Victorian Villainy by Michael Kurland Read Free Book Online Page B

determine cause of death. After a brief consultation, the jury returned a verdict of unlawful death.
    “Thank you,” Sir George said. “You have done your duty. I assume,” he said, looking over at Sergeant Meeks, “that there is no need for me to suggest a course of action to the police.”
    “No, sir,” Meeks told him. “Professor Maples will be bound over for trial at the assizes.”
    Sir George nodded. “Quite right,” he said.
    “Bah!” Holmes said to me in an undertone.
    “You disagree?” I asked.
    “I can think of a dozen ways Faulting could have pulled that trick,” he said. “That young man—Cramper—didn’t see Andrea Maples in the doorway, he saw a flash of something white.”
    “Perhaps,” I said.
    “Bah!” Holmes repeated.
    When we left the building Miss Lucy came over to Holmes and pulled him away, talking to him in an earnest undertone. I walked slowly back to my rooms, trying to decide what to do. I disliked interfering with the authorities in their attempted search for justice, and I probably couldn’t prove what I knew to be true, but could I stand by and allow an innocent man to be convicted of murder? And Maples would surely be convicted if he came to trial. There was no real evidence against him, but he had the appearance of guilt, and that’s enough to convince nine juries out of ten.
    About two hours later Holmes came over, his eyes shining. “Miss Lucy is a fine woman,” he told me.
    “Really?” I said.
    “We talked for a while about her sister. That is, she tried to talk about Andrea, but she kept breaking down and crying before she could finish a thought.”
    “Not surprising,” I said.
    “She asked me if I thought Professor Maples was guilty,” Holmes told me. “I said I was convinced he was not. She asked me if I thought he would be convicted if he came to trial. I thought I’d better be honest. I told her it seemed likely.”
    “You told her true,” I commented.
    “She is convinced of his innocence, even though it is her own sister who was killed. Many—most—people would allow emotion to override logic. And she wants to help him. She said, ‘Then I know what I must do,’ and she went off to see about hiring a lawyer.”
    “She said that?” I asked.
    “She did.”
    “Holmes, think carefully. Did she say she was going to hire a lawyer?”
    Holmes was momentarily startled at my question. “Well, let’s see. She said she knew what she must do, and I said he’s going to need the best lawyer and the best barrister around to clear himself of this, for all that we know he is not guilty.”
    “And?”
    “And then she said she would not allow him to be convicted. And she—well—she kissed me on the cheek, and she said, “Goodbye, Mr. Holmes, you have been a good friend.’ And she hurried off.”
    “How long ago did she leave you?”
    “Possibly an hour, perhaps a bit longer.”
    I jumped to my feet. “Come, Holmes,” I said, “we must stop her.”
    “Stop her?”
    “Before she does something foolish. Come, there’s no time to waste!”
    “Does what?” he asked, hurrying after me as I hastened down the hall, pulling my coat on.
    “Just come!” I said. “Perhaps I’m wrong.”
    We raced out of the college and over to Barleymore Road, and continued in the direction of the Maples’ house at a fast walk. It took about ten minutes to get there, and I pushed through the front door without bothering to knock.
    Mr. Crisboy was sitting in the parlor, staring at the wall opposite, a study in suspended motion. In one hand was a spoon, in the other a small bottle. When we entered the room he slowly put both objects down. “Professor Maples depends on this fluid,” he said. “Two spoons full before each meal.” He held the bottle up for our inspection. The label read: Peals Patented Magical Elixir of Health. “Do you think they’d let me bring him a few bottles?”
    “I’m sure they would,” I told him. “Do you know where Lucy