“Back to work,” he said. “Whatever direction she has headed she has no doubt left clues.”
“Now it’s just a matter of finding them,” Mycroft sighed.
“Do not fear. We have come very far and I still have strength enough to continue the chase,” said my companion.
We returned to Alice’s study, which had been aired out. How many clues did it hide?
Books, letters in the desk, all could contain valuable information.
On the desk lay the letter which Lady Alice had been writing when we interrupted her. Holmes headed straight for it.
He read the first lines and smiled softly.
“It is a kind of written confession,” he said. “A letter to a certain Jacques in which the Lady discusses plans for their upcoming nuptials.”
“Alice wants to get married?”
“So it seems. According to this letter the wedding is planned for this autumn.”
“But I thought she never wanted to marry!”
“No doubt it is merely a marriage of convenience, Watson,” he said, rummaging through the other papers on the desk until he found the envelope. “Yes, I was right. The addressee is Jacques Picard, a leading French industrialist.”
“May I hazard a guess that he manufactures weapons?” I said.
“Precisely,” replied Holmes. “Lady Alice was acquiring control over the war machinery very meticulously. She planned to marry this arms manufacturer, but I do not expect that the marriage was meant to last long. The poor fellow would have been a mere instrument serving her aims; our praying mantis would have disposed of him just as she did the others. Most ingenious and cruel!”
“We should warn him,” said Mycroft, taking the envelope from Holmes.
“I will leave that to you, brother. Nevertheless, now that we have uncovered her plans, Lady Darringford will have much less room to operate. I do not think that Mr Picard will be hearing from his fiancée in the near future. I suppose that you will issue an immediate warrant for her arrest. And as for Bollinger and Pascuale, sans her they are just like empty cartridges without a detonator.”
“But as long as she is free she will surely continue to plot and intrigue,” said Mycroft. “She knows our strategic plans and secret materials, for which Kaiser Wilhelm would give anything, and can blackmail us. That woman will not give up so easily. She must be rendered toothless!”
As I listened to them the whole truth finally sunk in. Alice had been revealed as a radical feminist who would stop at nothing and who was ready to sacrifice human lives for her twisted ideals. Her behaviour gave the term suffragette a completely different meaning.
After all, the suffragettes were originally middleclass women, for the most part unmarried, frustrated by their social situation and economic condition. In their radical actions they sought a path to change. Their feeling of powerlessness led to a movement that inspired thousands of women to fight for the right to vote.
Soon they took direct action, tying themselves to railway tracks, starting fires in post boxes and trash bins, and breaking windows and display cases. They even set off bombs. Many went on hunger strikes and had to be fed by force. But they certainly would not condone what Alice had done.
Which was another reason why Lady Darringford did not seem to fit into this group. She was born wealthy and had an excellent position in society. Hence her motives remained a mystery.
While I pondered thus my companions were examining the bookshelf.
Just as I had expected Holmes found much of interest in it. In particular he was intrigued by a peculiar family album, resembling a book, which he pulled out of the shelf and began to leaf through.
As we could see by the date indicated in gold letters in the blood red leather of the cover, the album was put together about a year ago. Instead of photographs, Alice had filled it with articles and news clippings, probably from stories in which she had played a large part. There were short notices about various accidents that had befallen people whose names were unfamiliar to me. But the detective recognised the names of important figures in European industry. Other pages were devoted to a fire in Manchester about a year ago that had burned down a factory belonging to Sir Curry. In the aftermath, the unfortunate entrepreneur went bankrupt and hung himself.
Although it was unclear whether the fires had been caused by an arsonist or by circumstances, in each case the most important British armouries were destroyed. This led to the rise of Bollinger’s factory.
“Again we see how naive we were,” said Holmes as he read the clippings. “She planned each move well in advance, to the smallest detail, and with extraordinary callousness. She prepared the affair with Bollinger for more than a year. The burning of the Curry factory was her first step on the road to power.”
The detective turned the pages.
We learned that her crimes were even more far-reaching and monstrous than we had imagined. The Darringfords’ murders and power games were only the tip of the iceberg. In the album, a sort of diary of crime, we uncovered the rotten foundations.
Anyone unfortunate enough to be lured into their web of extortion, bribery or money was eventually eliminated from the game without mercy. They abducted children, murdered, burned houses and factories. In addition to the Curry factory they were responsible for the destruction of at least two other factories in France and one in Italy. This served to increase the influence of the companies that they already controlled. A competitive advantage par excellence.
Yes, the suffragettes sometimes lit fires; but Alice’s pyromania and profiteering were monstrous. It was only a matter of time before the suffragettes turned their backs on her.
The last pages of the album were devoted to Holmes’s funeral.
Here the lady exercised a care approaching fetishism. The clippings were surrounded by childish drawings depicting Holmes’ death and were framed with black flowers and decorative ornaments.
The detective cast aside the album. It had ceased to interest him.
We found a few more smoke bombs behind the books, but otherwise there was nothing. When we reunited with the police officers in the hallway, we learned that similar caches of bombs had been prepared throughout the house. Lady Alice had been ready to escape at a moment’s notice.
Mycroft told us that his patrol would remain in the villa a while longer and would be joined by professional criminal investigators for a more thorough inspection.
“I would wager that this house still has not revealed all of its secrets,” said Holmes.
We made our way to the spacious cellar, which we entered through a door hidden in an alcove behind the stairs. In addition to old bric-a-brac, metal stoves, chests, furniture and similar things, there was nothing unusual or striking, except for the marks in the dust left behind by the retreating lady and her retinue. In the upper half of the sloping rear wall there was an open casement window, through which the lady and her people had disappeared. Streaks of morning light now shone through it.
Mycroft returned upstairs, as he was not inclined to exert himself physically, but Holmes took off his jacket and used an overturned stool to lift himself through the casement to the garden. I followed him, surprised by just how arduous it was. Alice must have been tremendously agile.
We found ourselves on the lawn in front of the garage, near the inconspicuous side gate.
The detective explored the plot thoroughly, but there were not many clues to be found.
“Three pairs of women’s shoes, one man’s,” he said, counting the footprints. “The man’s shoeprints are deeper; he appears to have been carrying something heavy. Everything that the lady considered absolutely necessary and that she managed in her haste to collect.”