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It was during a bitterly cold and frosty morning when Yujin was awakened by a tugging at his shoulder. It was Herlock Sholmes. The candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face told Yujin at glance that something was amiss.

“Come, Mikotoba, come!” he cried. “The game is afoot. Into your clothes and come!”

Yujin rubbed his tired eyes wearily. “It’s still dark outside, Sholmes. What time is it?”

“I have done you the favour of waking you before we miss our train. Although, if you insist on knowing beforehand, then I will inform you of the matter.” Herlock drew a note out of his pocket and read it aloud:

“Abbey Grange, Marsham, Kent,
3:30AM

Dear Mr Holmes and Dr. Mikotoba:

I should be very glad of your immediate assistance in what promises to be a most remarkable case. It is quite in your line. Except for releasing the lady I will see that everything is kept exactly as I have found it, but I beg you not to lose an instance, as it is difficult to leave Sir Eustace there.
Yours faithfully,
Genshin Asogi.”

After reading the letter, Herlock tucked it back into his pocket. “Mr Asogi has called upon my deductive mind several times, and on each occasion his summons have been entirely justified,” he said. “I believe that you have written about these cases many times. Although, I must admit, Mikotoba, that you have a fatal habit of looking at everything from the point of view of a story instead of a scientific exercise. It has ruined what might have been an instructive and even classical series of demonstrations!”

“I thought that my accounts were-”

Herlock interrupted him before Yujin could finish his sentence. “You slur over work of the utmost finesse and delicacy in order to dwell upon sensational details which may excite, but cannot possibly instruct, the reader!”

“Why do you not write them yourself?” Yujin suggested, with some bitterness.

“I will, my dear Mikotoba, I will. At present I am, as you know, fairly busy, but I intend to devote my declining years to the composition of a textbook which shall focus the whole art of detection into one volume. Our present research appears to be a case of murder.”

“You think Sir Eustace is dead, then?”

“I should say so. Mr Asogi’s writing shows considerable agitation, and he is not an emotional man. Unless you insult his katana, of course. Yes, I gather there has been violence, and that the body is left for our inspection. A mere suicide would not have caused him to send for me. As for the release of the lady, it would appear that she has been locked in her room during the tragedy. You may also notice the coat-of-arms and picturesque address. We are moving into high life, Mikotoba! I think that our friend Mr Asogi will live up to his reputation and that we shall have an interesting morning. The crime was committed before twelve last night.”

“How can you possibly tell?”

“By an inspection of the trains and by reckoning the time. The local police had to be called in, they had to communicate with Scotland Yard, Mr Asogi had to go out, and he in turn had to send for me. All that makes a fair night’s work. Now, are you going to get ready, or shall I be forced to meet with Mr Asogi alone?”

Yujin groaned and reluctantly left the warmth of his bed.

—

Ten minutes later they were both in a cab and rattling through the silent streets towards Charing Cross Station. The first faint winter’s dawn was beginning to appear, and they could dimly see the occasional figure of an early workman as he passed by them, blurred and indistinct in the opalescent London reek. The air was bitter, and it wasn’t until they had consumed some hot tea at the station, and taken their places on the train, that they were sufficiently thawed.

After they disembarked from the train, they boarded another cab. A drive of a couple of miles through narrow country lanes brought them to a park gate, which was opened for them by an old lodge-keeper, whose haggard face bore the reflection of some great disaster. The avenue ran through a noble park, alongside a frozen pond with a single crack in the ice, between lines of ancient elms, and ended in a low, widespread house. The central part was evidently of great age and shrouded in ivy, but the large windows showed that modern changes had been carried out, and one wing of the house appeared to be entirely new.

Genshin greeted them from the open doorway, his eyes tired from the lack of sleep. “I’m very glad that you have both come, Mr Sholmes, Dr Mikotoba. You wouldn’t believe the night that I’ve had…”

“Did you come all the way from London?” Yujin asked him.

“Not quite. In truth, I was in the area with Lord van Zieks. He invited me on a hunting trip, but when we received a report about this, I offered to step in until Scotland Yard could assign someone else. I am technically still a student, after all.” he explained. “I should tell you, though, that the lady has come to herself and has given a clear account of the affair. There’s not much left for us to do. Mr Sholmes, do you recall the Lewisham gang of burglars?”

“The three Randalls? The elderly gentleman and his two sons?” Herlock recalled, shivering slightly in the cold.

“Exactly. It’s their work. They did a job at Sydenham a fortnight ago, and were seen and described. It is strange to do another so soon and so near, but the lady has confirmed it.”

“The driver told us a little bit about the crime on the way here,” Yujin recalled. “Sir Eustace Brackenstall is dead, is that correct?”

“His head was knocked in with his own poker,” Genshin responded as he placed a hand on his katana. “He was one of the richest men in Kent. Lady Brackenstall is inside. She has had the most dreadful experience. She seemed half dead when I saw her first. I recommend that you hear her account first, then we can examine the crime scene - the dining-room - together.”

Genshin led them towards Lady Brackenstall; she was resting in one of the side rooms. She was blonde and had blue eyes, although her recent experience had left her drawn and haggard. Over one eye rose a deep plum-coloured bruise, which her maid, a tall, austere woman, was bathing with great care. Lady Brackenstall’s gaze was quick and observant as they entered the room. She wore a dressing-gown of blue and silver, but a black sequin-covered dress was lying beside her.

“I have told you all that has happened, Mr Asogi,” she said, wearily.

“Forgive me, your ladyship, but I wished for them to hear your story,” Genshin told her, “I have faith in these two - Mr Herlock Sholmes and Dr Yujin Mikotoba. We may catch the burglars with their help.”

“I shall be glad when you can arrange matters. It is horrible to think of him still lying there.” Lady Brackenstall shuddered and buried her face in her hands. As she did so her gown fell back from her forearms. They were covered in faint bruises and two vivid red marks.

Yujin noticed this immediately. “You have other injuries! I’m a doctor, I can-”

She hastily covered it. “It is nothing. It has no connection with the hideous business of last night. If you and your friend will sit down, I will tell you all I can.”

Herlock noticed that Yujin was slightly agitated; he placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him to a seat. “We are all ears, your ladyship,” he said.

“I am the wife of Sir Eustace Brackenstall. I have been married for about one year. I suppose that it is no use my attempting to conceal that our marriage has not been a happy one. I fear that all our neighbours would tell you that, even if I were to attempt to deny it. Some would say the fault is partially mine - I was brought up in South Australia, and this English life, with its proprietors and its primness, is not agreeable to me. But the main reason lies in the one fact which is notorious to everyone, and that is that Sir Eustace was a drunkard. To be with such a man for an hour is unpleasant. Can you imagine what it means for a sensitive and high-spirited woman to be tied to him for day and night? It is a sacrilege, a crime, a villainy to hold that such a marriage is binding. I say that these monstrous laws of yours will bring a curse upon the land - Heaven will not let such wickedness ensure.”

For an instant she sat up, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes blazing from under the terrible mark upon her brow. Then the strong, soothing hand of the austere maid drew her head down onto the cushion, and the wild anger died away to passionate sobbing.

She continued. “I will tell you about last night. You are aware, perhaps, that in this house all servants sleep in the modern wing. This central block is made up of the dwelling-rooms, with the kitchen behind and our bedroom above. My maid, Theresa, sleeps above my room. There is no one else, and no sound could alarm those who are in the farther wing. This must have been well known to the robbers, or they would not have acted as they did.”

“We did indeed notice the more modern-looking wing,” remarked Herlock.

Lady Brackenstall nodded politely. “Sir Eustace retired about half-past ten. The servants had already gone to their quarters. Only my maid was up, and she had remained in her room at the top of the house until I needed her services. I sat until after eleven in this room, absorbed in a book. Then I walked around to see that all was right before I went upstairs. It was my custom to do this myself, for, as I have explained, Sir Eustace was not always to be trusted. When I finally reached the dining-room, I approached the window, which was covered with thick curtains. I suddenly felt the wind blow upon my face and realised that it was open. I flung the curtain aside and found myself face to face with a broad-shouldered, elderly man who had just stepped into the room.”

“It’s worth noting that her description matches one of the Randalls,” Genshin informed them, “It’s likely that the man she describes is the leader of the gang.”

“Thank you for clarifying, Mr Asogi.” Lady Brackenstall collected herself before continuing her tale. “The window in question is a long French one, which forms a door leading to the lawn. I held my bedroom candle in my hand, and, by its light, behind the first man I saw two others, who were in the act of entering. I stepped back, but the fellow was on me in an instant. He caught me first by the wrist and then by the throat. I opened my mouth to scream, but he struck me a savage blow with his fist over the eye, and felled me to the ground. I must have dropped my candle then. I must have been unconscious for a few minutes, for when I came to myself I found that they had torn down the bell-rope and had secured me tightly to the chair which stands at the head of the dining-room table.”

“They chose to secure you to a chair?” Herlock muttered, partially to himself. “How interesting. Do continue.”

“I was so firmly bound that I could not move, and a handkerchief around my mouth prevented me from uttering any sound.” Lady Brackenstall’s lip quivered. “It was at this instant that my unfortunate husband entered the room. He had evidently heard some suspicious sounds, and he came prepared for such a scene as he found. He was dressed in his shirt and trousers, with his favourite blackthorn cudgel in his hand. He rushed at one of the burglars, but another - it was the elderly man - stooped, picked the poker out of the grate, and struck him a horrible blow as he passed. He fell without a groan, and never moved again. I fainted once more, but again it could only have been a few minutes during which I was insensible.”

Yujin was busy taking notes of her words as he glanced up at her. “After witnessing a horrible scene, I can understand why. I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said.

“There is more, doctor,” she replied, “I opened my eyes and found that they had collected the silver from the sideboard, and they had drawn a bottle of wine which stood there. Each of them had a glass in his hand. One was elderly, with a beard, and the others young, hairless lads. They might have been a father with his two sons. They talked together in whispers. Then they came over and made sure that I was still securely bound. Finally they withdrew, closing the window after them. It was a quarter of an hour before I got my mouth free. When I did so my screams brought the maid to my assistance. The other servants were soon alarmed, and we sent for the local police, who instantly communicated with London. That is really all I can tell you, gentlemen, and I trust that it will not be necessary for me to go over such a painful story again.”

“Any questions, Mr Sholmes?” asked Genshin.

“I will not impose further tax upon Lady Brackenstall’s patience and time,” said Herlock. “Before I go into the dining-room, I would like to hear your experience, miss…?” He looked at the maid.

“Wright. Theresa Wright. I saw the men before ever they came into the house,” she said. “As I sat by my bedroom window I saw three men in the moonlight down by the lodge gate yonder, but I thought nothing of it at the time. It was more than an hour after that I heard my mistress scream, and down I ran, to find her, poor lamb, just as she says, and him on the floor with his blood and brains all over the room. It was enough to drive a woman out of her wits, tied there, and her very dress spotted with him. My Mary Fraser of Adelaide, now Lady Brackenstall of Abbey Grange, was always so courageous in the face of danger. However, you’ve questioned her long enough, gentlemen, and now she is coming to her own room, just with her old Theresa, to get the rest she badly needs.”

With a motherly tenderness the maid put her arm around her mistress and led her from the room.

“She has been with her all her life,” said Genshin. “Nursed her as a baby, and came with her to England when they first left Australia eighteen months ago. Or so I hear, anyway. The dining-room is this way, if you two would like to follow me.”

Yujin noticed that the keen interest had vanished from Herlock’s expressive face, as if all of the charm of the case had departed. There was still an arrest to be made, but from Lady Brackenstall’s testimony, it seemed that they were commonplace rogues. Annoyance shone from his eyes, as if an abstruse and learned specialist had been called in for a case of measles. Yet the scene in the dining-room of the Abbey Grange was sufficiently strange to seize his attention and to recall his waning interest.

It was a very large and high chamber, with a carved oak ceiling, oak panelling, and a fine array of deer’s heads and ancient weapons around the walls. At the farther end from the door was the high French window that Lady Brackenstall had described earlier. Three smaller windows on the right-hand side filled the room with cold winter sunshine. On the left was a large, deep fireplace with an overhanging oak mantlepiece. Beside the fireplace was a heavy oak chair with arms and crossbars at the bottom. A crimson cord was secured at each side to the crosspiece below; the knots with which it had been secured still remained even after freeing Lady Brackenstall. However, Yujin noticed these details afterwards, as his mind was entirely absorbed by the body in front of the fire.

It was the body of a tall man, about forty years of age. He had fallen upon his back, his face upturned, his white teeth grinning through his short black beard. His two clenched hands were raised above his head, still holding his blackthorn cudgel. His face was frozen in hatred, giving him a rather fiendish expression. He had evidently been in his bed when the alarm had broken out, as he wore an embroidered night-shirt, and his feet were shoeless. Beside him was the heavy poker, bent into a curve by the impact.

“What do you make of it, Mikotoba?” Herlock gestured towards the man’s head wound.

Yujin placed his notebook on the table and bent down to examine the wound. “It’s certainly a horrific blow. A single blow, I am sure. The wound has impacted his parietal bones and smashed right through the cranium.” He caught a glimpse of the cudgel. “Sholmes, do you see that? The cudgel… there’s traces of it being used frequently as a weapon in the past. There’s various marks in the material…”

Herlock glanced at Yujin, as if he wished to say something on the matter, but focused his attention on the poker instead. “He must be a powerful man, this elder Randall,” he remarked.

“According to police reports, he is a rough customer,” Genshin replied. “We have been on the lookout for him, and there was some idea that he had got away to America. Now that we know that the gang are here, I don’t see how they can escape. We have the news at every seaport already, and a reward will be offered before evening. I do fail to see, though, why they chose to leave the lady alive when she could describe them to us.”

“Exactly my thinking,” Herlock agreed. “One would have expected that they would have silenced Lady Brackenstall as well.”

“They may not have realised,” Yujin suggested, “that she had recovered from her faint.”

“That could be likely. If she seemed to be senseless, then they would not take her life.” Herlock gestured to Sir Eustace’s body. “What about this fellow, Mr Asogi? I recall hearing some strange stories about him myself.”

“From what Lord van Zieks has told me, he was a good-hearted man when sober, but a perfect fiend when he was drunk, or even half-drunk,” Genshin recalled. “The police have almost gotten involved twice due to his actions.” He gestured outside to a large tree. “Do you see that tree over there? There was a scandal about him drenching a dog with petroleum and setting it on fire - her ladyship’s dog, to make the matter worse - which he then tried to hush up. Lady Brackenstall buried the dog underneath that tree and placed a gravestone there, but Sir Eustace tore it apart and threw it into the pond.”

“What a horrid man,” Yujin muttered distastefully.

“The second incident was when he threw a decanter at the maid, Theresa Wright. Between ourselves, it will be a brighter house without him.” Genshin looked over and saw Herlock climbing the mantelpiece. “Mr Sholmes, what are you looking at now?”

“The bell rope, my dear fellow. I examined the knots whilst you were chatting. I needed a better angle to examine this broken and frayed end above the mantelpiece,” Herlock remarked with a childish grin on his face. “When this was pulled down the bell in the kitchen must have rung loudly.”

“No one could hear it. The kitchen stands right at the back of the house.”

“How did the burglar know no one would hear it? Why did he pull at the bell rope in that reckless fashion?”

“Exactly, Mr Sholmes. You put the very question which I have asked myself again and again. Clearly, this fellow must have known the house and its habits,” deduced Genshin. “He must have known that the servants would all be in bed at that comparatively early hour, and that no one could possibly hear a bell ring in the kitchen. Therefore he must have been in close league with one of the servants. Surely that is evident. But there are eight servants, and all of them are of good character.”

“One would suspect the one at whose head the victim threw a decanter,” said Herlock. “And yet that would involve treachery towards the mistress to whom this woman seems devoted. Well, well, the point is a minor one, and when you have the Randalls you will probably have no difficulty in securing his accomplice. The lady’s story certainly seems to be corroborated, if it needed corroboration, by every detail which we see before us.” He walked over to the French window and inspected the floor. “There are signs of wax on the floor here, most likely when the lady dropped her candle. The ground outside is too hard to leave any signs. What did the burglars take, exactly?”

“They did not take much - only half a dozen articles of silverware off the sideboard. Lady Brackenstall thinks that they were disturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that they did not ransack the house as they otherwise would have done.”

“No doubt that is true. And yet they drank some wine, I understand.”

“To steady their own nerves.”

“Exactly. These three glasses upon the sideboard have been untouched, I take it?”

“Yes; the bottle stands as they left it.”

The three glasses were grouped together, all of them stained with wine, and one of them containing some dregs of beeswing. The bottle stood near them, two-thirds full, and beside it lay a long, deeply-stained cork.

A change had come over Herlock’s manner. He had lost his listless expression. He raised the cork and examined it minutely. “This bottle was opened by a pocket-screw, probably contained in a knife, and not more than an inch and a half long. If you examine the top of the cork you will observe that the screw was driven three times before the cork was extracted. A longer screw would have drawn it in a single pull. When you catch this fellow you will find that he has a multiplex knife in his possession.”

“Surely there must be a longer screw in this room,” Yujin remarked.

“There’s one in that drawer over there.” Genshin gestured towards it. “Although, according to Mr Sholmes, it wasn’t used.”

“I confess, these glasses do puzzle me.” Herlock picked up the glass with the dregs still in it. “Yet, Lady Brackenstall says she saw the three men drinking. That must be the end of it; what more is to be said? But they’re still rather remarkable. Perhaps when a man has special knowledge and special powers like my own it rather encourages him to seek a complex explanation when a simpler one is at hand. Well, Mr Asogi, you appear to have solved this case. You must let me know when the Randalls are arrested, and of any further developments which may occur. Mikotoba and I shall head back to London.”

“Already?” Yujin asked, a little disappointed.

“Mr Sholmes is right, Mikotoba,” Genshin said with a smile. “I can only apologise for dragging the two of you away from London for such a simple matter. I shall report what we have discovered in the meantime.”

—

After bidding Genshin farewell, Herlock and Yujin left the Abbey Grange and began to walk down the lane. It was at Yujin’s polite insistence that Genshin take the only available cab, leaving the two of them to leave on foot for the time being. As they walked past the partially frozen pond, Yujin grabbed Herlock’s arm, noticing that the two of them were finally alone.

“Sholmes, I have to talk to you about what we saw there,” he whispered.

“Are we stopping? I might freeze to death if you insist on doing so,” Herlock grumbled.

“Just for a moment, if you don’t mind. Did you notice the marks on Lady Brackenstall’s arms?”

Herlock clearly did mind, but he didn’t argue against it. “The bruising and the signs of being stabbed with a thin object. A hat-pin, perhaps. I did notice it, yes.”

“The cudgel, as well. It has clearly been used many times as a weapon, despite the peaceful atmosphere of this area,” Yujin continued. “I didn’t want to say anything whilst we were still in the house, but… I’ve seen this sort of thing before. I have already told you about the times I had to attend to victims of this sort of violence before, back in Japan.”

“I recall that it was somewhat of a sensitive subject for you. A common excuse was that a lady had simply walked into a door, correct?” He noticed Yujin’s surprise and laughed. “Come now, Mikotoba. Do you believe that I would forget your words so easily? I may not remember what I had for breakfast, but I can remember that.”

“You didn’t have anything for breakfast. Forgive me, let me get to my point.” Yujin stepped closer to him. “This lady has been living in fear for months. Her wounds go beyond the physical realm. When I was in Japan, I once attended a scene where a lady’s husband had been killed. He had been stabbed through the heart. The lady told the police that she had killed him after months of abuse. She claimed self-defence. Do you know the sentence they gave her? Life in prison. She didn’t last a year until they found her… in her cell…”

“What are you saying? Are you accusing Lady Brackenstall of murder?”

“No! I’m just… suggesting that perhaps she isn’t telling the full truth. Perhaps she fears the reaction from the police. After all, she has no reason to trust them, but we could get her to trust us,” he suggested. “I saw your face when you examined the wine glasses. You spotted something, didn’t you? Are you truly happy with walking away?”

Herlock suddenly sprang to life, as if he had been waiting for an excuse to let his thoughts be heard. “I have been trying to convince myself otherwise, but Mikotoba, you’re right; I simply can’t leave this case in this condition. Every instinct that I possess cries out against it. It’s wrong - it’s all wrong - I’ll swear that it’s wrong. And yet the lady’s story was complete, the maid’s corroboration was sufficient, the detail was fairly exact. What have I to put against that? Three wine glasses, that is all. Mikotoba, I implore you to dismiss the idea that anything which the maid or her mistress have said must be true.”

“From the sounds of it, it seems that you have a few suspicions regarding their story.” Yujin looked away and sighed. “If you suspected that something was off, why did you not tell me, Sholmes? You know very well that you can tell me whatever is on your mind.”

“Mr Asogi insisted that he had solved it, you see. I didn’t want to bore him with a tedious investigation when he already had so much to do,” he admitted. “He has already gotten into plenty of trouble because of us, and I recall that after the last time, you made me swear not to do so again out of concern for his safety.”

“Ah. Did I say that?”

“You did, yes. For my suspicions, they begin with the burglars. They made a considerable haul at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account of them and of their appearance was in the papers, and would naturally occur to anyone who wished to invent a story in which imaginary robbers should play a part. Burglars who have done a good stroke of business are, as a rule, only too glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quiet without embarking on another perilous undertaking. Again, it is unusual for burglars to operate at so early an hour, and it is unusual for burglars to strike a lady to prevent her screaming, since one would imagine that it would be the sure way to make her scream.”

“It is also unusual that they decided to commit murder when they outnumbered Sir Eustace,” Yujin noted.

“Indeed. It is unusual for them to be content with a limited plunder when they could take so much more within their reach. Finally, I should say that it was very unusual for such men to leave a bottle half empty. How do all these unusuals strike you, Mikotoba?”

“When you take all of them into account, it is certainly suspicious. The most unusual thing to me, though, is that Lady Brackenstall was found tied to the chair. We saw the bell rope still attached to the chair, even.”

“It is evident that they must either kill her or else secure her in such a way that she could not give any immediate notice of their escape.” The cold was starting to get to Herlock; he took out his pipe and lit it. “But at any rate, I have shown that there is a certain element of improbability about the lady’s story. And now on top of this comes the incident of the wine glasses. Picture them in your mind’s eye. We were tools that three men drank from them. Does that strike you as likely?”

“There was wine in each glass, I recall.”

“But there were beeswings in one glass. The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable that the first two glasses were clear and the third heavily charged with it. There are two possible explanations, and only two.” He took a breath from his pipe. “One is that after the second glass was filled, the bottle was violently agitated, and so the third glass received the beeswing. That does not appear probable.”

“What, then, do you suppose?”

“That only two glasses were used, and that the dregs of both were poured into the third glass, so as to give the false impression that three people had been there. In that way all the beeswing would be in the last glass, is it not? I am convinced that this is so. But if I have hit upon the true explanation of this one small phenomenon, then in an instant the case rises from the commonplace to the exceedingly remarkable, for it can only mean that Lady Brackenstall and her maid have deliberately lied to us.”

Yujin placed a hand on his chin in thought. “It also means that we can’t believe a word of their story, and that they must have a very strong reason for covering the real criminal. We’ll have to construct our case without any help from them.”

“My dear Mikotoba, you have matched my thoughts exactly. Now, would you like to accompany me back inside?”

—

The household of the Abbey Grange was surprised to see their return. Herlock, finding that Genshin had yet to return, took possession of the dining-room and locked the door from the inside, devoting himself to his minute and laborious investigation which formed the solid basis of his deductions. Yujin followed him around the room and made notes of his every step: the window, the curtains, the carpet, the chair, and the rope were all minutely examined and duly pondered. The body had been removed, but everything was exactly as they had seen it previously. Then, to Yujin’s astonishment, Herlock climbed up on the mantelpiece.

“Sholmes! Please, be careful!” Yujin hissed, standing underneath him in case he lost his balance.

“You really do worry far too much, Mikotoba,” muttered Herlock. Far above his head hung the few inches of red rope which were still attached to the wire. For a long time he gazed upwards at it, and then in an attempt to get nearer to it he rested his knee upon a wooden bracket on the wall. He managed to get his hand within a few inches of the broken end of the rope, but failed to reach it. Despite this, he sprang down with a grin on his face.

“I’m all right, Mikotoba,” he said. “We have got our case - one of the most remarkable in our collection. But how slow-witted I have been, and how nearly I have committed the blunder of my lifetime! Now, I believe there are only a few missing links to my chain. It is almost complete.”

“Next time, try to warn me before climbing up a mantlepiece like that. So, what have you managed to deduce?”

“This was the work of one man. Strong as a lion - as seen with the blow that bent that poker. Six foot three in height, active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers, and remarkably quick-witted. This whole story is likely his concoction. The bell rope has given us a clue which should not have left us a doubt. If you were to pull down a bell rope, Mikotoba, where would you expect it to break? Surely at the spot where it is attached to the wire, no? Why, in this case, has it broken three inches from the top?”

“If it was frayed, I imagine. We found evidence that the rope used on the chair was frayed, did we not?”

“Exactly. He was cunning enough to do that with his knife. But the other end is not frayed. You could not observe that from here, but if you were on the mantelpiece, you could see that it is cut clean off without any mark of fraying whatsoever. You can reconstruct what occurred. The man needed the rope. He would not tear it down for fear of giving the alarm by ringing the bell. What did he do? He sprang up on the mantelpiece, could not quite reach it, put his knee on the bracket - you will see the impression in the dust - and so got his knife to slice the cord. I could not reach the place by at least three inches, from which I infer that he is at least three inches taller than I. Next, Mikotoba, I implore you to examine the chair.”

Yujin turned to the chair that Lady Brackenstall was found in. Upon closer examination, he noticed a red stain on the seat; blood. “Sholmes, is this…?” He turned towards his partner.

“Undoubtedly it is blood, yes.”

“This puts the lady’s story into question as well. If she was seated on the chair when the crime took place, then how did this mark get here?” He stood up to his full height. “This chair must’ve been placed here after the murder took place.”

“I’ll also wager that the black dress we saw near Lady Brackenstall has a corresponding mark. My only concern now is questioning the maid, Theresa. Although, I have a feeling that she doesn’t like me very much.”

“I can’t possibly imagine why,” Yujin said sarcastically.

“Yes, surely it has something to do with my astounding reputation, no?” If Herlock realised that Yujin was joking, he didn’t show it. “Might you question her for me, Mikotoba? People love doctors. Especially those that have something to hide. They tend to hate consulting detectives…”

“In other words, you.” Yujin chuckled. “Of course I’ll assist you. Though, I confess, they probably won’t say much to me, either. They know that we’re working together. The best case scenario here is if they tell us the full truth, but I highly doubt they’ll do that.”

—

Herlock’s assumptions were entirely correct; it took some time before their pleasant manner thawed the icy demeanour of Theresa. At first, she refused to respond to their questions at all. It was only with Yujin’s promise that they’d take her at her word that she even began to answer at all. It was as if she was suspicious of everyone around her, apart from her mistress.

“We heard from Mr Asogi that Sir Eustace once threw a decanter at you,” Yujin questioned her once she had agreed to answer them. “Is this true?”

“Yes, sir, it is true that he threw a decanter at me,” she said, not attempting to conceal her hatred for her late employer. “I heard him call my mistress a name, and I told him that he would not dare to speak so if her brother had been there. Then it was that he threw it at me. He was ever ill treating her, and she was too proud to complain. She will not even tell me all that he has done to her. She never told me of those marks on her arm that you saw this morning, but I know very well that some of them came from a stab with a hat pin. The sly fiend - Heaven forgive me that I should speak of him so, now that he is dead, but a fiend he was if one walked the earth.”

Yujin continued to make notes as he questioned her. “When did you first meet him?”

“Well, he was all honey when we first met him, only eighteen months ago, and we both feel as if it was eighteen years ago,” she recalled. “She had only just arrived in London. Yes, it was her first voyage - she had never been away from home before. He won her over with his title and his money and his false London ways. If she made a mistake she has paid for it, if ever a woman did. We arrived in June, and it was July when we met him. They were married in January of last year.”

“It is imperative that we question Lady Brackenstall further, too,” Herlock remarked. “Where might she be?”

“She is exactly where you last saw her. I have no doubt that she will see you, but you must not ask too much of her, for she has gone through all that flesh and blood will stand.”

Theresa followed them to see Lady Brackenstall, who was looking far brighter than she was before. She was still resting in the exact same spot as before.

“I hope,” said Lady Brackenstall, “that you have not come to cross-examine me again?”

“No,” Yujin answered, in his gentlest voice, “We do not wish to cause you any unnecessary trouble, Lady Brackenstall. I am convinced that you are a much-tried woman. All we ask is that you trust us.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“To tell us the truth,” Herlock interrupted before Yujin could speak. “You may have heard of any little reputation which I possess. I will stake it all on the fact that your story is an absolute fabrication.”

Both Lady Brackenstall and Theresa stared at Herlock with pale faces and frightened eyes.

“How rude!” Theresa cried. “Do you mean to say that my mistress has told a lie?”

Herlock rose from his chair, and Yujin followed. Herlock shook his head dismissively. “Have you nothing to tell me?”

“I have told you everything,” Lady Brackenstall insisted.

“Think once more, Lady Brackenstall,” Yujin pleaded. “Would it not be better to be frank?”

For an instant there was hesitation on her face. Then some new strong thought caused it to set like a mask. “I have told you all I know,” she said.

Herlock sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “I am sorry,” he said, and without another word they left the room and the house.

Yujin trailed behind him. “Sholmes, perhaps I should try-”

“There is no use. She is quite set, you see.” Herlock came to a stop by the frozen pond. He gazed at the one cracked area of ice and scribbled a note down.

“What are you writing, Sholmes?”

“A message for our friend, Mr Asogi. I shall have to leave it with the lodge-keeper.” He turned to Yujin with a grin. “There is some information that I must acquire. The shipping office of the Adelaide-Southampton line - it is the most popular route that Lady Brackenstall likely took over eighteen months ago. I have a few telegrams in regards to this matter to send before we make our way back to Baker Street. By the time we arrive, the information should be at our doorstep.”

—

Whilst Yujin wasn’t entirely sure what information Herlock had requested, by the time they had returned home to Baker Street, a stack of papers was sitting by their door. Herlock eagerly picked them up and began to comb through them. Yujin, unaware of how long his information gathering would take, settled down for some tea.

“Are you sure you won’t have some tea, Sholmes? We’ve been travelling all day. You’ve hardly had anything to eat.” Whilst this wasn’t unusual, Yujin couldn’t help but to worry about his partner.

“I’ll eat later. I have to focus on this for now,” Herlock replied as he flicked through the papers. He stopped briefly to glance at Yujin. “Are you doing well, Mikotoba? I sense that this case has struck a chord with you.”

“This is about what I said earlier, isn’t it?” Yujin took a sip of his tea before continuing. “I confess, I have been wondering what would have happened if someone intervened sooner. It is obvious now that Lady Brackenstall has suffered. If someone stepped in to help, would Sir Eustace still be dead?”

There was a moment of silence before Herlock replied. “If you keep thinking this way, you’ll find that it will keep you up at night. There is no use thinking about the past in such a way. You must focus on the future instead. You cannot change your actions in the past, but you can use it to influence your actions in the future. Admittedly, I have been thinking about this a lot myself lately, and… Wait! Mikotoba, I have it!” He pulled a piece of paper from the pile and showed it to Yujin excitedly. “I have our answer!”

Yujin was surprised at the sudden turn of conversation, but decided to go with it for now. “What have you found, Sholmes?”

“Following the timeline that the maid has given us, there is only one ship that reached England in June. It was the Rock of Gibraltar , their largest and best boat. A reference to the passenger list shows that Miss Fraser of Adelaide, with her maid, were on the ship. The boat is now on her way to Australia, somewhere to the south of the Suez Canal. Her officers are the same as before, with one exception. The first officer, Mr Jack Croker, has been made a captain and is to take charge of a new ship, the Bass Rock, sailing in two days’ time from Southampton.”

“In other words, there’s only one crew member of that ship that would’ve been in England at the time of the murder,” Yujin remarked. “However, how can you be so sure that we’re chasing a sailor?”

“Lady Brackenstall hasn’t been here for long. She was soon married, so she wouldn’t have had enough time to make many friends. She is likely close to the crew, as they would’ve spent some time with them during her journey. Additionally, a sailor would have the dexterous nature required to reach the bell rope. The knots used with the rope are also common knots used by sailors.” Herlock grinned and gestured to the paper in his hand. “Those are some of the factors that point me towards a sailor. This Jack Croker is said to be reliable and hot-headed, but also loyal, honest and kind-hearted. My only question now is if I should inform Mr Asogi of this or not.”

“You’re hesitating? But why?”

“We have yet to hear the truth from anyone’s lips. Once a warrant is out for him, not even I could save him. Once or twice in my career I feel that I have done more real harm by my discovery of the criminal than ever they had done by their crime. I have learned caution now, and I would rather play tricks with the law of England than with my own conscience. I wish to know more before we act.”

“You know that I will always support you,” Yujin said with a smile. “We should invite Mr Croker for an interview.”

“We will have to visit the telegraph office. I have two I wish to send - one to Mr Croker, of course.” Herlock hesitated before he spoke again. “I have a somewhat selfish request, too. I would like to visit a graveyard.”

Yujin was taken aback by his request. “A graveyard? Is it related to the current case?”

“It is not; hence why it is selfish. Would you come with me? I would prefer to have you there, Mikotoba.” His eyes seemed vulnerable just for a fraction of a second.

“I’m with you, no matter what,” Yujin replied as he picked up his hat. “Now, shall we get going? The longer we leave this, the longer you’ll go without eating…”

—-

It was getting dark already by the time they reached the graveyard. It was filled with mausoleums; it was clear that this was no ordinary graveyard. Yujin followed his partner closely out of fear of getting lost. No one else was around, with the only sound Yujin heard being their footsteps and the howling wind. Herlock entered an unnamed mausoleum, and Yujin went to follow, only to hear footsteps behind them.

“Sholmes, wait! There’s someone else here!” Yujin called out to his partner.

“I should hope so; I invited him,” Herlock responded dismissively. “Are you coming with me, Mikotoba? Tell our guest to come with us, too. We can kill two birds with one stone.”

Yujin turned to see a somewhat annoyed Genshin behind him. Yujin felt his shoulders slump; why had he called Genshin here, of all places?

“What sort of meeting place is this, Yujin?” Genshin grumbled in frustration - notably, he was speaking Japanese. “I haven’t slept in almost sixteen hours. I still have to report to Scotland Yard after this. Yet, Mr Sholmes insisted that I follow you all of the way out here for an update. I only found where you were because of your footprints.”

“I… can only apologise for my partner’s behaviour, Genshin,” Yujin replied in the same language. “I’m surprised you managed to follow us at all-”

“Are you two talking about me in Japanese?” Herlock called from the mausoleum. “Mr Asogi, I’ll have you know that I recognised the words ‘Scotland Yard’ - now, are you two coming? Mikotoba, I need your matches!”

“At once, Sholmes!” Yujin exclaimed, switching back to English. He forced a smile at Genshin. “If it helps, I have no idea what this is about, either.”

Genshin rolled his eyes and headed into the mausoleum. Yujin followed, striking a match and lighting the nearby lanterns. Inside the mausoleum was a single tomb; it was too dark to see what was engraved on it. Yujin continued to light the area up as he tried to ignore the harsh glares Genshin was giving his partner.

“Ah, you must not glare at me so harshly, Mr Asogi! I didn’t even mention your katana!” Herlock burst out into a fit of laughter. “I suspect that you have something to tell us, which is why you followed us all the way here. Am I correct?”

“Yes, you are correct,” Genshin said apprehensively. “My only question is this - how did you know that the stolen silver was at the bottom of that pond?”

Yujin’s eyes widened. “The silver was in the pond?!”

“I didn’t know it - it was merely a suggestion.” Herlock grinned and bowed towards Genshin in a prideful manner. “I am very glad to have helped you, Mr Asogi.”

“Truthfully, you’ve only made the matter far more complicated,” Genshin confessed. “What sort of burglars are they who steal silver and then throw it into the nearest pond?”

“It was certainly rather eccentric behaviour. The cracks in the ice did allude to something being thrown in there. I went with the idea that if the silver had been taken by persons who did not want it, who merely took it for a blind as it were, then they would naturally be anxious to get rid of it. Right in front of their noses was a frozen pond. Tempting, isn’t it? Such an inventive hiding place.”

“It was early - they may have been concerned with being seen with the silver,” suggested Genshin. “They sank it into the pond, intending to return to it when the coast was clear. Well, it doesn’t matter much now. I’m being taken off the case.”

“Whatever for?” Yujin asked him.

“The Randall gang were arrested in New York this morning,” Genshin explained. “Scotland Yard is eager to give this case to someone else, due to my status as a student. It may be a new gang that the police have yet to hear of. It’s also unlikely that this new detective will be eager to include you, Mr Sholmes.”

Herlock merely shrugged his shoulders. “Hm. How unfortunate. Well, thank you for the update, Mr Asogi. You can pass along my comments, but I doubt they will listen to me. Next time, I promise our meeting will take place at Baker Street.”

Genshin opened his mouth to reply, but his eyes caught sight of the lone tomb in the room. His gaze suddenly softened. “Ah… I see. I understand now, Mr Sholmes… You… You haven’t had any more trouble between the two of you since then, have you…?”

It seemed that no one was going to clue Yujin in on anything. “Genshin? Whatever is the matter? It’s unlike you to bring… that… up all of a sudden,” remarked Yujin.

“Mr Asogi is merely expressing his concern for us, Mikotoba,” Herlock deflected. “To answer your question, Mr Asogi, there was a time when it was close… but otherwise, my partner and I have been perfectly fine. I merely wish to remember, that’s all.”

“In that case, I will leave you two alone.” Genshin smiled towards Yujin before starting to walk away. “Ever since they found another victim to that murderous hound, I have been somewhat on edge. My apologies. As always, Yujin, you can talk to me whenever you’d like. I’ll see you both soon.”

Yujin watched in confusion as Genshin left the mausoleum. He turned to face his partner. “What’s going on? Why are we here, Sholmes?”

“Like I said, I merely wish to remember.” Herlock lit his pipe and took a breath from it. “Although, we really shouldn’t stay here for much longer. Did you think that I acted rather badly with Mr Asogi just now?”

“I trust your judgement; you said beforehand that you were hesitant to say anything until you gathered all of the facts.”

“Exactly. Look at it this way: he must disclose all that he knows, otherwise he is a traitor to his service. I would rather not put him in the painful position of having to choose to hold back such important information at my request, so I elected to tell him nothing.”

“I… wouldn’t say Genshin is like that,” said Yujin. “I believe that he will do what is best. He believes firmly in justice, you see. He would probably argue with you on what he sees as due punishment, though.”

“Is that so? Then I suppose time will tell. Come along, Mikotoba. We must return to Baker Street before our guest arrives.” Herlock nodded towards the tomb and left the mausoleum.

Before he followed him, Yujin decided to take a glance at the tomb, now that the place was firmly lit up. His heart dropped when he saw the inscription:

‘PROFESSOR JAMES MORIARTY

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality’

—-

It wasn’t long before they arrived at Baker Street that their visitor greeted them. There was a sound upon the stairs, and the door opened to reveal their guest. He was a very tall, young man with a golden moustache and blue eyes. His skin was sunburnt, and there was a spring in his step. He closed the door behind him with clenched hands, as if choking down an overpowering emotion.

Herlock took a breath from his pipe. “Sit down, Captain Croker. You got my telegram?”

He sank into a chair and looked at the two of them with questioning eyes. “I got your telegram, and I came at the hour you said. Let’s hear the worst. What are you going to do with me? Arrest me? Speak out, man! You can’t sit there and play with me like a cat with a mouse.”

“Mikotoba, offer him a cigar.” Herlock waited until his partner had done so before continuing. “Bite on that Captain Croker, and don’t let your nerves run away with you. I would not be sitting here smoking with you if I thought that you were a common criminal, you may be sure of that. Be frank with me, and we may do some good. Play tricks with me, and I’ll crush you.”

“What do you wish me to do?”

“To give me a true account of all that happened at the Abbey Grange last night - a true account, mind you, with nothing added and nothing taken off. I know so much already that if you go one inch off the straight I’ll blow this police whistle from my window and the affair goes out of my hands forever.”

Captain Croker thought for a moment. Then he struck his leg with his sun-burnt hand. “I’ll chance it,” he cried. “I believe that you are a man of your word, and I’ll tell you the whole story. But one thing I will say first. So far as I am concerned I regret nothing and I fear nothing, and I would do it all again and be proud of the job. When I think of getting the lady, Mary Fraser - for I will never call her by that accursed name - into trouble, I would give my life if it meant she could be happy. Her smile turns my soul into water. What else could I do?”

Yujin took a seat and began to take notes. “You first met the lady whilst on the Rock of Gibraltar, correct?” He asked him.

“That is correct, yes,” he replied. “Ever since I first met her, I knew that she was the woman for me. We danced many times under the moonlight, and every day of that voyage I loved her more and more. She was never engaged to me. She treated me fairly, and I have no complaint to make. It was all love on my side, and all good companionship and friendship on hers. We parted, but she was still on my mind. Next time I came back from the sea I heard of her marriage. I was happy for her - she had a title and money, which is more than I could’ve given her. I didn’t grieve over her marriage. I was not such a selfish hound as that. I just rejoiced that good luck had come her way, and that she had not thrown herself away on a penniless sailor. That’s how much I loved Mary Fraser.”

“Of course, you had no idea about how Sir Eustace could act around her,” remarked Herlock.

“It was Theresa that told me. I was promoted, but the new boat was not yet launched, so I had to wait for a couple of months with my people in Sydenham. That’s when I ran into Theresa, and she told me everything. How could I let this drunken hound raise a hand at her? I met Theresa again, then I met Mary herself - and met her again. Then she would meet me no more. But the other day I had a notice that I was to start on my voyage within a week, and I was determined that I should see her once more before I left. Theresa was always my friend, for she loved Mary and hated this villain almost as much as I did. From her I learned the ways of the house.”

“So Theresa aided you!” Yujin realised, pausing to turn over a new page.

He nodded. “She told me that Mary used to sit up reading in her own little room downstairs. I crept around there last night and scratched at the window. At first she would not open to me, but then she whispered for me to come around to the big front window, and I found it open before me so as to let me into the dining-room. I heard from her own lips things that made my blood boil, and again I cursed this brute who mistreated the woman that I loved. It was at this moment that the brute rushed into the room like a madman and called her the vilest name that a man could call a woman, and hit her across the face with the stick he had in his hand. There was a scuffle between us - you can see on my arm here where his first blow fell.”

Yujin glanced at the arm and noticed some bruising. “It seems fairly recent. The bruising could certainly match the cudgel he was holding,” he noted.

“I picked up the poker and went through him like a rotten pumpkin. Do you think I was sorry? Of course I wasn’t! It was his life or mine, but far more than that it was his life or hers, for how could I leave her in the power of this madman? Was I wrong? Well, when I struck him, the lady screamed, which alerted Theresa. There was a bottle of wine on the sideboard, and I opened it and offered some to the two of them. Theresa refused, which may have become our undoing. I took a drop myself whilst Theresa and I plotted to make it appear as if burglars had done the deed. Theresa kept on repeating our story to her mistress, whilst I climbed up and cut the bell rope. I frayed the end to make it look natural and tied the lady to the chair. Then I gathered some silverware, to carry out the idea of a robbery, and told them to raise the alarm after fifteen minutes. I dropped the silver into the pond - I threw a brick into it to break the ice - and made off for Sydenham, feeling that for once in my life I had done a real good night’s work. And that’s the truth and the whole truth, Mr Sholmes, if it costs me my neck.”

Herlock smoked for some time in silence. Then he crossed the room and shook Captain Croker by the hand. “That’s what I think,” he said. “I know that every word is true, for you have hardly said a word which I did not know. No one but an acrobat or a sailor could have gotten up to that bell rope, and no one but a sailor could’ve made those knots on the cord. Only once has this lady been in contact with sailors, and that was on her voyage, and it was someone of her own class of life, since she was trying hard to shield him and so showing that she loved him. You see how easy it was for me to lay my hands upon you when once I had started upon the right trail.”

“I thought the police would never see through our story.”

“And the police haven’t; nor will they, to the best of my belief. This is a very serious matter, though I am willing to admit that you acted under the most extreme provocation to which any man could be subjected. I am not sure that in defence of your own life your action will not be pronounced legitimate. However, that is for a British jury to decide. Meanwhile I have so much sympathy for you that if you choose to disappear in the next twenty-four hours I will promise you that no one will hinder you.” Herlock noticed Yujin open his mouth, as if he was about to retaliate, and shot him a look. “The truth will surely come out afterwards.”

Captain Croker flushed with anger. “What sort of proposal is that? I know enough of law to understand that Mary would be had as an accomplice. Do you think I would leave her alone to face the music whilst I run away? No, sir; let them do their worst upon me, but for Heaven’s sake, Mr Sholmes, find some way of keeping my poor Mary out of the courts.”

For the second time, Herlock held his hand out to the sailor. “I was merely testing you; you ring true every time. See here, Captain Croker, we’ll do this in due form of law. You are the prisoner. Mikotoba, you are the British jury, as I have never met a man who was more eminently fit to represent one. I am the judge. Now, gentleman of the jury, you have heard the evidence. Do you find this prisoner guilty or not guilty?”

Yujin closed his notebook and grinned. “Not guilty, my lord.”

“ Vox populi, vox Dei. You are acquitted, Captain Croker. So long as the law does not find some other victim you are safe from me. Whilst I would recommend returning in about a year…” Herlock gestured to the window overviewing Baker Street. “I have prepared a cab for you. You will have to excuse the lady in the cab - she insisted that she didn’t mind waiting for us to finish.”

Captain Croker’s face broke into a smile. “The lady? Do you mean...?”

“I think it’s best if you see for yourself, hm? It’s best not to keep a lady waiting.”

With a mumble of thanks, Captain Croker ran out of the room, his footsteps heavy upon the stairs. Yujin rushed over to the window and saw him enter the cab as it drove off. He let out a smile and turned to his partner.

“I never took you for a romantic, Sholmes.” Yujin chuckled. “However, what if Scotland Yard-”

“They are still focused entirely on their gang theory,” Herlock replied dismissively. “I highly doubt that they’ll find the true culprit anytime soon. I confess, it was your little speech by the pond that spurred me to act like this. The law tends to mistreat those that are victims of such household violence. I felt as if I had to do what little was in my power to help.”

“I truly hope that the law changes one day to help those that are in a similar situation,” confessed Yujin. He stepped closer to his partner. “There is also something else that I wished to discuss. The mausoleum we visited - did you want to return there?”

“Ah. You saw the name, didn’t you? Of course you did. Even Mr Asogi witnessed it.” Herlock put his pipe down and sighed. “You must think of me as… foolish, for wanting to visit that man’s grave.”

“I could never think that of you, Sholmes.You know exactly how I feel towards you.” He placed a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “This is more about remembering, isn’t it? There’s something else; I can tell.”

Herlock looked towards a painting above the fireplace; a waterfall. “That man is the reason we were torn apart. It may have been brief, but it felt like years to me. I’m sure you must’ve felt the same. With all of this talk about a killer using a hound to murder nobles… I’m afraid that one day we’ll be torn apart. Permanently. What if they call off your study tour?”

If Yujin was being honest, he felt the same way. His study tour could be called off at any time. He forced a smile towards his partner. “I’m sure that won’t happen. You’re just overthinking it, Sholmes. Even if we are apart, it’s not like we won’t stop talking to each other, isn’t it?”

“I feel as if without you by my side, life will become terribly lonely.” If he noticed Yujin’s forced smile, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he forced a smile himself. “Ah, but there’s no use in getting upset when we’re thinking about the what-ifs! After all, I haven’t eaten at all today!”

It was obvious that they were both deflecting away from the matter, but Yujin wasn’t ready to have this conversation. Clearly, neither was his partner. He decided to go along with the distraction for now. After all, if he believed it, then they had all the time in the world.