Moriarty

‘I doubt that they would have very much to tell us, Watson — and I suspect that the same will be true of the Abernettys. However, we shall see. This is the front door … in need of fresh paint. The whole house appears neglected. Still, it came to them as a bequest, and a most generous one it must be said. Will you ring, Watson? Ah — I think I hear someone approach.’

The door was opened by Harold Abernetty, a tall, slow-moving man with stooped shoulders, deeply lined features and long silver hair. He was about sixty years old and reminded me, I must confess, of an undertaker. His expression was certainly very mournful and he was wearing a morning coat, which was sober and a little threadbare.

‘Inspector Jones!’ he exclaimed, recognising our companion. ‘Do you have any news? I am glad to see you. But who are these gentlemen whom you have brought with you?’

‘This is Mr Sherlock Holmes, the famous detective,’ Jones replied. ‘And this is his companion, Dr Watson.’

‘Mr Holmes! But of course I know the name. I must say to you, sir, that I am amazed that so trifling a matter should be of interest to one such as you.’

‘The death of a man is never trifling,’ Holmes retorted.

‘Indeed so. I was referring to the theft of the statues. But it was quite wrong of me. Will you please come in?’

The house shared the same proportions as Mrs Webster’s, but it had a clammy, quite sombre feel. Even though it was still inhabited, it was as if it had been abandoned. Mrs Abernetty was waiting for us in the parlour. She was a very small woman, almost swallowed up by the armchair in which she sat, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief and still barely able to speak.

‘This is a terrible business, Mr Holmes,’ Abernetty began. ‘I have already explained everything to the inspector but I am of course willing to help you in any way I can.’

‘This is my fault,’ Mrs Abernetty sobbed. ‘Harold shot that young man for my sake.’

‘It was my wife who woke me,’ Abernetty continued. ‘She had heard a door being broken open and sent me downstairs to investigate. I took the gun with me, although I never intended to use it. When the man saw me and came rushing towards me … even then, I didn’t know what I was doing. I fired the shot and saw him fall — and wish with all my heart that I could have wounded him and not brought an end to his young life.’

‘What did you do after he had fallen?’

‘I hurried to my wife and told her that I was unharmed. Then I got dressed. My intention was to find the nearest police officer but first I noticed the bag that the young man had brought with him and, although I knew I should not tamper with the evidence, I took a look inside. That was when I saw the three china figures, lying next to each other. I recognised one of them as being our own. I had bought it for my wife as a souvenir of the Golden Jubilee and I saw at once that it was missing from its place on the sideboard. As you can imagine, I was completely astounded by the presence of the other two — but then I remembered that I had seen one in Mrs Webster’s front room.’

‘It was on her piano,’ Mrs Abernetty said.

‘I realised then that we might not be the only victims of burglary that night, something that was soon confirmed when Inspector Jones began his enquiry.’

‘You cannot blame my husband. He did nothing wrong. He never intended to hurt anyone.’

‘You do not need to distress yourself, Mrs Abernetty,’ Holmes assured her. ‘I have seen your neighbour, Mrs Webster. She speaks very highly of you.’

‘She is a good woman,’ Abernetty said, ‘still much distressed by the loss of her husband last August. But we are all advancing in years. These things are to be expected.’

‘She told us about Matilda Briggs.’

Abernetty nodded. ‘Then you know how much we owe her. Mrs Briggs employed us for many years. Emilia …’ here he turned to his wife, ‘nursed her through a long illness and, out of gratitude, having no immediate family of her own, she bequeathed us this house in her will.’

‘There was, I believe, a nephew.’

‘He was a colour sergeant with the 92nd Highlanders. He was killed at the Battle of Kandahar in southern Afghanistan.’

‘It must have been a great blow to her.’

‘She was upset, certainly. But the two of them had never been close.’

‘And the rest of the money?’

‘She gave it to the local church, for the relief of the poor,’ Mrs Abernetty said. ‘Mrs Briggs was a very devout person and a member of the Royal Maternity Charity, the Temperance Society, the Society for the Rescue of Young Women and many others.’

Holmes nodded then got his feet, signalling that the interview was over. I was surprised that he had no further questions and that in this instance he chose not to examine the back door or the garden, but then he had already said that he had not expected to learn very much from this encounter. It was only as we left that he turned back to the elderly couple.

‘One last question,’ he said. ‘Where are your neighbours, the stockbroker’s clerk and his family?’