Moriarty

Her strategy was obvious. She wanted to speak to me on my own and had arranged things to that effect. Throughout the evening, I had been amused to watch my friend, Athelney Jones, in the privacy of his home. So forceful and single-minded when pursuing his investigation, he was altogether quieter and less demonstrative in the company of his wife. Their closeness was indisputable. They filled each other’s silences and anticipated the other’s demands. And yet I would have said that she was by far the stronger of the two. In her company, Jones lost much of his authority and it made me think that even Sherlock Holmes might have been a lesser detective had he chosen to marry.

Her husband stood up. He took the parcel, kissed her gently on the forehead, and left the room. She waited until she had heard the front door open and close. Then she looked at me in a quite different way, no longer the hostess, and I realised that she was assessing me, deciding whether to draw me into some inner circle of confidence.

‘My husband tells me that you have been a detective with Pinkerton’s for some time,’ she began.

‘For longer than I care to remember, Mrs Jones,’ I replied, ‘although strictly speaking, I am an investigator, not a detective. It is not quite the same thing.’

‘In what way?’

‘We are more straightforward in our methods. A crime is committed. We investigate it. But in most cases it is simply a matter of procedure, which is to say that, unlike the British, we do not go in so much for duplicity and deception.’

‘Do you enjoy the work?’

I thought for a moment. ‘Yes. There are people in this world who are very bad, who bring nothing but misery to others, and I think it is right to bring them down.’

‘You are not married?’

‘No.’

‘You have never been tempted?’

‘You are very forthright.’

‘I hope I do not offend you. I only wish to know you a little better. It is important to me.’

‘Then I will answer your question. Of course I have been tempted. But I have been of a solitary nature ever since I was a child and in recent years I have allowed my work to consume me. I like the idea of matrimony but I am not sure that for me it would be ideal.’ I was uncomfortable with the way the conversation was turning and tried to change the subject. ‘You have a beautiful home, Mrs Jones, and a charming family.’

‘My husband is very taken with you, Mr Chase.’

‘For that I am grateful.’

‘And what, I wonder, do you make of him?’

I put down my coffee cup. ‘I’m not sure I know what you mean.’

‘Do you like him?’

‘Do you really want me to answer that?’

‘I would not have asked you if I did not.’

‘I like him very much. He has welcomed me as a stranger to this country and he has been singularly kind to me when others, I am sure, would have been obstructive. He is also, if I may say so, a brilliant man. In fact, I would go further and add that I have never met a detective quite like him. His methods are extraordinary.’

‘Does he remind you of anyone?’

I paused. ‘He reminds me of Sherlock Holmes.’

‘Yes.’ Suddenly her voice was cold. ‘Sherlock Holmes.’

‘Mrs Jones — that you have deliberately arranged for your husband to leave is obvious. But I don’t know why, and I feel it is discourteous to discuss him in his absence. So why don’t you tell me. What is it that is on your mind?’

She said nothing but examined me carefully and, sitting there with the firelight reflecting softly on her face, I suddenly thought her very beautiful. Eventually she spoke. ‘My husband keeps an office upstairs,’ she said. ‘He uses it sometimes as a retreat, when he is involved in a case. Would you care to see it?’

‘Very much.’

‘And I would very much like to show it to you. You need have no concern, by the way. I am permitted to enter when I wish and we will only be there for a minute or two.’

I followed her out of the room and up the stairs past watercolours — mainly birds and butterflies — hanging in plain wooden frames on the striped paper. We reached the first landing and entered a small, uncarpeted room that looked out onto the back garden. I knew at once that this was where Jones worked. And yet it was not he who dominated the room.