Announcement published in The Times of London, Friday, July 1, 1904:
The forthcoming marriage is announced between Sir Edward, 31st Lord Strongborough, Baron of Cuthbert, and Mademoiselle Jeanne Darcieux de Maupertuis of Vendôme, France. The ceremony will take place at Strongborough Hall, Surrey, later this month.
Excerpt of a letter from Jeanne Darcieux to Paul Daubreuil, Thursday, September 8, 1904:
Dear Paul,
I cannot believe that I am writing this to you, but the nightmare has returned. Death again surrounds me, creeping over me, casting an invisible shroud over my life. As I wrote to you in my last letter, young Anthony passed away of gastric fever two weeks ago. Edward was, understandably, devastated by the death of his only son, who was the light of both our lives. Major Roland, Dr. Taylor and the other stewards of the Jockey Club have all tried to console him and shake him out of his dark mood, but nothing seems to work. He had the most terrible row with Dr. Taylor, and has simply refused to see Major Roland. He now spends most of his time alone, barricaded in his room, just like my stepfather once did. That is a most horrible reminder of the evil days at Maupertuis...
Excerpt of a letter from Jeanne Darcieux to Paul Daubreuil, Tuesday, September 20, 1904:
Dear Paul,
My life is now worse than it has ever been, if such a thing is possible. There have been foul words spread about Anthony’s death. Hushed whispers about poison. I see the way the staff now looks at me. I am the foreign Jezebel who has taken the place of their beloved mistress...
Excerpt of a letter from Jeanne Darcieux to Paul Daubreuil, Monday, October 3, 1904:
Dear Paul,
Last night, Major Roland called to see Edward. They spent some time together in his office. The Major looked quite unhappy when he left. We talked a bit afterwards. He mentioned that Mister Sherlock Holmes himself had agreed to come out of retirement and travel to Paris to tackle the affair of the Blue Diamond and give a sound thrashing to “that wretched braggart, Lupin,” as he called you. He does not know what happened between us at Maupertuis, of course. I am so worried about you, my dearest friend. They say that Mister Holmes has no equal. Please, be careful. Here, even Edward, when I do see him, which is not often these days, has started to regard me with suspicion. I do not know to whom to turn. I feel as if an invisible noose is tightening around my neck and I am utterly powerless to stop it...
Excerpt of a letter from Jeanne Darcieux to Paul Daubreuil, Tuesday, November 1, 1904:
Dear Paul,
The news is too horrible for words. Edward died last night. He succumbed to the same gastric fever as Anthony. He had been complaining of stomach pains, then fell prey to nausea and much vomiting. He was taken to the hospital yesterday. Dr. Taylor rushed to his side but it was too late.
Excerpt of a letter from Jeanne Darcieux to Paul Daubreuil, Thursday, November 17, 1904:
Dear Paul,
There is now talk of an inquest. The Police were here and questioned me and the staff... That man of yours whom you mentioned in your last letter never arrived. I hope nothing befell him. I feel as if I am being watched. In your last letter, you said you were en route to Uruguay. I so wish you could be here. I am certain you would untangle the mystery of what happened in no time. I have made a note of the lawyer you recommended, Sir Edward Leithen, should the need arise...
Article published in The Times of London, Tuesday, December 6, 1904:
Lady Strongborough was arrested today on suspicion of having poisoned her husband. The Home Secretary ordered that the bodies of Lord Strongborough and that of his son, Anthony, deceased August 25 last, be exhumed and checked for poison...
Excerpt of a letter from Jeanne Darcieux to Paul Daubreuil, Monday, December 12, 1904:
Dear Paul,
Dr. Taylor does not trust the Police; he insisted on supervising the removal of the organs for analysis. I think he is afraid of the scandal. I am being treated as if I had the plague. No one will see me or talk to me. I have written to Sir Edward to retain his counsel, although I pray every day that his assistance will not be required and I will awaken from this nightmare...
Article published in The Times of London, Thursday, December 15, 1904:
Traces of a poison called cadmium were found in both bodies. Cadmium is soluble in acid foods and the Police suspect it was administered to the victims in lemonade prepared by Lady Strongborough. Traces of cadmium were also found in medicine being taken by Lord Strongborough...
Article published in The Times of London, Monday, December 19, 1904:
Today, at the inquest into the death of Lord Strongborough, Constable Barnaby presented evidence that bottles containing cadmium compounds were found in the photographic laboratory set up for Lady Strongborough by her late husband in what used to be the conservatory...
Article published in The Times of London, Wednesday, December 21, 1904:
Today, at the inquest into the death of Lord Strongborough, the jury recorded a verdict of willful murder against person or persons unknown...
Excerpt of a letter from Jeanne Darcieux to Paul Daubreuil, Thursday, January 12, 1905:
Dear Paul,
It has now been two months since your last letter and I am still without news of you. I continue to write to the safe address you gave me in Paris, hoping that my letters are reaching you, wherever you might be. I pray every day for your safe return, for I believe you, and you alone, can put an end to this awful nightmare I am living. I did not poison my husband, Paul, upon my soul, and neither did I poison young Anthony, who was as dear to me as if he had been my own son. The Press has reported that serious irregularities have been discovered in the accounts of the Jockey Club. Apparently, Edward had a secret life about which I knew nothing. They say I killed him because I wanted to get my hands on his fortune before he was irremediably disgraced and ruined, but this is ridiculous, for I am wealthy too in my own right. I have property in France and I could have helped poor Edward had he but asked. They also say that I was the only one who could have poisoned him because I have access to cadmium, even though I was always careful to lock up my laboratory and none of the chemicals were ever missing...
Article published in The Times of London, Wednesday, Febuary 1, 1905:
Lady Strongborough’s trial began today at the Old Bailey. As the prosecuting counsel, Mister Erskine-Brown, laid out his case, everyone present was silent and somber. Lady Strongborough appeared vulnerable, seemingly on the verge of tears and, at one stage, she shook her head in grief as she heard some of the agonizing details of her husband’s last moments. Sir Edward Leithen, counsel for the defense, made a remarkable opening statement in which he urged the jury to look beyond the circumstantial evidence that he called a “web of deceit.” Right from the outset, the jury was left in no doubts as to the magnitude of the case. The judge, Mister Justice Wargrave, warned them that a case of this length, lasting possibly up to three months, was physically strenuous and advised them not to be swayed by the oratorical tricks of the defense and to look at “nothing but the facts”...
Excerpt of a letter from Jeanne Darcieux to Paul Daubreuil, Tuesday, March 14, 1905
Dear Paul,
I am still without news of you. I fear the worst. Sir Edward Leithen is mounting what I believe they call a “vigorous defense,” yet the autopsy results speak against me. No one, certainly not I, can explain the presence of the fatal cadmium in the bodies. The Judge seems prejudiced against me. They call him a “hanging judge.” I fear the worst...
Article published in The Times of London, Monday, April 3, 1905:
Lady Strongborough Found Guilty... Lady Strongborough burst into tears as Mister Justice Wargrave delivered the ritual sentence: “The sentence of the court upon you is that you be taken from this place to a lawful place of execution and that you be hanged by the neck until you are dead. And may God have mercy on your soul.”
Excerpt of a letter from Jeanne Darcieux to Paul Daubreuil, Wednesday, April 5, 1905
:
Dear Paul,
This is my last letter to you and I can only pray that it will find you in good health, even if comes too late to alter my fate, which now seems sealed. I am innocent, but I have reconciled myself to my destiny. Tomorrow, I shall walk to the gallows praying only that nothing evil has befallen you, my dearest friend...
Report from Lt. Colonel Venables, Governor of the Prison of Pentonville, Thursday, April 6, 1905:
The execution was set for 8 a.m. The night before, Lady Strongborough was visited by her counsel, Sir Edward Leithen. I was told that she had accepted her fate and that, apart from a slight nervous twitch at the corner of her mouth, she was calm. After Sir Edward had left, she was given brandy and water and at 11 p.m. she slept. She was awakened at 5 a.m. to prepare herself for a visit from the Prison Chaplin, Reverend Fergusson. The Reverend stayed with Lady Strongborough until 7 a.m. and tried to get her to confess that she was guilty, but she steadfastly denied that she had poisoned either her husband or his son and categorically maintained her innocence. At 7:30 a.m., Lady Strongborough was given a cup of tea with more brandy and water. At 7:40 a.m., she was joined in the condemned’s cell by Under Sheriff Regan and myself. We told her that the time had come to carry out the sentence and she was quietly led to courtyard where the gallows had been erected the day before. Here, we were joined by William Billington, the hangman, who was introduced to Lady Strongborough, who showed no emotion. Mister Billington tied her hands and she asked that he not draw the rope too tight before the drop. She was extremely calm at this point. She was then taken to the chapel where she received the final sacraments. At 7:55 a.m., the prison’s death bell tolled, which marked the start of the procession to the gallows. Reverend Fergusson read extracts from the burial service. We were joined by the Head Turnkey, Mister Daley, and two warders, George Bulman and Derek Willis. As we walked across the yard to the gallows, a man was suddenly ushered in by warder Kavanagh. He shouted that the execution be stopped and indicated that he was holding a reprieve signed by Mister Akers-Douglas, the Home Secretary himself. “It’s him!” screamed Lady Strongborough. “I knew he would not abandon me. I knew he would not be too late! It’s Arsène Lupin!” “Shut up, you little git,” said Mister Daley. “Don’t you recognize Mister Sherlock Holmes?”
Excerpt from the Private Notebooks of John H. Watson, M.D., undated, but likely written in late April 1905:
My friend Mister Sherlock Holmes asked me to pen a few notes on the strange case of Lady Strongborough in which he was so fortunate as to be able to save her from the hangman’s noose with but minutes to spare.
For reasons that will become clear to my reader, I seriously doubt that I will ever write, even less publish, a full account of this case, but it is sufficiently worthy for me to record some of the bare facts in this Journal.
As I have recorded in my account entitled “The Reigate Puzzle,” Holmes had already crossed the path of, and thwarted Paul Darcieux, Baron Maupertuis, in the Spring of 1887. It was, therefore, the most amazing coincidence that he was called upon to save the life of the man’s stepdaughter 18 years later, during his retirement in the South Downs.
On referring to my notes, I see that I made a copy of the cable which Holmes received on March 22, and that started his investigation. It came from some God-forsaken city called Malatya, deep inside the Ottoman Empire, and had been relayed through the British Embassy in Constantinople. It merely read: “STRONGBOROUGH MURDER STOP DEADLY COURT STOP SIGNED AL.”
Under normal circumstances, Holmes would have ignored the message, as he receives many such nonsensical correspondences from various benighted souls all around England and even from other parts of the Empire. But there was the signatory: “AL.”
At Holmes’ request, his brother, Mycroft, called on some of his associates in Turkey and, two days later, we learned that Malatya was deep inside hostile territory held by a mad warlord known locally as the “Red Sultan.” As the report went, a single westerner, a man in his thirties, had fought and defeated 40 of the Red Sultan’s warriors to invade a telegram office and, there, had held a small army at bay during the time it took to relay that cable via Constantinople. Apparently, no more could be sent. The report labeled the man “clearly insane” while praising his bravery. When he read this, Holmes no longer had any doubts as to the identity of “AL.”
Of all the enemies Holmes has fought during his tumultuous career, none, not even the nefarious Professor Moriarty or Charles-Augustus Milverton, have ever been able to get under my friend’s skin as much as the Frenchman. “The Frenchman” or He or Him was, in fact, how he most often referred to him when we discussed him, which was a rare occurrence at best. Perhaps it was a habit unconsciously borrowed from Chief Inspector Ganimard. All of Holmes’ other foes had, in effect, played the game according to the same rules. But with him, there were no rules. It was like grappling with quicksilver.
Having ascertained that the cable from Malatya came from him, my friend set to work immediately.
In just under a week, he had untangled the mystery. However, it took all of his considerable influence to convince the Home Secretary of Lady Strongborough’s innocence and get him to sign the reprieve which, thank God, he was able to deliver just in time to spare the poor woman’s life.
I shall now jot down the conversation that ensued later that selfsame day between Sherlock Holmes and Lady Strongborough, which I had the privilege of attending.
“I owe you my life, Mister Holmes,” said Lady Strongborough, who was still understandably shaken by her ordeal.
At that point, my friend pulled out the cablegram and showed it to her.
“This is not entirely true, Madam,” said Holmes, thoughtfully. “Your guardian angel came through, I believe.”
Lady Strongborough read the cable and began crying, silently, without sobs; tears rolled gently down her cheeks as if the weight of the grim fate she had just been spared had suddenly crushed her gentle soul. We gave her time to recover. Then, she said:
“I am most grateful that you showed me this, Mister Holmes. And naturally thrilled that it made sense to you. But I confess that I do not understand. What does ‘deadly court’ mean? Is it a reference to Judge Wargrave?...”
“It is not ‘deadly court,’ Lady Strongborough–that was likely an error in the transmission–but ‘deadly cort,’ also known as deadly galerina or cortinarius speciosissimus, one of the deadliest brown-capped fungi, found commonly throughout the American Northwest, and the symptoms of which could easily be mistaken for cadmium poisoning.”
“But the autopsy said...”
“This was a most unusual case. The man who strived to engineer your doom had a diabolical mind. Your husband, Lady Strongborough, was in fact murdered after all of you thought he had been poisoned. The evidence was then retroactively tampered with to make the facts fit the theory formulated by the Police.”
“So cadmium is not what killed Edward?”
“No. I will tell you the story as I reconstructed it. Your husband, I am sorry to say, Lady Strongborough, had been involved in some unpleasant business while in America 20 years ago. The sins of youth, some would say. A woman died in childbirth and so did the child. Much cause for scandal, if it were revealed publicly. Two years ago, the man whom you knew as Dr. Taylor appeared in London. He had known your husband in America and was well-acquainted with his past. He blackmailed him, first to get a position on the board of the Jockey Club, then to embezzle funds. But after his marriage to you, Lord Strongborough began to rebel; I believe he threatened to report Taylor to the Police.
“I have no doubt that Taylor decided to murder your husband at once, but I believe what gave him the idea on how to do it was young Anthony’s death, which was, in fact, completely natural and due to gastric fever, as had been correctly diagnosed at the time.
“Taylor knew of your photographic laboratory and saw how Anthony’s death could retroactively be made to look like cadmium poisoning. The criminal carried wi
th him some finely ground deadly cort that, no doubt, he had collected while in America. He merely waited for Lord Strongborough to be afflicted with gastroenteritis, as Anthony had been, and perhaps did as much he could to inflame the condition. When your husband was taken to the hospital, he rushed to his side and there, he administered the poison. Deadly cort is instantly fatal and would mimic the symptoms of cadmium poisoning, which is slower and more painful. Since everyone later assumed that your husband had been poisoned at the Manor, when he was initially taken ill, no one bothered to look at the hospital records.
“Then, the only thing left for Taylor to do was to fool the medical examiners by lacing the samples with carefully measured traces of cadmium. If you recall, he insisted on supervising the autopsies. All the evidence against you was retroactively fabricated to fit the case that he wanted the Police to make against you. As I said, it was one of the most diabolically ingenious murder schemes I have ever come across.”
“Have they arrested Dr. Taylor?” asked Lady Strongborough.
“I’m afraid that, as soon as he got wind of my involvement, he fled the country. That was, in fact, how I was able to persuade the Home Secretary that he was the murderer and that he should immediately grant your reprieve. I heard he’s fled back to France.”
“Fled back to France?”
“My investigation showed that he arrived from Paris in 1902. But I could find no more about him. He obviously is a most remarkable criminal. Perhaps he, I mean, your friend, will be able to shed more light on this... But, at least, you no longer have anything to fear, Lady Strongborough.”
Rouletabille and the Mystery of the Yellow Room Page 27