The Case of the Defiled Countess
The sky was dark
over all of London and the gusts of wind so intense they rattled the shutters of
our windows. "Watson, do see if you
can attend to that vexing draft?" Holmes pulled his heavy afghan blanket closer to his chest and stoked
the fire whilst I walked around the room surveying the windows to see which had
not been properly closed.
A slight ripple
in the drapes of the window overlooking Baker Street drew my attention, and as
I moved in to reposition it, I saw a carriage was pulling up to our front
door. "Holmes? I believe we may have company," I
said.
"At this
hour?" Holmes said. He drew a
pocket watch from his robe and frowned at the time. "I suppose you should go down and see
what our visitor requires before Mrs. Hudson is awakened. We'll hear no end of her complaints if she
is."
I took up a
lantern as I headed down the staircase and had not yet reached the bottom when
the caller slammed the heavy knocker on our door louder than cannonfire. I winced as Mrs. Hudson charged toward her
door shouting, "What kind of ruffian calls on someone in the middle of the
night?" through the walls.
She threw her
door open and I smiled sheepishly. "Good
evening, Mrs. Hudson. I apologize for
the noise. I was trying to get the door
open before you were disturbed."
Mrs. Hudson was
still tying her robe around her waist as she looked up at me, not bothering to
cover up the plunging neckline that revealed her heaving bosom. A handsome woman not yet in her sixtieth
year, her hair was dark and grey as it hanged loose about her shoulders. It was the first time I hadn't seen it pinned
up in a tight bun. "I suppose this
is normal for the likes of you and Mr. Holmes," she sniffed. "But I run a respectable home and must
demand the same from anyone who stays here."
I caught myself
lingering over her surprisingly ample cleavage and snapped myself out of it in
time to say, "Of course, Mrs. Hudson. That is to be expected. I will
see that it does not happen again."
"See that it
does not, or I shall be forced to raise your rent."
Once her door was
shut, I bounded down the rest of the stairs, terrified our new guest would bang
the knocker again. The rain was coming
down hard enough that I could hear it spattering against the cobblestones on
the walk outside. I opened the door only
to rear back at the sight of a darkly dressed apparition.
The figure did
not wait for me to offer an invitation. I was able to make out a woman's hat and black laced veil dangling from
the brim, covering most of our visitor's face, but even in the dim glow of the
gaslight, I could make out her shining green eyes. Her perfectly formed lips and narrow chin
peeked out from beneath the veil, but the rest of her was all buttons and
topcoats. "Shut the door behind me,
quickly, I beg you," she hissed.
Before I could comply,
she grabbed the door from my hands and closed it herself. "Is someone chasing you?" I said.
"No. Are you the detective?"
"He is
upstairs. But first may I say it is
highly unusual for us to receive visitors so late and we prefer you make an
appointment at a respectable hour. " I raised my voice loud enough for Mrs. Hudson
to hear the last part. I looked at the
woman with a sideways grin and mouthed I
apologize , then waved for her to follow me upstairs.
I rapped on the
door to 221-B and said, "Holmes, we have company."
"I deduced
that from the knocking on our door, dear fellow." Holmes stood to his feet and extended his
hand to the woman, "Good evening, Countess Barrymore. How might I be of service?"
She gasped and
pressed her hand over veiled mouth, "However did you…who told you? I demand an explanation!"
Holmes smiled
gently and said, "No one, I quite assure you. And your confidence shall be kept regardless
of the circumstances."
He moved his hand
for her to be seated but she did not move. "First,
The sky was dark
over all of London and the gusts of wind so intense they rattled the shutters of
our windows. "Watson, do see if you
can attend to that vexing draft?" Holmes pulled his heavy afghan blanket closer to his chest and stoked
the fire whilst I walked around the room surveying the windows to see which had
not been properly closed.
A slight ripple
in the drapes of the window overlooking Baker Street drew my attention, and as
I moved in to reposition it, I saw a carriage was pulling up to our front
door. "Holmes? I believe we may have company," I
said.
"At this
hour?" Holmes said. He drew a
pocket watch from his robe and frowned at the time. "I suppose you should go down and see
what our visitor requires before Mrs. Hudson is awakened. We'll hear no end of her complaints if she
is."
I took up a
lantern as I headed down the staircase and had not yet reached the bottom when
the caller slammed the heavy knocker on our door louder than cannonfire. I winced as Mrs. Hudson charged toward her
door shouting, "What kind of ruffian calls on someone in the middle of the
night?" through the walls.
She threw her
door open and I smiled sheepishly. "Good
evening, Mrs. Hudson. I apologize for
the noise. I was trying to get the door
open before you were disturbed."
Mrs. Hudson was
still tying her robe around her waist as she looked up at me, not bothering to
cover up the plunging neckline that revealed her heaving bosom. A handsome woman not yet in her sixtieth
year, her hair was dark and grey as it hanged loose about her shoulders. It was the first time I hadn't seen it pinned
up in a tight bun. "I suppose this
is normal for the likes of you and Mr. Holmes," she sniffed. "But I run a respectable home and must
demand the same from anyone who stays here."
I caught myself
lingering over her surprisingly ample cleavage and snapped myself out of it in
time to say, "Of course, Mrs. Hudson. That is to be expected. I will
see that it does not happen again."
"See that it
does not, or I shall be forced to raise your rent."
Once her door was
shut, I bounded down the rest of the stairs, terrified our new guest would bang
the knocker again. The rain was coming
down hard enough that I could hear it spattering against the cobblestones on
the walk outside. I opened the door only
to rear back at the sight of a darkly dressed apparition.
The figure did
not wait for me to offer an invitation. I was able to make out a woman's hat and black laced veil dangling from
the brim, covering most of our visitor's face, but even in the dim glow of the
gaslight, I could make out her shining green eyes. Her perfectly formed lips and narrow chin
peeked out from beneath the veil, but the rest of her was all buttons and
topcoats. "Shut the door behind me,
quickly, I beg you," she hissed.
Before I could comply,
she grabbed the door from my hands and closed it herself. "Is someone chasing you?" I said.
"No. Are you the detective?"
"He is
upstairs. But first may I say it is
highly unusual for us to receive visitors so late and we prefer you make an
appointment at a respectable hour. " I raised my voice loud enough for Mrs. Hudson
to hear the last part. I looked at the
woman with a sideways grin and mouthed I
apologize , then waved for her to follow me upstairs.
I rapped on the
door to 221-B and said, "Holmes, we have company."
"I deduced
that from the knocking on our door, dear fellow." Holmes stood to his feet and extended his
hand to the woman, "Good evening, Countess Barrymore. How might I be of service?"
She gasped and
pressed her hand over veiled mouth, "However did you…who told you? I demand an explanation!"
Holmes smiled
gently and said, "No one, I quite assure you. And your confidence shall be kept regardless
of the circumstances."
He moved his hand
for her to be seated but she did not move. "First,
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