The New Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes by Martin Edwards Read Free Book Online

to say that the author of these fictions has a mind as creative as it is cruel. He - or she - tailors his allegations most carefully to the recipient of the poison. Thus, an important client was told a malicious and wholly invented story about William’s professional negligence in the preparation of an important balance sheet. A friend with whom he plays cricket and billiards was led to believe that William earned notoriety at Oxford for cheating at cards. Charles Follett, William’s employer - you may have read that he recently became engaged to the singer, Miss Lotty Bicknell - received a letter claiming that William had stolen funds from one of the firm’s trust accounts. The letters sent to my father and myself contained a host of disgraceful allegations, including claims relating to a young lady of William’s past acquaintance that, if true, would unquestionably have warranted criminal prosecution. It is filth, Mr. Holmes, filth and lies!"
    My friend nodded. His eyes were half-shut and a casual observer might have supposed him to be asleep. “Pray continue.”
    Miss Pyemont swallowed. “What I cannot understand is this. Who would want to hurt my William? He is the mildest-mannered of men, kinder and gentler than anyone I have ever met before. I tell you this, in all sincerity. Until the inception of this wretched correspondence, I did not believe that he had an enemy in the world.”
    “Show me the man who has no enemies,” Sherlock Holmes said softly, “and I shall show you a man who has lived in vain. And now, Miss Pyemont, perhaps you would care to satisfy my curiosity. Am I right in surmising that your betrothal to Mr. Cropper has not met with universal approval?”
    She flushed, but when she spoke her voice was steady. “There is someone who - believes that he and I had an understanding. A misunderstanding might be nearer the mark. When I broke the news to him about William, he was shocked.”
    “His name?”
    “Samuel Noone. He is a business partner of my father’s and is fifteen years my senior. I have known him since I was a child. His wife died two years ago and I felt sorry for him.” Miss Pyemont lowered her eyes. She might, I thought, have been sixteen years old. “We spent a good deal of time together and it is possible - that certain things I have said to him were capable of misinterpretation. But I always regarded him as a friend, a benevolent uncle if you like. Never as a prospective husband.” Holmes nodded. “I must ask you to tell me what he said to you when you told him you intended to marry William Cropper.”
    “He told me I would never be happy,” Arabella Pyemont said in a low voice. “He lost his temper and said Cropper was a nobody, someone who was only interested in his own advancement and getting his hands on my father’s money. It was an outrageous accusation to make, Mr. Holmes, and my response was anything but temperate. We argued furiously. My father told me to apologise and I refused.”
    “Your father wanted you to marry Mr. Noone?”
    “He thinks his partner would make an admirable husband,” she said bitterly. “But Samuel is staid and set in his ways. I could not commit the rest of my life to him.”
    “Can you conceive that Mr. Noone may be responsible for sending the anonymous letters?”
    She shook her head. “I have contemplated the possibility, I cannot deny it. But the letters are so vicious, so terrible. I shudder at the thought that he might be capable of such vileness.”
    “A scorned lover may wreak a terrible revenge,” said Holmes and from the note of awe in his voice, I surmised that he was recalling the case of Chilton, the Walthamstow plumber.
    Tears had formed in Arabella Pyemont’s eyes. “The truth is, Mr. Holmes, I no longer know what to believe. If the persecution continues, William will be destroyed by it. Frankly, Mr Follett has shown more forbearance to date than one might have anticipated, but he has indicated that if any of the