She did not elucidate why there was so little socializing between Inspector Treadles and his trusted lieutenant outside of Scotland Yard, but Lord Ingram knew. Mrs. Treadles had not been born into the same social stratum as himself and Holmes, but her late father’s wealth, however new and sooty, meant that her station in life was far above that of the man she married—and therefore also far above that of the vast, vast majority of his colleagues.
He’d been to the Treadles residence, a wedding gift from her father. It was not large or showy, but sat at an excellent address and was beautifully furnished within—an acquisition that would have been beyond the means of any mere policeman, unless he were the commissioner himself.
And even then, to afford the house, he would probably have needed to economize in other areas of his life.
Little wonder then that Sergeant MacDonald had not been invited for Sunday dinners or other occasions.
“Sergeant MacDonald looked grave—and shaken—when he was shown in. My heart began to pound. I asked him if the inspector was all right. He assured me that he was well, and then said, ‘But unfortunately he has been arrested for murder.’”
She shivered. Lord Ingram rose, went to the grate, and added coal to the fire.
“I stared at Sergeant MacDonald. I was sure he was spouting gibberish. And yet, after some time, I heard myself ask, ‘For whose murder?’
“‘That of one Mr. John Longstead,’ he said.
“I became truly disoriented. ‘Mr. Longstead—my father’s old friend Mr. Longstead?’ I cried.
“‘I wouldn’t know about that,’ answered Sergeant MacDonald uncertainly. ‘But I understand he did work for Cousins Manufacturing.’”
Mrs. Treadles pinched the space between her brows, her eyes half closed. Lord Ingram felt his own temples throb at the implication of her words.
“That man did far more than work for Cousins,” Mrs. Treadles murmured, as if to herself. “My father supplied the funds and was deft at managing the business, but it was always Mr. Longstead’s engineering acumen that gave us a competitive advantage.
“For twenty-five years they were friends, colleagues, and partners. Mr. Longstead’s health led to his departure—his physician warned that he could no longer work at the sort of feverish pace he sustained. And he only returned to Cousins as a personal favor to me, after I took up the running of the enterprise.”
A sharper focus came into Mrs. Treadles’s eyes as she looked from Holmes to Lord Ingram and back again. “But I saw him last night, alive and well in his own house, only hours before Sergeant MacDonald knocked on my door. And as far as I knew, Inspector Treadles wasn’t even in London—he was away for work.
“So there I was, staring at Sergeant MacDonald, my mind a jumble. Who would murder dear old Mr. Longstead? And why would my husband, who had sworn to uphold law and order, be remotely connected to Mr. Longstead’s death, let alone generate so much suspicion—and evidence—that he was already arrested?
“‘But the inspector barely knows Mr. Longstead!’ I heard myself exclaim.”
Silence.
Mrs. Treadles lowered her face, as if she preferred to address the next part of her account to the tea table. “You probably guessed, Miss Holmes, by the fact that Sergeant MacDonald showed up at my house, rather than my office, at that particular hour, that he didn’t know about my recently acquired responsibilities at Cousins.
“You see, Inspector Treadles was at first not particularly . . . enthusiastic that I’d ventured outside of the domestic sphere. After he returned from the investigation at Stern Hollow, he began to express an interest at last. So I invited Mr. Longstead and his niece to dinner at my house. They then reciprocated the invitation at their house. On both occasions, Inspector Treadles was cordial and respectful to Mr. Longstead, exactly as one ought to conduct oneself before a much-revered family friend.
“The second dinner was more than two weeks ago. Afterward, he expressed an admiration for Mr. Longstead and thought it fortunate I had him as an ally. As far as I know, they never met again. And now to hear him named as a responsible party for Mr. Longstead’s death?
“I poured out my shock and incredulity to Sergeant MacDonald. He was sympathetic, as he himself was no less shocked and firmly believed that Scotland Yard must have made a mistake.”
“Did he see the inspector in person today?” asked Holmes, her tone reflecting none of Mrs. Treadles’s confusion and turmoil.
“No. He said he asked to but wasn’t allowed. And he was warned to keep what he’d been told strictly to himself, except for informing me. He did have a note from the inspector. I’ve brought it, but I’m afraid it isn’t much more informative.”
She took out a piece of paper from her reticule and handed it to Holmes. Holmes scanned it. Then, after a look at Mrs. Treadles for permission, passed it to Lord Ingram.
My dearest Alice,
I’m sorry that Sergeant MacDonald will be the bearer of bad news. I’m sorry that I will cause you much worry and uncertainty. And I’m sorry that it will most likely get worse before it gets better.
I will need to rely, as always, on your strength and resilience.
Difficult days lie ahead, but I remain,
Your most
devoted husband,
Robert
P.S. I love you with all my soul, even if I do not always, or indeed often, deserve you.
Two
Mrs. Treadles gazed at her husband’s note for a while, after Lord Ingram returned it to her. “It’s true that he doesn’t proclaim his innocence in this note, but since he does seem to believe that it will get better . . .”
“Then we should take his professional opinion into account,” said Holmes.
Her client caressed the edge of the note. “After Sergeant MacDonald left, I went around to Scotland Yard. Since I knew that the arrest wasn’t yet common knowledge, I pretended to be, of all things, an admirer of Sherlock Holmes’s and asked if I could meet with Inspector Treadles to learn more about the great consulting detective. There I was told that he wasn’t expected at the Yard today.”
“So Scotland Yard doesn’t want it known that one of its own has been arrested?” murmured Lord Ingram.
“Scotland Yard had a major embarrassment recently, my lord, when they arrested you in triumph and had to later release you with full apologies,” said Holmes. “It’s understandable that they wish to keep the matter hushed for now—or for as long as they can keep it hushed. That does not, of course, help us. The first person I—the first person my brother would wish for me to speak to would be Inspector Treadles himself.”