Death at Dartmoor by Robin Paige Page B

Irish—that she had determined to make them all quite miserable. Kate and Charles married, against her wishes, in 1896. The years since had often been difficult, especially after Charles’s older brother Robert died, bequeathing to him the responsibilities of the Sommersworth estate, the family seat in the House of Lords, and the care and maintenance of their mother. But Charles and Kate had agreed that when they were not in London for the sitting of Parliament, the two of them would live at Bishop’s Keep, the Essex estate she had inherited from her Ardleigh aunts. Now that both his brother and his mother were dead and Charles no longer had to keep a kind of peace in the family, he was free to do what he liked with Sommersworth, free, even, to resign the peerage, if he chose, and return to the life of a country gentleman, amateur photographer, and student of the forensic sciences. Kate knew that this was a tempting prospect, and, accounted, in part, for his present pleasant state of mind.
    â€œHow did your work at the prison go today?” she asked.
    â€œOh, very well,” Charles said. “The prison is unspeakably appalling, but it was good to see Oliver Cranford again, and there are one or two young guards who are quite interested in the fingerprinting project. Tomorrow I shall introduce them to the rudiments of analysis and classification. With a little study, I’m sure that they shall become expert enough to do the job without supervision.”
    â€œI’ m so glad,” Kate said. There was nothing the fifth baron of Sommersworth liked quite so much as teaching a student who showed both interest and aptitude. If Charles had been permitted to choose the course of his life, he might have become a schoolmaster or a university lecturer in one of the sciences. But there was still time for that, if he chose—and whatever he chose, she would support him.
    â€œDoyle happened to mention that he was at work on another of his Holmes mysteries,” Charles remarked, stirring his tea. “It’s to be called The Hound of—’ ” He frowned. “Dash it all, I’ve forgot the title. The Hound of Something-or-Other. It’s set here on the moor.”
    â€œIt must take place before Holmes’s disappearance in ‘The Final Problem,’ ” Kate said thoughtfully. “Or does he plan to resurrect the man?”
    â€œHe insists that Sherlock is still quite dead,” Charles said. “This story takes place before the Falls.” He frowned. “You know, I reread ‘The Final Problem’ not long ago and found certain incidents quite problematic. In fact, the whole thing required, shall we say, a definite suspension of disbelief.”
    â€œAn interesting phrase,” Kate murmured, thinking about her own problems with the story. “Can you give me an instance?”
    â€œWell, take the final confrontation between Holmes and Moriarty, for example. It occurs at Reichenbach Falls, after the professor has pursued Holmes throughout Europe. Both of them have anticipated their encounter for weeks, and yet neither is armed. You will recall that Sherlock displays his revolver early in the story, when Professor Moriarty confronts him in Baker Street. After that incident, Holmes believes that Moriarty’s sole object in life is his destruction. But what does he do?”
    Kate started to reply, but Charles, now speaking rather warmly, answered his own question. “He wanders about Europe unarmed, that’s what he does. You’ll pardon me if I have difficulty believing that anyone would be that careless.”
    â€œBut Holmes is armed, if I recall,” Kate objected. “That is, he has his alpenstock, which Watson later finds leaning against a rock.”
    â€œExactly,” Charles said, with some sarcasm. “Against a rock. And apparently the Napolean of crime does not have a gun, or chooses not to use it, for the two men