But the detective had still not played his last trump card.
“Then there is nothing left for me to do except search for the lord’s body,” he said, winking at me conspiratorially.
“You can do so by heading out the door,” said Alice frostily. “But do not return without a search warrant. Not that you will obtain one on the basis of these hallucinations, old man.”
She waved a contemptuous hand at Holmes’s grey hair. He raised his eyebrows slightly and levelled her with a condescending, even regretful look.
“May I suggest you look out the window,” he said. “The weather is so fine and your garden so inviting.”
She looked at him searchingly and peered out the window.
“What are they doing?!” she cried. “Keep them away from my flower beds!”
I looked over her shoulder out the window. A cordon of uniformed police officers was marching across the beautiful garden. So Mycroft had been waiting for them! Some of the officers carried spades and were looking around, not knowing where to start digging.
“You have no right to search the garden!” Alice fumed. “What do you think you will find? A dead body? Do you want to dig up the whole place? That would take you years!”
“The whole garden? No,” laughed Holmes, joining us at the window. “Gentlemen! Did you not hear the lady? Get away from those flower beds! And if I see anyone damaging the lawn with their spade they will have to answer to me!”
The sergeant saluted obediently and drove his men away from the flowers.
“Do you see that beech grove and gazebo?” said the detective pointing to the back corner of the garden. “There are newly planted rhododendrons. Dig beneath them and you will find a dead body. Let me know when you do!”
The police officers headed towards the trees. Holmes closed the window and turned towards the room.
The Lady’s expression had transformed. Her adorability was gone, replaced by fear and anger. We had hit the button on the nose. I no longer had any doubt that under the trees we would find what Holmes expected.
“It was not very difficult; one need only be familiar with basic natural science,” he explained pedantically. “During our walk in the garden the other evening the doctor and I discovered those bushes, which do not at all match the character of the otherwise carefully designed garden. They no doubt weren’t a part of the architect’s plans. They serve an entirely different purpose. What’s more, old men like me, who have sufficient free time for study, know that the roots of beech trees release a poisonous substance into the soil.”
The accused woman bit her lower lip.
“Is it dawning on you?” he continued. “Yes, the trees prevent weeds and other competitors taking water from them. But someone tried very hard to make something grow next to these trees. Under other circumstances it would have been a successful attempt at camouflage.”
We could hear shovels and pickaxes under the window. The body would not be buried deep.
Lady Darringford was breathing heavily.
“As soon as I got the warning that someone was snooping around in Venice I knew it was you,” she said, her face clouding. “Of course I realised that the poisoning and theatrical funeral of the great Sherlock Holmes was a ruse. As soon as you showed up here in that ridiculous disguise everything was clear! You never were able to drop dead in time!”
“Such strong words from such delicate lips,” said the detective. “Come come now.”
“My brother and that pastor are idiots for not seeing through you,” she continued. “One is always better off doing something oneself. And you know what? I strangled Bollinger with my own hands! His Adam’s apple just crunched! The doctor knows how dextrous I am with my fingers.”
Her confession, uttered with such coldblooded cruelty, and addressed to my ears, threw me into despair. I remembered how her hands had caressed my neck. What would have happened had my friend not intervened?
“Enough talk,” said Holmes, defending me. “You can tell this to the police and the judge. I hope you show enough remorse to avoid being sent straight to the gallows!”
But she did not falter.
“You pathetic fool! You have no idea who I am and what is waiting for all of you! You will burn in hell!”
Laughing contemptuously she lunged towards the bookshelf before the detective could stop her.
From behind two volumes she pulled something that looked like a stick of dynamite and waved it in front of us. We covered our heads expecting an explosion, but she just cackled as she broke the stick and tossed it in front of us. A cloud of pungent smoke rose up, filling the room and blinding us.
We heard the doors close behind her, the key clicking in the lock, and her surprisingly rapid footsteps as she ran cackling down the hallway. Holmes groped through the smoke and tried in vain to open the door.
“Did she lock us in?” I called to him.
“Yes,” he answered from behind the veil of smoke, which was gradually beginning to dissipate.
But in those few second she had succeeded in getting away.
When the smoke faded I looked across the room and saw Holmes silently staring at the door through which she had disappeared with a sad expression on his face.
“Cosi fan tutte,”[21] he sighed.
XI: Intermezzo
The black cloud of smoke in Lady Darringford’s study had dissipated. But in that short time it had paralysed not only our vision but also our ability to move. As soon as Holmes understood that we were imprisoned inside the room he lunged towards the window, opened it and from his jacket pocket pulled out a whistle. The sound alarmed the policemen, who were pulling up shrubs and turf from the beech grove and digging with their shovels in the dirt. Now they looked up at the window from which smoke was billowing.
“She got away!” he shouted. “Search the house! She must not escape!”
The sergeant bellowed orders. He left two men at the pit while the rest ran towards the house. I feared that they would not be able to surround the villa in time. Then I was overcome by a fit of coughing and had to again prop myself up against the parapet.
Mycroft, alarmed by the smoke and the whistling, also ran into the garden. A glance at the garden and the two of us standing helplessly at the window told him everything he needed to know.
“Are you all right?” he called.
“She has only injured our pride,” said Holmes.
“What happened?”
“She locked us in the study and escaped. I have already issued instructions.”
“Very well. Wait there, I am coming for you!”
As we did not know how to walk on walls this command was rather unnecessary.
In a few minutes we heard Mycroft’s heavy footsteps behind the door.
“Brother, are you still there?”
We assured him that indeed we were and he called two men over to break down the door. After the second strike the wood gave way and we were free.
The hallway was full of policemen running from room to room, shaking their heads.
The news was bad.
“Lady Darringford has disappeared without a trace,” said Mycroft gloomily.
“How is that possible?”
“My men were only watching the main entrance. We did not anticipate that she would resist arrest, especially since the garden was full of police. The Lady escaped through the cellar and servants’ entrance together with the housekeeper and other domestics. The house is completely empty.”
Indeed, the vestibule beneath the staircase contained only two despondent agents in civilian dress.
Holmes fixed them with his penetrating gaze. But there was no point upbraiding them.
21
Italian: “Thus do they all.” Also the name of an opera by Mozart. Holmes is no doubt referring to the fact that the incomparable Irene Adler also ran away from him in