Several days later Inspector Hopkins came to visit. This time we were all present as we spoke with him. Hopkins had developed an amazing time line of events and an incredible narrative. It was difficult for Holmes to give complements but he gave them freely to Hopkins on this occasion. And with Lizzie’s improving health, she was able to fill in a lot of the gaps we had.
Inspector Hopkins first instinct was to arrest Lizzie for the murder of this Arawak woman. It was in self-defense. There was evidence of that all over the house. Even after a good cleaning, Holmes still found the missing pieces. Mr. Merryweather never did get the local constable involved at the time of her death. With all the digging that could be done, the only evidence of Arawak being in England was the ships manifest, which Holmes found. It was beyond belief for us all how one could have a complete family and there be no civil record of these events. We deduced that all the births happened at home with the aid of a well-paid nurse. Well-paid for her silence than her services. So with that being said, Inspector Hopkins let it go until someone higher than he made a move.
I remember a time when Holmes did something similar. A lovely young lady was being mistreated in an unhappy marriage. Holmes figured out who the true killer was but chose to remain silent. At present, as I reflect back on that case; by jove, I think I’m beginning to understand why he let them go. He saw something in that young couple that reminded him of Lizzie.
Even with the apparent disinterest Mr. Merryweather had, we were still reluctant to let him know that Lizzie was alive and well.
“What about Mr. Parker?” Hopkins asked.
We sat in silence for a moment, “I do believe we need to tell him.” Lizzie looked sad. “He is getting old. And the fact that he had a conversation with you Sherlock, in the absents of Cooper means that he does not share all with Mr. Merryweather.” We just looked at each other. “My father is getting old. I have no wish for him to die without knowing that I am alive.”
Holmes got up walking over to the fireplace, “what if it was a set up? What if that was a ruse to gain our trust?” He started pacing, “Ara, you hid from the man when he got close to you.”
“I did,” she sighed. “I was afraid. He did after all play the upper hand in my marrying Mr. Merryweather.” We remained in silence for a long time. She spoke, “it is the right thing to do.”
“The right thing to do,” Holmes fired off.
She walked over to him putting her hand over his heart, “I will die Sherlock but not by my father’s influence.”
Inspector Hopkins and I just looked at each other. She moved to the window.
“Then let me arrange it,” Inspector Hopkins spoke. “Here.”
“Indeed,” Holmes shook his head.
“Do you believe your father can keep such joy at bay?” I asked. “I would be inclined to scream it from the mountain tops.”
“I would enjoy nothing more than arresting Mr. Merryweather but I’m afraid I need more evidence.” He began to say more but Lizzie cut him off.
“I wish not to hear about these things. We shall keep building.”
“I will arrange our meeting.” The inspector got up to leave.
“Let us go for a walk gentlemen, I need fresh air.” Lizzie reported.
“Then open a window,” Holmes scolded.
“I will go without you.”
“This I know.”
We all left for an evening stroll around the neighborhood. A vendor was selling live rabbits. She made such a fuss over them. He even let her pet one. Holmes just rolled his eyes. “They are my favorite. When I was little father let me have a pet rabbit.” We stayed there for the longest time. I sat with her petting the rabbit. It curled up in her lap like it knew her. Much as a dog would sit in its master’s lap. I saw out of the corner of my eye, Holmes slipped the vender some money, which made him happy. On our way home, Lizzie bought a bouquet of flowers. Upon our return, she gave them to Mrs. Hudson. Mrs. Hudson giggled like a young girl, smiling from ear to ear.
Over the course of the next few weeks, the weather got warmer and our walks got longer. Summer was now in full swing. Lizzie was doing much better. One afternoon Holmes was out, she and I went for a walk. Like the true gentleman that I was, I let her hold on to my arm. I knew that if anything happened to her, Holmes would be outraged with me.
We walked in silence until she spoke, “ask your questions doctor?” She smiled.
“They are trivial at best.” I tried to brush it off.
She grinned, “ask.”
“Very well,” I blushed. “Why does Holmes call you Ara? I know it is a shortening of your first name. Even Mycroft calls you Lizzie. And the two of you seem to be quite close.”
“The answer is quiet simple doctor. I like the way it sounds coming from his lips. The way he says it, it almost sounds like a whispered breath. Pay attention the next time he says it.” She blushed this time.
“I am quite sure that he loves you.”
“I know he does doctor. Love was never the issue.”
I stopped, looking desperately at her. “If love was never the issue, then what?”
“You read my journal?”
“Yes, many times.”
“Then what did I say?”
“That if Holmes would have married you, he would have never reached his full potential.”
“This is true. You know him. You know when he is happy and when he is chasing the Black Dog. He is his happiest when confronted with a problem, a challenge. Holmes is a brilliant man. But how do you think it would reflect on his wife if she knew he was down at the morgue beating corpses?”
“Lots of the inspectors are married.”
“This is true. When given the chance, conduct and experiment; talk to married men, find out how many of them are happily married. Ask their wives too.” I just stood there in shock; I knew not what to say. “I love him with all my heart, Watson. I love him enough to know that marriage would have broken him. Much like Mrs. Tarter’s brother, not physically of course but spiritually; it would have crushed him.”
“I fail to see your point.”
She smiled, “let me put it to you this way. Birds are beautiful creatures to look upon. But what happens to a bird when you put it in a cage?”
I was unsure where she was going with her analogy. So after a long moment I said, “they die.”
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