, then stuffed the handkerchief into his pocket. The house still cast a shadow across the lawn in front, although it was smaller because the moon had risen higher. The front doors were ajar, a long gap of feeble orange light showing between them.

  I turned to Adam. “I think it would be best if you wait out here. ‘Quit while you’re ahead’ is a good maxim. I shall come back when I can.”

  He nodded. “I’ll wait.” He drew in his breath. “But I must know about Diana—how she is.”

  “And I shall tell you. It may be a while, but I’ll be back.”

  I went through the front doors and into the hallway. The fire had died down, but the one lamp was still lit. In the center of the hall, near the furniture alongside the window, Hamswell was sitting on the stone floor, rubbing dully at his jaw. Holmes held Arabella’s wrist tightly. There also seemed to be an apparent faceoff between Mrs. Troughton and Angela, both of them in their black garb. I could not see either of their faces, but Mrs. Troughton stood beside Holmes, arms outspread and fists clenched, blocking Angela’s way. Angela might be taller, but Mrs. Troughton outweighed her and had broader shoulders and brawnier arms. Michelle and Diana had come in just before me, and Diana had turned away from the others, as if wanting to escape further turmoil. Michelle still had a protective arm about her.

  “This is quite enough, Mr. Holmes!” Arabella exclaimed. “Let me go to the poor girl—let me comfort her. I know exactly how she feels.”

  “All in good time, madam. If I release you, will you give me your word to remain here an instant longer? I promise it will be only two or three minutes at most. I need to confirm with Dr. Doudet Vernier that Miss Marsh is well.”

  “It is most infuriating, but you have my promise.”

  “Excellent, and I must point out that should you break that promise, I shall just have to drag you away, something which would ill become both of us.” He turned toward me. “Henry, see to Diana for a moment.” He crossed the hall very quickly and touched Michelle’s shoulder, even as I walked over to Diana.

  I hesitated, then grasped her arm tightly. “Are you feeling better?”

  She nodded. “Yes. It was—it was the surprise of it all.” I felt her shudder.

  Holmes said something to Michelle. She answered, he spoke again, then nodded and turned to Arabella. “Very well, Lady Verr. You may see to your niece.”

  Diana glanced at me, her face showing confusion and dismay. Lady Verr swept toward us, raising both arms, her long white hands outstretched before her. “Oh my poor darling, come to me—oh Diana.”

  I stepped back reluctantly, and Arabella embraced her. Holmes’s bony fingers sank into my arm, and he drew me back, pulling me around slightly as we walked toward the windows. “Michelle does not think Diana could take a sudden shock like our departure. Do you concur?”

  “Yes! We almost lost her. Hopefully she will recover quickly, but we cannot abandon her now.”

  In the dim light I saw a quick flash of his smile. “But that is what we must do. You must follow my lead, regardless. Now it is my turn to improvise. First, however, you must tell Diana that we shall not truly leave her—that we shall be back in two days at most. Tell her to be friendly with her aunt—no talk of sending her away—and let her know we shall be close at hand. Lord, I hope there is something of the actress in her. Tell her this is for her and for her Adam.”

  I stared at him. “Tell her when?”

  “Momentarily.” His voice had been very quick; we had spoken for only a minute. He spun around and stepped nearer to the three women. Michelle was standing with her arms folded, while Arabella was still mouthing consolations and hugging Diana. This went on for a long while.

  “I know it’s hard to understand, but you’ll be better off without him. We both shall be. Oh, I cannot help blaming myself for this, even though I did nothing to encourage him—I promise you! In fact I…”

  “Enough of that particular topic, Lady Verr. I have a favor to ask of you, and then we must have our reckoning.”

  Arabella had her long arm round Diana’s back, her hand grasping her shoulder tightly. “A favor? You dare to ask a favor of me after your behavior this evening?”

  “It is because of my behavior that I ask it. I fear I may have injured your wrist inadvertently. Would you allow Dr. Doudet Vernier to examine it?”

  She laughed. “You have a nerve, sir!”

  “Please, indulge me in this. It will take only a moment. Henry can attend to Diana while Michelle has a look under the light. She can also check Hamswell. The blame lies with him, but I would like to be certain he has not been harmed.”

  Arabella hesitated, but Michelle drew nearer. “Please, Arabella. Let me make sure that none of the ligaments or tendons are injured. Please.” Michelle used her most honeyed and coaxing tone.

  Arabella smiled. “Oh, very well.” She turned again to Sherlock. “Anything to salve your guilty conscience, Mr. Holmes.”

  Michelle took her by the arm and led her toward the lamp. “Can you open and close your hand without difficulty?”

  I stepped nearer to Diana. She stared up gravely at me, her mouth twisting. “I—I feel so odd.”

  The others had their backs to me, and I stepped forward and gave her a quick embrace. “I’m sure you do!” I drew back, but I grasped her right hand with my own. Her fingers were cold. “Listen, we have only a moment. We are friends, are we not? And you know I only want what is best for you and Adam.”

  “Adam,” she murmured.

  “You know that?”

  “Yes. Certainly.”

  “Then trust me. Sherlock would never abandon you—I will not abandon you—but we must pretend to do so. We shall be back in two days at most, I promise. Go along with your aunt—say nothing of sending her away—in fact you must act as if you trust her, not us. But know that she is your enemy—your deadly enemy. Above all, you must not give us away—or yourself. In fact… I’ll wager you could easily cry just now?”

  Her laugh was almost a moan, and she nodded.

  “If you don’t know what to say or how to act—just cry. That should work. This is for your safety and for Adam.” I drew back. “Can you forgive him?”

  Again she stared up at me. “Should I?”

  “Yes. It is not so simple as it seems. I shall explain later. Just trust us—and wait for us. All right?” She nodded. “Good girl. I know you can do it.” I smiled and hoped with all my heart that she could.

  I touched her elbow lightly, and we walked nearer to the others. Michelle was still probing at Arabella’s forearm. “Does this hurt? And this? Good, good.”

  Holmes had turned, and his eyes locked on mine. I gave a quick nod. He swept closer, then his hand shot out and seized Diana’s free hand, gave it a quick squeeze. They both appeared startled. His smile was almost a grimace, and then he stepped away. The gesture was an indication of his great concern; normally he would never touch a young woman in that way.

  “Henry,” he said. “You might attend to Hamswell.”

  “That’s not necessary.” Hamswell was on his feet. He approached slowly, a dull anger in his eyes. “I’m perfectly all right. You surprised me. That’s all. In a fair fight—”

  Holmes laughed. “Believe what pleases you, sir. I am happy you are none the worse for wear. No bump on the head when you fell?”

  “None.”

  “Excellent.” He glanced at Michelle. “And Lady Verr has not been harmed?”

  Michelle shook her head. “She has full movement, and I don’t really see any sign of bruising.”

  “That is a great relief.”

  Arabel
la made a fist with the hand which had just been examined. “Your impudence defies belief, sir! I think you spoke of a reckoning.”

  Holmes folded his arms sternly. “I did.”

  “You have outworn my hospitality, Mr. Holmes.”

  “Odd you should say that—because I have had quite enough of all the lunacy in this neighborhood! First there was that raving madman with his kite whom you were so eagerly pursuing, then there is Sir Nathaniel with his absurd fixation on giant serpents, and now finally there is young Selton. He brought me here because of some ludicrous fear of white worms and the Marsh women, but he has behaved more and more stupidly. I have come to believe he is only the victim of some bizarre, extended practical joke, nothing truly criminal, and I am sick and tired of his unmanly hysterics over such utter nonsense. Today’s buffoonery with you is the last straw—he has betrayed my trust. I am done with him, and I am done with you, madam!” Holmes’s voice had grown louder and louder.

  “Then feel free to leave, sir.”

  “So I shall!” Holmes roared.

  “Mr. Holmes?” Diana said, her brow knitted up.

  I watched her closely and wondered if she could pull it off.

  “And you—you let yourself be led around by the nose by this madwoman with her menageries and ludicrous whims! Send her away at once—this instant, and I might reconsider. Otherwise I am done with you forever. It is your aunt or Sherlock Holmes? You must choose!”

  My lips drew back involuntarily, my teeth clenching. I knew it was pretense, but Holmes was most convincing. I hoped Diana understood.

  She stared at him, her mouth half open. Arabella moved closer and seized her arm. “Let him go, my darling—let them all go! They do not truly care for you—none of them do. They do not love you as I do. It shall be you and me together, Diana—the last of the Marsh women!”

  Diana stared at Holmes, then sobbed and turned away, letting Arabella engulf her in her embrace.

  “Excellent—very good!” Holmes shouted. “As you wish. And I—I shall not remain an instant longer in this madhouse! I shall go immediately to Lesser Hill and leave for Whitby in the morning.”

  “You and your friends may stay the night, Mr. Holmes,” Arabella said. “I shall treat you better than you have treated me. It is late, and I shall not send you packing this instant.”

  “As I said, I’ll not stay a moment longer! I shall take my things and leave at once. I can have the wagonette sent over first thing in the morning for Henry and Michelle.” He glanced at us, and we both nodded.

  “As you wish,” Arabella said.

  Diana continued to weep in earnest, and Arabella said, “There, there,” and patted her back. Arabella looked up. The green spectacle lenses hid her eyes, but her face revealed her sense of triumph. In the set of her beautiful mouth, in that victorious smile, I saw something cruel and malicious. I hoped Diana was only following my advice, but I could not be certain. Holmes whirled about and strode away toward the stairway. Michelle stared uneasily at Diana and Arabella. “Michelle,” I murmured softly. She sighed, then came over. I took her hand and started for the stairs. We were halfway up when she squeezed my hand tightly. “I hope Sherlock knows what he is doing.”

  “I hope so too,” I whispered.

  He was waiting for us at the top of the stairs. “Come with me while I get my bags ready. I must leave at once.”

  I started to follow, then stopped. “Adam—I nearly forgot about him! He’s waiting for me.”

  “He can wait a little longer, and then you and I shall both go down.” Holmes stepped into his room. He must have foreseen how things might go, because his two full bags were waiting by the bed. “I have a few final things to pack.” He went to the bureau and pulled out a drawer.

  “Isn’t this carrying your outrage a bit far? You could wait until morning.”

  He shook his head. “No, I cannot. I shall leave with Selton but not stop at Lesser Hill. I am certain he will lend me a horse. I am going on to Whitby.”

  “Whitby!” I said. “This late?”

  “I shall be there around midnight and go straight to see Mr. Pratt.” He put a jacket and a small leather case in his bag. “I should be back with two of his men by morning. They will watch the house tomorrow and join us at night for the May Day rites.”

  Michelle shook her head. “Oh Sherlock, are you certain about this? Diana was truly desperate out there. I think she is ultimately sensible, but to leave her alone in such a state—or worse, to leave her with her aunt! Is there no other way?”

  Holmes gave his head a brusque shake. “None. I am absolutely certain Lady Verr plans to kill her niece, but I haven’t a shred of real proof. Nor can I prove that she drove her husband to suicide, that she had Evans hurled into the pit, or that she has been trying to frighten away Adam Selton. The only way is to catch her in the act.”

  “But it is so dangerous!” Michelle exclaimed. “Diana might still try to harm herself—or Arabella might simply murder her tomorrow during the day!”

  “That is why the men will be watching the house, and I also have an inside ally—Mrs. Troughton. I have not told her everything, but I have prepared her. Henry, after I leave, you must let her know that the policemen will be nearby, as she and I discussed, and that if Diana seems in immediate danger, she can go outside and call for assistance.”

  Michelle stared at him bleakly and shook her head.

  A grotesque, agonized smile pulled at Holmes’s mouth, something akin to a spasm or tremor. “Besides, Michelle, in general, a human sacrifice requires a living victim.”

  Michelle groaned. “Oh, I do not like this.”

  Holmes shook his head violently. “Nor do I, but it seems the only way. I have racked my brains over and over, but it is the best I could come up with.”

  I bit at my lower lip. “I suppose so.”

  Holmes scooped up some shoes, stuffed them into one bag, then lifted both bags by their handles. “I must go. You two can keep an eye on Diana tonight. I shall send the wagonette over early for you in the morning. Lady Verr must think she has won, that I am a proud blundering fool, and that we have retreated.”

  Michelle again shook her head. “How could she possibly think we would just leave Diana?”

  Holmes smiled. “She is not like you, Michelle—not at all. She assumes that everyone is ultimately as selfish and vain as she. I think she also believes that I have my eyes fixed on Adam Selton, that I am ignorant of the danger to Diana. I tried to convince her of that with my blustering.” He glanced at me. “Let’s go, Henry.”

  * * *

  The wagonette arrived early the next morning, and Michelle and I left after saying our farewells. Diana looked pale and unhappy. Michelle and I were grave as we embraced her. Lady Verr was probably the only one who had slept well the night before. Her cheeks had a slight flush, and her beautiful mouth still formed that arrogant smile of triumph. She behaved as if we were all still the best of friends and as if nothing the least unusual had happened the evening before.

  Michelle and I sat together in the wagonette. We saw Diana and Arabella standing before the tall oaken doors with Angela nearby in the shadows. Arabella wore the usual white dress along with her emerald necklace and green spectacles, Angela her black maid’s dress, while Diana was in blue. Diana and Arabella’s red hair shone in the light. Angela’s full sensual lips formed a slight, bitter smile. Arabella kept waving a long while.

  Michelle and I certainly had not slept well. We had been up discussing the situation and our misgivings until around three in the morning. Holmes, of course, had been busy all night long: he had gone to Whitby, talked to Pratt, sought out the two men, slept only a couple of hours, then returned with the policemen well before dawn.

  Adam Selton had also slept little. Holmes had told him everything—that Arabella was behind it all—the letters, the White Worm, the threats—and that she planned to kill Diana for her inheritance. The moment he heard Diana was in danger, Adam had immediately turned and s
tarted back for Diana’s Grove. Holmes had to use a mixture of berating, threats, reasoning and cajoling to get him turned round and pointed back at Lesser Hill. Adam was still pacing about uneasily when we arrived that morning. We had to reassure him that Diana had been perfectly well when we left.

  I had hoped to be able to rest after the long night, but Holmes insisted that we must all leave at once for Whitby. He explained that Lady Verr was not such a fool as to take anything at face value. Undoubtedly she had her agents, perhaps members of the White Worm cult, who would be watching. We must be seen to leave Lesser Hill, arrive at Whitby and depart on the train.

  “Depart on the train!” I exclaimed.

  And so we did, shortly after eleven that morning. On the platform, the three of us spoke with Adam, stepped into the first-class carriage and waved goodbye from the window. Adam’s huge forearm and hand swept back and forth in reply. We went a few miles into the nearby valley, and then the train came to a wheezing huffing stop. We disembarked with our bags and found Mr. Pratt waiting with a wagonette. He drove us round Whitby up through the woods and out onto the barren, grassy ridge above the sea.

  We headed inland and spent most of the afternoon at a small cottage on the moors where Pratt’s sister and her husband lived. Michelle and I did get in a brief nap. Holmes explained that the ceremony would most likely take place around midnight, when the tide was at its highest, but he wanted us all hidden in place early. He tried briefly to convince Michelle to remain safely behind at the cottage, but of course, she would hear none of it. He knew her well enough to yield. He and Pratt departed around five that afternoon. They were going to check in with the two men who were hidden at Diana’s Grove watching the house. Michelle and I left with Pratt’s brother-in-law, a Mr. Dodd, toward dusk.

  By the time we reached Lesser Hill, the color had mostly faded from the scattered clouds along the high moorlands—those pinks, oranges and violet tints—and the stars had begun to appear. Dodd remained behind while Michelle and I started up the path through the grass to the rise overlooking the sea. Silhouetted against the vast sky was Adam Selton, his back to us, his right hand gripping his left wrist.

 

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