The Little Book
The little book was on the table between us. I produced my notebook to make some notes. “Who do you think this woman is writing to?”
Holmes was silent for a moment, which was his custom most of the time. “At present, us. We are the ones reading the narrative.”
“There are times in the writing Holmes, that it seems she is writing to you.” Holmes said nothing. “We can deduce from her wording that she is an American?” I asked.
“Agreed.”
“By her own admission this was an arranged marriage.”
“From the tone, I suspect there was something amiss between the unneeded governess and THE MAN.” Holmes added.
“What was Shire?” I asked.
Holmes raised an eyebrow, “a horse.”
“Really?”
“Shire’s are draught horses. They are bred to work; bred to be massive horses. Some have been known to be 19 hands high and weight more than 820 kg’s. It will take more data before I can formulate an opinion as to how THE MAN killed him, poison is always an option. As I suspect he did.”
“But there is nothing in the book to assume he was poisoned.”
“Noted.”
“The same person that wrote the letter wrote in the journal?”
“Yes.”
“The writing in the letter is neater than the book.”
“Different pens. Different setting.”
There was a knock at the door which surprised us both and quiet alarmed me. It was Mrs. Hudson.
“Mr. Holmes sir, your brother is here to see you.” She stood out of the way and Mycroft Holmes stepped inside.
“My boy, stay where you are. I cannot stay long.” He walked over to the fire. “I popped around to apologize.” He stood with his hands clasped behind his back facing Sherlock Holmes. “As you know, this is out of my usual routine. I felt it was important to tell you that though I feel strongly about what I said,” he pointed a fat finger at Holmes. “I am right after all.” He put his hand back behind his back. “I may have gotten a little out of line in my presentation.”
Holmes scoffed. For along moment there was silence between us. Finally he said, “accepted and appreciated.”
“Come around to the Diogenes Club when you can.” He moved to leave, “both of you.”
“As long as that subject never comes up again,” Holmes remarked.
“I cannot promise, though I will try.” Mycroft said smiling as he walked out the door.
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