The Beekeeper's Apprentice - Laurie R. King [98]
“I told you, I do not think we shall be attacked.”
“And I am beginning to suspect that this opponent of yours knows you well enough to take your thoughts into account when planning his actions.”
“Slow as I am, Russell, that idea had come to me. Now.” He sat back. “Your turn. I need you to go through and tell me if there are any scraps that are not from your things. It will take some time, so I will send over that tall young PC to help you, and another to find some hot
drink. I shall go and examine the neighbourhood.”
“Take someone with you, Holmes, please.”
“After your performance out there they’ll be tripping over each other in their eagerness to protect my doddering old frame.”
It took some time to sift through the cab’s contents, but eventually, with the help of young PC Mitchell, I had a large pile of paper and fabric scraps heaped outside, and three thin envelopes in my hand. We climbed out of the cab and stood stretching the cricks out of our spines, drinking mugs of hot, sweet tea until Holmes reappeared with his eager bodyguards.
“Thank you, gentlemen, you have been most dutiful. Go and have some tea, now. Off you go, there’s a good fellow,” he said, giving the most persistent constable a pat between the shoulder blades that shoved him off towards the tea station. “Russell, what have you found?”
“One button, with a scrap of brown tweed attached, cut recently from its garment by a sharp instrument. Another thick smudge of light brown clay. And one blonde hair, not my own, considerably shorter. Plus a great deal of dust and rubbed-about dirt and débris, indicating that the cab has not been cleaned in some time.”
“It has also not been used in some time, Russell, so your three finds are undoubtedly worthy of our attention.”
“And you, Holmes, what have you found?”
“Several things of interest, but I need to smoke a pipe over them, perhaps two, before I have anything to say.”
“Will we be here long, Holmes?”
“Another hour, perhaps. Why?”
“I have been drinking champagne, then coffee, now tea. I cannot last another hour without doing something about it.” I was determined not to be embarrassed about the problem.
“Of course.” He looked around at the noticeable dearth of female company.“Have the older man—Fowler—show you the ...facilities ... in the park. Take a lamp with you.”
With dignity I summoned the man and explained the mission, and he led me off through the park along its soft gravel paths. We talked inconsequentially of children and green areas, and he stood outside as I entered the little building. I finished and went to wash my hands, placing the lamp on the shelf that stood above the basin. I reached for the tap and saw there a smear of light brown clay. I took the lamp to look more closely, unwilling to believe.
“Mr. Fowler,” I called sharply.
“Miss?”
“Go and get Mr. Holmes.”
“Miss? Is something wrong?”
“No, something is not wrong, for a change. Just get him.”
“But I shouldn’t ...”
“I’ll be safe. Just go!”
After a moment’s hesitation, his heavy footsteps went off quickly into the night. I heard his voice calling out loudly, answering shouts, and the thud of several running men returning up the path. Holmes stood at the door of the Ladies’, looking in uncertainly.
“Russell?”
“Holmes, could the man we’re looking for be a woman?”
Flight
She eludes us on every side; she repudiates most of our rules and breaks our standards to pieces.
ussell, you have struck the very question upon which I proposed to meditate with my pipe. You have also saved me from the worst sin a detective can commit: overlooking the obvious. Show me what you have found.” His eyes gleamed fiercely in the lamp-light. More lamps were sent for, and soon the little stone building blazed with light. Fowler was consulted and confirmed that the build-ing had been cleaned about eight o’clock