“I see. But how could a doctor be so mistaken?”
“That, we will discuss with him,” Holmes said austerely. “Now, I would like to speak to your cook, Mrs. Marcham.”
I held up a hand. “First, I wish to say something.” I looked at Mr. Addleton. “Another portion of your evidence was also inaccurate. You could not be expected to know, but I have had tests made, and can produce witnesses. We will discuss this too with the doctor.”
Mr. Addleton looked apprehensive. “Tests on what?”
I produced my letter and read from it.
…as you requested, we made tests on dough laced with arsenic, the dough then being cooked. This was done many times under a variety of conditions, and with varying amounts of the poison. At no time was there evidence that the presence of arsenic prevented the dough from rising to any degree and as it should. We thank you for a most interesting experiment and stand ready to give evidence before the law should such be required.
Yours, faithfully,
Here I listed the names of my illustrious colleagues who had obliged me in this. Mr. Addleton’s expression informed me that not only had he heard of their names, he was aware that their evidence would carry far more weight than his or the doctor’s opinion.
“But the powder,” he said urgently. “You cannot explain away the powder we found.”
“If you would call Mrs. Marcham,” was all Holmes said, and we remained silent until the cook arrived. Once she entered the room, Holmes made only one request.
“Will you please bring to us a list of your household purchases for the last quarter.”
Mrs. Marcham, a sturdy woman in her thirties, looked at her employer. He nodded and she left, to return in five minutes with a black notebook. “That’s it, sir,” she said, handing it to Holmes. “I write items in it as I come close to running out, then when I shop, I write a list from the book.”
“An excellent system. Now,” he pointed to a line. “What is this?”
“Pumice, sir. I buy it in pieces and grate it, adding grated soap flakes. It works a treat to scour pots or pans.”
“And if you had a pan with contents that could harden and make scouring them away difficult, might you place some of this in the water with which you filled the pan?”
Mrs. Marcham looked bewildered. “Indeed, sir. I often do so.”
“The soap would dissolve in the water, and the pumice powder would be left to assist in scouring the pan?”
“Yes, sir. As you say.”
“Thank you, that will be all.” The cook left, still puzzled, taking her notebook with her. Holmes turned to look at Mr. Addleton Senior, who stared back with a look of growing realization and horror.
“Pumice powder, it was pumice powder. I swore that child’s life away and I was wrong on all counts. But Doctor Airde? He was certain! He agreed with me, he found more of it himself. He’s a doctor!” The last cry was anguished.
I intervened. “We aren’t gods, Mr. Addleton. We can make mistakes. We’ll ask him about what we have discussed here, but you said you believed you were all poisoned. He was already disposed to think that, and it may be that he gave undue weight to the idea. There is also the question of Janet Pierce’s evidence, and that of your daughter-in-law.”
“What question?”
Holmes spoke gently. “Janet Pierce lied. She wished to obtain Mary’s position and thought to curry favor with your daughter-in-law by agreeing with what Mrs. Addleton said. Mary never stated that she could not like her employer again. Janet invented the words once she saw what Mrs. Addleton wanted of her. Mary did not, as your daughter-in-law swore, become sullen and pert in response to the reproof. That was Mrs. Addleton’s interpretation of her demeanor, backed by Janet’s agreement. But the lady was wrong, and she has a history of being wrong in such a way, does she not?”
“What?”
“Are you not aware of the court case that was brought against your daughter-in-law fifteen years ago? Mrs. Addleton traduced Ellen Trevor, now Blanton, and the girl took suit against her. Ellen was vindicated and your son and daughter-in-law were required to pay her a large sum. The circumstances of that case were similar to this one: a complete misinterpretation of a girl’s attitude followed by continued malicious gossip that destroyed the girl’s reputation.” He detailed the events and we could see the man had known little of the truth, which a moment later his words confirmed.
“I did hear something of that,” Mr. Addleton Senior said slowly. “I was given to believe that it had been a misunderstanding and that the girl had seen an opportunity to make money. You say that this was not so?”
“I do. It was a delight in mischief-making, and with a weaker girl or a fiancé who did not believe in her, the consequences could have been suicide or murder.”
“I had no idea, and I find it disturbing. You believe in the case of Mary, that my daughter-in-law was also wrong, and her evidence was incorrect?”
“That is my belief. If you wish to make amends for your own part in it, I would suggest that you go to the police and retract your evidence. You will be one of a number of people doing so,” he added significantly, and Mr. Addleton stared.
“Who?”
“A reporter and a newspaper editor amongst them,” Holmes said.
“Ah. I had seen those articles, and it confirmed my opinion.”
“Yes,” Holmes said. “Such stories do, and therein lies their danger. While they are built on sand as these lies were, people believe what they read and then twist what they saw or heard to fit the created opinion. I have been told by Colonel Denham and his wife that they have consulted a lawyer and plan to bring actions against both men. They are likely to be joined in that decision by Sarah Gildon, whom it was claimed was attacked by Mary and was some time in hospital in consequence. On the contrary. Mary saved Miss Gildon’s life at considerable risk to her own, and Miss Gildon is furious at what was said.”
“Jonathan also gave evidence.”
“And he lied,” Holmes sat flatly. “He made advances to the girl, she repulsed him, he became importunate, and she was forced to fight him off. He swore to get even for that, and in court, he did so. You may recall that some weeks before your illness Turner had a black eye and a bitten hand?”
“I do. He said that he was set upon by a man with a dog. He suggested their purpose was robbery.”
“There was no man, no dog. Mary defended herself. Or do you deny her that right?”
“I do not, I deny no woman such a right. I find it infamous that Jonathan should think it acceptable to behave like that. He shall do so no longer, not in this house.”
Mr. Addleton sat in silence, staring at the carpet. He had just raised his head when the door slammed open and Mrs. Addleton stormed in, halting in the doorway as she looked us over. I saw a woman I knew to be over forty who appeared ten years younger, a well-set-up lady with masses of carefully coiled black hair, fine gray eyes, and a figure well suited to current fashions. However, the eyes were stormy, and the full lips set in outrage.
“You have dismissed Janet? For what? On some lying tale told by men you do not know? This is my house. I hire or dismiss my servants. You closet yourself away, call in my servants and question them, all without asking my permission! This is too much.” She turned on us. “Both of you will leave immediately, or I shall call the police. I will not have such as you in my home, you—”
Her father-in-law’s voice cut through her ranting like an icy knife. “Silence!” He was on his feet, facing her. “These men are here by my wish. I do not require your permission. Janet is dismissed because it has been made known to me that she lied, that she gave false evidence in court. And on that subject…” She would have spoken but his voice overrode hers. “I have just now heard that you made false accusations against another young girl, and that you and my son paid dearly for it. I find it odd that I was never told the truth of that matter.”
“It was all lies.”
“Like your own,” Mr. Ad
dleton said quietly. “It has been described to me as malicious gossip and a delight in mischief-making that could have ended in great tragedy.”
“I will—”
“You will do nothing. Janet is dismissed, I will admit to the police any errors that I made. If the girl is released I shall, freely and without prejudice, provide her with an excellent reference and a sum of money as compensation for her treatment here. Jonathan Turner too is dismissed. I am told—and I believe it—that he made an attack on the girl, an attempted rape, and I will not countenance it.”
“You will not?”
His voice became quieter but no less incisive. “I will not. You still forget it is I who own this house and business. Yes, my son has a share, but the majority of both is mine. I will not have an apprentice who attacks a woman under my roof, in my service, and shame to you that you do not agree. Shame to you, too, that she did not trust you sufficiently to come to you to make a report. Jonathan is dismissed, his articles of apprenticeship are cancelled, and I will tell his family the reason. Should you see him before I do, tell him also that an inquiry is being made into his giving false evidence under oath at Mary’s trial.”
Mrs. Addleton gaped at him, made to speak, but her mouth snapped shut and she flounced out. We all saw the flash of hatred and fear in her eyes.
I assumed she was afraid of what her husband would say to all of this. I ignored that, for it was none of my business. Holmes was making for the door and I followed, Mr. Addleton Senior behind us. He showed us out and speaking cordially, said, “I cannot thank you for your revelations, but I must be grateful. Rest assured that I shall do all I can to mend my errors. Do you have hope for the girl?” His expression clouded. “Yet if it was not Mary, who was it? Michael, perhaps? He begged to be allowed to take leave even if it must be unpaid, and I allowed it. Do not say it was Michael. Or do you suspect Jonathan?”
Holmes shook the hand held out to him and turned to go before turning back briefly. “I have a suspect, sir. But I am not one to speak before I have proof. I ask only that if Michael returns you send for me, and that if possible you discover where Jonathan will reside once he leaves this house, and that I am notified of that also. You have my card.”
“It shall be done, sir.”
“Thank you.” And to me he spoke as we walked away. “Now for the doctor, Watson. I shall be most interested to hear what he has to say for himself.”
The doctor himself opened his door and peered at us. He was a short, tubby man of perhaps seventy years, with a weak chin, protuberant brown eyes, and a pompous, self-important manner. I disliked him on sight.
“Yes?” he said. “Well, speak up, my servants are out and I have no time for people I do not know. What do you want?” Holmes passed him a card. The doctor scanned it and looked contemptuous. “A private detective. I have no need of detectives.”
“Not even when you are about to have an action brought against you?” asked Holmes dulcetly.
“Eh? What? An action? Nonsense.” He made to close the door and I intercepted a look from Holmes.
“I am Dr. Watson,” I said. “You may not have heard of me, Dr. Airde, but you will undoubtedly have heard of….” I mentioned the names of my colleagues who had made certain tests for me. The doctor turned back.
“I’ve heard of them. So?”
“So,” I said blandly, “they will shortly be giving evidence in court. They will testify that the evidence you gave in a recent criminal case was completely inaccurate. It will also be proven that other parts of your evidence show you to be a man who does not know his job, a man who made assertions that are already disproved, and that your incorrect assertions led to an innocent girl being convicted, after which it was only by the exertions of concerned citizens that she was not hanged. Several people are considering bringing actions against you on these accounts.”
Dr. Airde’s face turned an odd shade of greenish-white and he fell back from his door. “Come in. I cannot credit what you tell me, but I shall get to the bottom of it. Come in and tell me the truth.”
We made ourselves at home in his parlor and Holmes initially left it to me. I strode to stand by the mantelpiece and began by discounting the doctor’s evidence and explaining on what authority. “You testified that the Addletons had been poisoned with arsenic,” I stated. “You based that on the patients’ symptoms, the blackened knives, the powder Mr. Addleton Senior found at the bottom of the dough pan, and the failure of the dumplings to rise as well as they should. But my eminent colleagues have disproved that last. I have the report here.”
He read their report and some of the pomposity left him.
Holmes spoke then. “Tell me, Dr. Airde, did it bother you to give evidence?”
The doctor’s gaze sharpened. “No, sir. It did not. Why, a good friend of mine, also a doctor, gave evidence in the trial of a poisoner many years ago. He later wrote a book that was well received.” He beamed, then seemed to recollect himself. “What other errors do you claim I made?”
I sat forward, my gaze on him. “There is the blackened cutlery. You stated in court that the knives were blackened. We have closely questioned Mr. Addleton Senior, and he admitted that all the cutlery used that evening was in this state. You were given two items to examine and you must have seen that they were tarnished only, not black as you suggested in court. You apparently are unaware that arsenic does not blacken silver cutlery—but cooked eggs may.” I explained about Mrs. Danforth’s dinner and he seemed to shrink further into his chair.
“The patients’ symptoms were those which can be found in many cases of poisoning by a wide array of dangerous substances, many of them common items from a garden.” I had observed that his house had no garden, only neat lawns bordered by wide flagstones. A system that would make the surroundings easy and cheap to keep tidied, but which would allow no experience of poisonous garden plants.
“Such as what plants?” His tone became contentious again.
“Beechnut seeds, celandine, of which all parts are poisonous, the roots in particular,” I listed. “Then there are daffodils, iris, and rhubarb leaves. Nor are these the only ones. What is certain is that it was not caused by the white powder—which you did not even bother to test.”
“Mr. Addleton said it was arsenic and that it had poisoned them.”
“Mr. Addleton,” I said sternly, “is not a medical man. He leapt to conclusions when he discovered that a parcel of arsenic was missing. We made inquiries, however, and discovered the powder to have been a mix of soap flakes and powdered pumice used for cleaning pots and pans. Nor,” I added scornfully, “would arsenic have precipitated in such a way. It is soluble in water, as this powder was not.”
“I—I did not know. He said it was arsenic, that a parcel was missing. It was white powder, and they had the symptoms.”
Holmes took over. “You made no tests of the powder?”
“Why should I? I believed it to be arsenic.”
“Would it not have been as well to verify that?”
“It’s easy to complain later on,” Dr. Airde said angrily. “I am a doctor, not a wizard. I spoke as I believed. It is not my fault if there was an error.”
“On the contrary, Doctor. It was for you to be sure of what you said on evidence. You are proven wrong on all counts, and I fear there may be consequences.” And with that he rose, sweeping me before him. “Good day to you, sir,” he said frostily, and glanced back as the door slammed viciously behind our retreating backs, asking in a jocular tone. “Tell me, Watson, is he typical of your breed?”
“No, he is not,” I snapped. “I have seen his like before, but they grow scarce. They have little knowledge of plants or creatures. Likely he’s had cases of plant poisoning before and stated them to be something else. What would his patients know to the contrary? He had poor training and that half a century ago. His kind pay no attention to new discoveries, nor do they keep their medical reading up to date. He does well enough in his own area, as most cases he see
s are common diseases, influenza or pneumonia, or wounds caused by an accident. He’d be competent enough with those. I find it odd, however, how set he was on agreeing with Mr. Addleton Senior, and that without even bothering to test the material found.”
Holmes nodded. “You understand him to a degree, Watson, but not entirely. You see a doctor who has lived in this place for all of his life. He is unknown outside of it, and what he seeks is respect, that his name is known by many. Did you not see his face light up when he talked of his friend? His friend whose testimony convicted a poisoner, and who later wrote a book that brought him money and renown. That was what Doctor Airde wanted.”
“And for that he was prepared to swear a girl’s life away without even knowing the truth?” I asked incredulously. “He is a doctor!”
Holmes’s tone was sad. “Yes, Watson, but even doctors are as other men. They may have hopes and ambitions, they may do foolish things to further these, and if they do, they may pay the price.”
We caught the train in silence and returned to London.
9
We arrived home at mid-afternoon and Mrs. Hudson met us in the hall to say that an urgent letter had arrived for Holmes, and that two gentleman had called and were waiting to speak to us, a Mr. Hemming and his son. Holmes bid me wait a moment while he opened the letter.
Holmes stood reading it and once he was done he scowled. “This calls me away in the morning and I cannot refuse. Let us go and see the gentlemen who are waiting, but I may be forced to call upon you to continue our investigation, Watson.”
I said that, as always, I would be willing to do anything I could and we went at once to our rooms, finding the gentlemen there, serious of face and deeply worried.
Mr. Hemming spoke as soon as we entered. “Gentlemen, we bring disturbing news. Those of influence who agreed originally to hold off on Mary’s execution have said they will do so no longer. They both received anonymous letters saying that there is a proposed shunning of their businesses, and they fear for their livelihoods. They have apologized to me, but while I regret what they will do, I cannot blame them.”
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