‘My dear Mrs Carstairs!’ I exclaimed, leaping to my feet. ‘Please, do not distress yourself. Sit down. May I get you a glass of water?’
She was unable to speak. I led her to a chair and she produced a handkerchief which she used to dab at her eyes. I poured her some water and carried it over, but she waved it away. ‘Dr Watson,’ she murmured at last. ‘You must forgive me coming here.’
‘Not at all. I am very pleased to see you. When you came in, I was preoccupied but I can assure you that you now have my full attention. Have you further news from Ridgeway Hall?’
‘Yes. Horrible news. But is Mr Holmes away?’
‘You have not heard? Have you not seen a newspaper?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t interest myself in the news. My husband does not encourage it.’
I considered showing her the piece I had just been reading, then decided against it. ‘I’m afraid Mr Sherlock Holmes is indisposed,’ I said. ‘And is likely to be for some time.’
‘Then it’s hopeless. I have no one else to turn to.’ She bowed her head. ‘Edmund does not know I have come here today. In fact, he counselled strongly against it. But I swear to you, I will go mad, Dr Watson. Is there no end to this nightmare that has suddenly come to destroy all our lives?’
She began to cry afresh and I sat, helpless, until at last the tears abated. ‘Perhaps it might help if you tell me what brought you here,’ I suggested.
‘I will tell you. But can you help me?’ She suddenly brightened. ‘Of course! You’re a doctor! We’ve seen doctors already. We’ve had doctors in and out of the house. But maybe you’ll be different. You’ll understand.’
‘Is your husband ill?’
‘Not my husband. My sister-in-law, Eliza. You remember her? When you first met her, she was already complaining of headaches and various pains, but since then her condition has suddenly worsened. Now Edmund thinks she may be dying and there is nothing that anyone can do.’
‘What made you think you might find help here?’
Mrs Carstairs straightened herself in her chair. She wiped her eyes and suddenly I was aware of the strength of spirit that I had noticed when we first met. ‘There is no love between my sister-and-law and I,’ she said. ‘I’ll not pretend otherwise. From the very start, she thought me an adventuress with my talons out to ensnare her brother when he was at his lowest ebb, a fortune hunter who planned only to profit from his wealth. Forget the fact that I came to this country with plenty of money of my own. Forget that I was the one who nursed Edmund back to health on board the Catalonia. She and her mother would have hated me, no matter who I was, and they never gave me a chance. Edmund had always belonged to them, you see — the younger brother, the devoted son — and they could never bear the idea of his finding happiness with anyone else. Eliza even blames me for the death of her mother. Can you believe it? What was a tragic domestic accident — the flame blew out on her gas fire — became in her mind a deliberate suicide, as if the old lady preferred to die than to see me as the new mistress of the house. In a way, they’re both mad. I wouldn’t dare say that to Edmund, but it’s true. Why could they never accept the fact that he loves me and be glad for both our sakes?’
‘And this new illness…?’
‘Eliza thinks she is being poisoned. Worse than that, she insists that I am responsible. Don’t ask me how she has arrived at this conclusion. It’s madness, I tell you!’
‘Does your husband know of this?’
‘Of course he does. She accused me while I was there with them in the room. Poor Edmund! I have never seen him so confused. He didn’t know how to respond — for if he had taken my side against her, who knows what it would have done to her state of mind. He was mortified, but the moment we were alone he rushed to my side and begged my forgiveness. Eliza is sick, there’s no doubting that, and Edmund takes the view that her delusions are part of the sickness and he may well be right. Even so, the situation has become almost intolerable for me. All her food is now prepared separately in the kitchen and carried straight up to her room by Kirby, who makes sure that it never leaves his sight. Edmund actually shares the dish with her. He pretends he is being companionable but of course he is acting as nothing more than one of those ancient Roman foodtasters. Maybe I should be grateful. For a week now he has eaten everything that she has eaten and he is in perfect health, while she becomes sicker and sicker, so if I am adding deadly nightshade to her diet, it’s a perfect mystery why only she is affected.’
‘What do the doctors believe to be the cause of her illness?’
‘They are all baffled. First they thought it was diabetes, then blood poisoning. Now they fear the worst and they are treating her for cholera.’
She lowered her head and when she raised it again, her eyes were full of tears. ‘I will tell you a terrible thing, Dr Watson. Part of me wants her to die. I have never thought that of another human being, not even my first husband when he was at his most drunken and violent. But sometimes I find myself thinking that if Eliza were to go, at least Edmund and I would be left in peace. She seems intent on tearing us apart.’
‘Would you like me to come with you to Wimbledon?’ I asked.
‘Would you?’ Her eyes brightened. ‘Edmund did not want me to see Sherlock Holmes. There were two reasons. As far as he was concerned, his business with your colleague was over. The man from Boston who was shadowing him is dead and there seems nothing more to be done. And were we to bring a detective to the house, he feared it would only persuade Eliza that she was right.’
‘Whereas you thought…?’
‘I hoped Mr Holmes would prove my innocence.’
‘If it will help to ease your mind, I will be glad to accompany you,’ I said. ‘I should warn that I am only a general practitioner and my experience is limited, but my long collaboration with Sherlock Holmes has given me an eye for the unusual and it may be that I notice something that your other advisers have missed.’
‘Are you sure, Dr Watson? I would be so very grateful. I still sometimes feel such a stranger in this country that it’s a blessing to have anyone on my side.’
We left together. I had no wish at all to leave Baker Street but I could see that there was nothing to be gained by sitting there on my own. Although Lestrade was active on my behalf, I had yet to be given permission to visit Holmes at Holloway. Mycroft would not arrive at the Diogenes Club until the afternoon. And despite what Mrs Carstairs had said, the mystery of the man in the flat cap was far from resolved. It would be interesting to see Edmund Carstairs and his sister again, and although I knew that I was a very poor replacement for Holmes himself, it still might be possible that I would see or hear something that might shed a little light on what was happening and hasten my friend’s release.
Carstairs was not at first pleased to see me when I presented myself in the hallway of his home with its elegant artworks and softly ticking clock. He had been about to leave for lunch and was meticulously dressed in a frock coat, grey satin cravat and well-varnished shoes. His top hat and walking stick were on a table by the door. ‘Dr Watson!’ he exclaimed. He turned to his wife. ‘I thought we had agreed that we would not be resorting to the services of Sherlock Holmes.’
‘I am not Holmes,’ I said.
‘Indeed not. I was just reading in the paper that Mr Holmes has fallen into the most disreputable circumstances.’
‘He did so in pursuit of the business that you brought to his door.’
‘A business that has now been concluded.’
‘He does not think so.’
‘I beg to disagree.’
‘Come, Edmund,’ Mrs Carstairs cut in. ‘Dr Watson has very kindly travelled with me all the way from London. He has agreed to see Eliza and give us the benefit of his opinion.’