A Study in Sherlock

“Yes. He confirms that the colonel not only received a call from Mr. Wedge yesterday, but that two days earlier, Mr. Wedge, while in an inebriated condition, attempted to visit him. The colonel barred him from the house, told him to sleep it off in the horse barn, and, according to Rawls, added that he’d better not show his face around here again until he’d gained some sense. But he also added that the colonel was embarrassed about Mr. Wedge, and never discussed him with the staff.”

“Mr. Simms, did you know of this drunken visit?”

Anthony Simms glanced at his sister, then shook his head.

“No. Shocking.”

“He mentioned it to me,” Alice said. “Sorry, darling,” she said to Anthony. “I should have told you.”

“Interesting,” Slye said. “But we are interrupting again. Sheriff, please do continue.”

The sheriff consulted his notes. “Shortly after the Simmses arrived, a delivery truck from the village grocer drove up to the back of the house. Normally the boy would have been here early in the morning, but the storm made him decide to make deliveries to his customers who lived on less well maintained roads before those lanes became impassable. He had been delayed all the same, and a lucky thing that turned out to be. The housekeeper, certain that she had seen the colonel’s car, wondered if he might have had a flat tire, or some other problem. The young man told her he had seen the Rolls, some distance ahead of him, but not the colonel’s Model T. But he promised the housekeeper that he’d keep an eye out on his way back to the village.

“The storm eased about then, and so as the delivery boy made his return trip, he looked down each of the lanes as he passed them. At the fourth such lane, he was greeted with a startling sight—young Mr. Harris, his face covered in blood, lying next to a car.

“The boy hurried down the lane, thinking there had been a terrible accident, but the car appeared to be undamaged. He hardly gave it more than a glance, though, because when he got out of the truck and knelt next to Robert Harris, he saw that the colonel’s son had been shot.

“I’ll say this for the lad—he had presence of mind. He looked around quickly, and seeing no sign of the colonel or anyone else, put Mr. Harris into his truck and drove as fast as he could toward the village—smart enough to figure out that the doctor would be there, rather than wasting time taking the wounded man back up here, where they’d only have to wait for the doctor to come up. The doctor did the best he could for him, then drove him to Mercy Hospital over in Tarrington.”

“They’ve an excellent man there,” I said. “Dr. Charles Smith. We served together overseas. He’ll know what to do for such injuries.”

“I’m glad to hear that—that’s the very man who’s caring for him. I’ve also got two of my deputies there to guard him, and to see if he can tell them anything once the doctor permits them to question him.”

He rubbed a hand over his forehead, as if to clear his thoughts.

“So while Robert Harris was being cared for by the medical men, I was called, and the boy took me back to the lane. I was quite anxious to find the colonel, of course. Unfortunately, although his car is there, he’s nowhere nearby.”

“May I take a look at it?” Wishy asked.

“Yes, I hope you will, because I must say there’s something—” He glanced at the Simmses and said, “We can discuss all this along the way.”

He rang for Rawls, and asked him to fetch his deputies up from the kitchen, where they had been offered hot coffee and sandwiches.

“Are we to be kept prisoner here, then?” asked Alice.

“It’s best for now if you wait here, under guard. I would hate to see any further harm come to any member of your family.”

“For our own protection, then?”

“That, and because I feel certain I’ll have more questions for you.”

“Can I at least stroll around the gardens now that the sun is out?”

The sheriff hesitated, glancing at Slye, who gave the slightest shake of his head. “No, miss,” the sheriff said, “I can’t risk it. You’ll stay in this room, please, and if you have need, there’s a lavatory just across the hall. Should you need anything else, food or drink, just ring for Rawls and I’m sure he’ll bring it to you.”

She pouted, but clearly saw she’d not win him over. Anthony tried to argue that they should at least be given the run of their own uncle’s house, but the sheriff, I was quickly learning, was a man who could assert his will when necessary.

The trip to the lane where the car was still parked was brief but productive. Wishy wouldn’t hear of taking the Pierce-Arrow down the narrow muddy track, so we cautiously made our way on foot. Fortunately, the summer sun had been out for a little while, so at least we weren’t making the trip in the rain.