The Grimswell Curse by Sam Siciliano Page B

on the street.”
    “I saw him earlier while I was waiting.”
    “He might have been having a stroll before catching his train.”
    Holmes shrugged. “Perhaps.” He glanced up at Lord Frederick. “I have a few loose ends to wrap up, but I shall be on the ten-fifteen train to Devon tomorrow morning. Be here at eight forty-five sharp should you wish to accompany me.”
    Digby rose, a broad smile on his face. “Wonderful, Mr. Holmes! I shall be here—count on it. I had better get home and start packing. If the weather holds, we should have some splendid days. Dartmoor can be spectacular in early November. Nothing like a good hike on the moors. And of course, we’ll get to the bottom of this business in no time! Good afternoon, Mr. Holmes, doctor.” He started eagerly for the door, then winced and put his hand on his forehead. He pulled on his gloves, then took his top hat and stick. “Until tomorrow, then.” He closed the door behind himself.
    Holmes looked at me and smiled. “Besides your reluctance to leave Michelle, there is the prospect of days with Lord Frederick. I fear I will be on my own in Dartmoor.”
    I shook my head grimly. “No, I shall not abandon you to a train ride alone in his company. I shall come, for a while at least. He does seem such a dolt.”
    Holmes went to the window and stared down at the street. “He is not, you know. Much of his behavior is merely a role, another costume he puts on and takes off. He graduated near the top of his class at Balliol.”
    I was truly amazed. “Are you serious?”
    “Yes. I have been doing some checking on Lord Frederick. Whatever his faults, he was never one of those students who teetered on the brink of failure and disgrace. He did quite well at Oxford. He wrote essays in a student magazine. I have been reading one on the poetry of Swinburne.”
    “Swinburne—good Lord!”
    “I am certain he could speak quite properly if he wished to.” Holmes took off his frock coat and draped it over the settee. “But you really are going to come? Excellent, Henry! You are good luck for me—two of my most challenging cases could not have been solved without your assistance.”
    “Rubbish. You would have figured them out, anyway.”
    “All the same, I shall be glad for your company. Even I, who have faced many a danger, must confess to a certain fearful tremor at the thought of that solitary train ride with Lord Frederick.”
    I laughed. “I wish Michelle could come.”
    “She would be most welcome. I am certain she could gain Miss Grimswell’s confidence.”
    “She is far too busy to leave her practice this abruptly.”
    “Perhaps it is just as well. I would not wish to put her in any danger.”
    My stomach did a somersault, and I stared at him. “You think it may come to that?”
    “Yes. As I’ve said, men have been killed for far less than four hundred thousand pounds.” A gentle rap sounded at the door. “Come in.”
    Mrs. Hudson appeared. “Mr. Holmes, there is a young—”
    Before she could finish, a young woman marched around her, fists clenched, her upper lip curled back in a kind of snarl. Her finery augmented her beauty, the sharp, clean lines of her nose, cheek and jaw. Her blond hair was bound up and hidden under a mauve hat which matched her elegant silken dress. She was small, barely five feet tall, if that, with a remarkably tiny waist, no doubt the result of a slender figure and a tightly laced corset.
    “Mr. Holmes, I must speak to you about that despicable wretch.” She had stopped before Holmes and stared up at him.
    “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson,” Holmes said, then lowered his gaze. “Of whom are you speaking, madam?”
    “Of Digby—of Lord Frederick .” She said his title with scorn and sarcasm.
    “Ah.” Holmes gave a nod, then gestured at a chair. “Would you care to be seated?”
    “No, I would not care to be seated. I am too angry to be seated.” She began to pace, then glanced up at me. “Who is this person?”
    “My