“What a pair they are!” exclaimed Sir John. “I believe they are competing for some prize to be awarded to the greatest booby. What twaddle they talked! Did you ever hear such, Jeremy?”
“No, I never did,” I whispered. “But if you continue to talk in that tone and at such volume, I fear they will hear you, sir.”
“Oh, I care not. Better they should know.” His jaw was set, and he thrust his lower lip out quite pugnaciously. “Well, let us get to it. The poor old thing deserves an investigation of some sort into her death. All she is likely to get, she must get from us.” He paused but a moment. “Describe the body to me.”
That I did in detail and with no little degree of care. I gave particular attention to the position of the body there at the bottom of the stairway, the dishevelment of her clothing, and the unnatural angle of the head upon its broken support, Sir John listened carefully and nodded at each new bit of information. When at last I had done, he stood quiet for what seemed a good long while, leaning upon his stick, bowed in concentration. Then, of a sudden, his head bobbed up, and he turned in my direction.
“What about her spectacles?” he asked.
“Uh, I don’t know,” said I. “What about them?”
“Has she them on?”
Her face was turned to the floor. It was necessary for me to feel round the head to be certain as to whether or not she wore them. Cold to the touch she indeed was, rigid and unyielding in every joint. So shocked was I by this that I forgot for a moment why it was I had begun feeling about her face. But only for a moment.
“She is not wearing her spectacles, sir.”
“Well. .,” said he, “then perhaps they fell off in the course of her tumble down the stairs.”
“That seems reasonable, sir.”
“Look into that, will you, lad? Check the stairway for her spectacles, and while you’re about it, give a tug to the carpet at each step along the way. “
He waited patiently as I did what he had told me. It took a bit of time to accomplish the task, there being a full twenty steps from one floor to the next; nevertheless, when I had done, I could make my report with certainty: “There are no spectacles anywhere about, and the carpet on the stairs fits just as tight as Mr. Trezavant’s breeches.”
“Careful with your similes there, Jeremy. You may get us both into trouble. But stay right where you are. I’m coming up.”
Grasping the banister firmly, he did not let it go until he had reached the top of the stairs. He knew his limitation. While armed with his walking stick, he might blaze through the streets of Westminster as fast as any man with two good eyes, but when challenged by rough ground, or a steep incline or decline, he sought and accepted whatever help might be available — if not my shoulder, then a good, solid oaken banister did quite well.
“Try the door to her apartment,” said he. “See if it is unlocked.”
“No need,” said I. “It stands half open.”
“Then, let’s inside. I should like you to continue your search for the spectacles. This is no maggot of mine, lad. I feel sure that you will find them in her apartment and probably not far from the door.” And so I did. As Sir John took a place to one side, I searched that part of the floor without result. I was about to report this to him, when a beam of the morning sun glinted sharply upon an object near the window.
“I believe I see them,” I called out in triumph, leaping to the window. And there it was indeed that her spectacles lay. They rested upon the carpet, one lens cracked and the other quite shattered. I picked them up quite carefully, cupping them in one hand so as not to allow any bits or pieces to be lost.
“I have them, sir,” said I, “but they are all cracked and broke. I’ve a clean wipe in my pocket. I’ll wrap them in it for you. “
“Cracked and broke, is it? Do you realize the significance of this discovery, Jeremy? You yourself said you were sure the Widow Paltrow could in no wise survive without her spectacles.”
“Oh, no, sir. She was most dreadfully shortsighted. She would not have dared to venture beyond her door if she were not wearing them.”
“Unless?”
I considered the question carefully. “Unless she were so frighted that she thought only of escape. And without her spectacles, fleeing in fear, she might easily have tripped, fallen, and begun that awful tumble that sent her to the bottom of the stairs with a broken neck.”
“Certainly, a more reasonable theory than that put forward by the coroner. But what do you make of the broken lenses of the spectacles?”
“Why, that only supports what I have said, for she likely lost her spectacles in a struggle. That the lenses were broken suggests that they were trod upon. That they were found in a far corner near the window says that they were likely kicked there.”
“Very good indeed. You’ve done so well that I must now impose another task upon you. “
“Anything at all, sir. Just tell me what you wish.”
He rubbed his chin in thought for a moment, then said he: “Perhaps I had best leave that to you. I may as well confess to you that I intend to ignore their caution that we take nothing with us. We shall take whatever aids our investigation. So let that be your measure. If you see anything — old letters, pertinent papers of any sort — then by all means take it and tuck it away. We shall make our evaluation later.”
I roamed the apartment through. A sitting room, a small bedroom, and a tiny kitchen were all that required my attention, and there were not a great many places within these three rooms where matter of the kind described by Sir John might be stored — or hidden. I began my search in the bedroom. At the foot of her old canopy bed there was a chest; digging into it hopefully, I found it contained no more than bedclothes. Though there were drawers at the bottom of the wardrobe in the corner, they yielded no more than undergarments and stockings. The kitchen shelves contained only what one might expect to find on kitchen shelves. Then finally into the sitting room, where Sir John awaited me, and where I saw only a bureau of modest size as a likely repository for that which I sought. There were drawers and compartments aplenty in it, and each one seemed to be overburdened with papers of one kind or another. I went through them as quickly as I could, retained a few old letters from her son Lawrence, and disposed of the rest by stuffing them higgledy-piggledy into the places whence they had come.
I looked about and sighed, thinking that I had spent a good deal of time and had little to show for it. Then did my eye come to rest upon a bookcase which was well filled and seemed to invite examination. Well I knew from discoveries made among the books left in my attic room that papers of all kinds (some of them of interest, though most quite valueless) are often tucked between the pages only to fall out quite unexpectedly. I saw that a thorough search would mean a search of the Widow Paltrow’s books, as well. I fell upon them without much sense of purpose but with the feeling that when at last I had done with them, the onus would be lifted. I had grown weary of the search. I gave each book a shake. Every now and again I was rewarded when a bit of paper would come fluttering out of the book in hand and onto the floor. What I had harvested in this way could not be said to amount to a pile but, rather, at best to a slender sheaf. But in this way, quite unexpectedly, I came across Lawrence Paltrow’s diary.
I call it that, though he did not. It was a sort of notebook cum sketchbook bound in rough durable leather; across its cover was lettered in bold style, “Journal of Exploration and Discovery” and the name, Lawrence Paltrow. It was on the bottom shelf that I found it, secluded behind three larger books. It was evident the Widow Paltrow had attempted to hide it — but why? and from whom? I glanced through it and found myself fascinated by the drawings of birds, leaves, and flowers on nearly every page; the text was, for the most part, descriptive of various phenomena of nature, though there were personal notes, as well. Gratified that I had come across what seemed a substantial finding, I tucked it away into one of the capacious pockets of my bottle-green coat. With that, I counted my search complete.