remarked Holmes as we made our way to the station. “Well,Watson, we have come on a good many facts, some of them newones, and yet I seem some way from my conclusion. In spite ofthe very evident dislike which Mr. Bates has to his employer, Igather from him that when the alarm came he was undoubtedlyin his library. Dinner was over at 8:30 and all was normal up tothen. It is true that the alarm was somewhat late in the evening,but the tragedy certainly occurred about the hour named in thenote. There is no evidence at all that Mr. Gibson had been outof doors since his return from town at five o’clock. On the otherhand, Miss Dunbar, as I understand it, admits that she had madean appointment to meet Mrs. Gibson at the bridge. Beyond thisshe would say nothing, as her lawyer had advised her to reserveher defence. We have several very vital questions to ask that younglady, and my mind will not be easy until we have seen her. I mustconfess that the case would seem to me to be very black againsther if it were not for one thing.”
“And what is that, Holmes?”
“The finding of the pistol in her wardrobe.”
“Dear me, Holmes!” I cried, “that seemed to me to be the mostdamning incident of all.”
“Not so, Watson. It had struck me even at my first perfunctoryreading as very strange, and now that I am in closer touch withthe case it is my only firm ground for hope. We must look forconsistency. Where there is a want of it we must suspect deception.”
“I hardly follow you.”
“Well now, Watson, suppose for a moment that we visualize youin the character of a woman who, in a cold, premeditated fashion,is about to get rid of a rival. You have planned it. A note has beenwritten. The victim has come. You have your weapon. The crimeis done. It has been workmanlike and complete. Do you tell methat after carrying out so crafty a crime you would now ruinyour reputation as a criminal by forgetting to fling your weaponinto those adjacent reed-beds which would forever cover it, butyou must needs carry it carefully home and put it in your ownwardrobe, the very first place that would be searched? Your bestfriends would hardly call you a schemer, Watson, and yet I couldnot picture you doing anything so crude as that.”
“In the excitement of the moment——”
“No, no, Watson, I will not admit that it is possible. Where acrime is coolly premeditated, then the means of covering it arecoolly premeditated also. I hope, therefore, that we are in thepresence of a serious misconception.”
“But there is so much to explain.”
“Well, we shall set about explaining it. When once your point ofview is changed, the very thing which was so damning becomes aclue to the truth. For example, there is this revolver. Miss Dunbardisclaims all knowledge of it. On our new theory she is speakingtruth when she says so. Therefore, it was placed in her wardrobe.
Who placed it there? Someone who wished to incriminate her.
Was not that person the actual criminal? You see how we come atonce upon a most fruitful line of inquiry.”
We were compelled to spend the night at Winchester, as theformalities had not yet been completed, but next morning, in thecompany of Mr. Joyce Cummings, the rising barrister who wasentrusted with the defence, we were allowed to see the younglady in her cell. I had expected from all that we had heard tosee a beautiful woman, but I can never forget the effect whichMiss Dunbar produced upon me. It was no wonder that even themasterful millionaire had found in her something more powerfulthan himself—something which could control and guide him. Onefelt, too, as one looked at the strong, clear-cut, and yet sensitiveface, that even should she be capable of some impetuous deed,none the less there was an innate nobility of character whichwould make her influence always for the good. She was a brunette,tall, with a noble figure and commanding presence, but her darkeyes had in them the appealing, helpless expression of the huntedcreature who feels the nets around it, but can see no way out fromthe toils. Now, as she realized the presence and the help of myfamous friend, there came a touch of colour in her wan cheeks anda light of hope began to glimmer in the glance which she turnedupon us.
“Perhaps Mr. Neil Gibson has told you something of whatoccurred between us?” she asked in a low, agitated voice.
“Yes,” Holmes answered, “you need not pain yourself by enteringinto that part of the story. After seeing you, I am prepared toaccept Mr. Gibson’s statement both as to the influence which youhad over him and as to the innocence of your relations with him.
But why was the whole situation not brought out in court?”
“It seemed to me incredible that such a charge could besustained. I thought that if we waited the whole thing must clearitself up without our being compelled to enter into painful detailsof the inner life of the family. But I understand that far fromclearing it has become even more serious.”
“My dear young lady,” cried Holmes earnestly, “I beg you to haveno illusions upon the point. Mr. Cummings here would assureyou that all the cards are at present against us, and that we mustdo everything that is possible if we are to win clear. It would be acruel deception to pretend that you are not in very great danger.
Give me all the help you can, then, to get at the truth.”
“I will conceal nothing.”
“Tell us, then, of your true relations with Mr. Gibson’s wife.”
