The Three Locks Bonnie MacBird (best non fiction books to read .TXT) 📖

The young man looked stricken. ‘I would never harm a hair … She … I wonder about the ring.’

Yet another young man worried more about his token?

‘What about the ring?’ asked Holmes, gently. He was, I thought, providing the boy rope with which to hang himself. Both of Miss Wyndham’s betrothed were suspects, I decided. I was now beginning to sense something odd, held back, about Leo Vitale’s manner.

‘Why would she accept me, take my ring, and then accept another the next day? None of this makes sense. Oh, Dillie, I …’ The boy’s eyes moistened.

‘I need two things from you, Mr Vitale,’ said Holmes. ‘First, your exact whereabouts, hour by hour, between your argument outside the Cross and Anchor and this morning at six a.m. And I need you to allow Dr Watson to examine you.’

‘Examine me?’

‘Whoever did this received a beating. She fought back.’

A wave of grief contorted his features and then in an instant was gone. ‘Yes. She would, of course. But I … oh, no, this will only make it worse. I … well, you see …’ He unbuttoned his shirt. Several bright bruises and abrasions were visible. Vitale brushed a long lock of dark hair that hung down over his forehead and onto his cheek. There, next to the left eye, was another recent bruise and a small cut. I felt Holmes stiffen beside me. Neither of us had expected this.

‘It is not what you think,’ said Vitale. ‘I got into a fight last night.’

‘With whom?’

He did not want to say.

‘With whom, Mr Vitale?’ insisted Holmes.

‘Freddie Eden-Summers.’

Holmes and I exchanged a look.

‘Where did this take place?’

The boy looked embarrassed. ‘In the stairway outside his room. Not very wise of me, in retrospect.’

‘Which college was that?’ asked Holmes casually, as if he could not remember.

‘Trinity.’

‘Had you been there before?’ asked Holmes.

Vitale shook his head.

‘How did you find his room, then?’ I asked.

‘I knew it was Trinity, Great Court. I arrived with a large box of cakes and biscuits. The porter was happy to direct me.’

‘In the middle of the night?’ asked Holmes. ‘Where did you find those?’

‘I stole them. A student on my floor is always well provisioned by his parents.’

‘Then that student, at least, saw you?’

‘No, he was asleep when I took them. He heard nothing.’

Holmes stared at Vitale for a long moment. ‘You are holding something back, Mr Vitale. I might even say lying. May I suggest you be forthcoming?’

A noise behind us made all three of us turn to the door. Silhouetted in the doorway, the light behind him, was Cosimo Fortuny.

‘Leo!’ cried Fortuny. ‘What are you doing here? I gave you calculations to run and a report to write up.’ He glanced at Holmes and me. ‘Not these two again! I told you – no visitors!’

I could see the form of a woman hidden behind Fortuny. It appeared that the handsome young scientist had other plans in the laboratory that night.

‘Then who is with you, Cosimo?’ said Leo Vitale angrily. ‘There cannot be one rule for you and another for me!’ He waved towards the dangling tubes. ‘And what is all this nonsense?’

‘This is not a visitor, this is a donor to our research,’ said Fortuny irritably.

I grasped Holmes’s arm. ‘Holmes, shouldn’t we be leaving?’ I whispered.

But my friend’s face was frozen in surprise. I followed his gaze to the door. Cosimo Fortuny had entered, leaving us a clear view of his guest. It was none other than the flamboyant Madame Ilaria Borelli.

‘Madame!’ I exclaimed, gaping in astonishment at what I perceived to be an incomprehensible coincidence.

I turned to Holmes.

He stared at her, fascinated. A slow smile of understanding crossed his face. He nodded. ‘Madame Borelli, the research. Brava!’

CHAPTER 32

Lucifer’s Lights

‘It is Mr Holmes! And the doctor!’ exclaimed Madame Borelli. ‘What a pleasant surprise.’ She turned to Fortuny. ‘Cosimo, this man, Mr Holmes, he saved me when I was being accused of murder!’ She gave Fortuny’s arm a squeeze.

I could not fathom the nature of this coincidence. But my friend clearly did. He continued to nod in understanding.

‘I am on the trail of a great new illusion,’ she said, by way of explanation. ‘You are a detective of murder, Mr Holmes. I am a detective of magic. And I perceive the next great stage effect will come from this laboratory. With this man, Cosimo Fortuny.’

‘Cosimo!’ exclaimed Vitale. ‘A stage effect? Explain this to me!’ He gestured at the hanging mass of tubing.

‘All in good time, Leo,’ said Fortuny.

‘Ah yes,’ said Holmes. ‘I can see it.’

‘Holmes, should we not all repair to some safer location?’ I said. ‘The police—’

‘I will not hide from the police. I am innocent!’ cried Vitale.

‘Innocent of what, Leo?’ asked Fortuny.

‘How precisely did you arrive in the Cavendish Laboratory, Madame?’ asked Holmes, his eyes fixed on the glamorous illusionist.

‘You must remember, Mr Holmes, I mentioned to you my friendship with a professor. I was speaking then of Cosimo.’ She took his arm. ‘He came to see our act in Birmingham, two weeks before London. After, he invites me to dinner, and—’ She smiled and took the handsome young scientist’s arm in hers. Cosimo Fortuny seemed to grow taller before our eyes as he beamed with pleasure.

It became clearer. More than a friendship, then. Cosimo Fortuny was Madame’s next ‘project’, as Holmes had predicted. Though perhaps here was the last place one would expect to find him. For a brief moment I will admit that this new mystery distracted me – distracted us all – from our dire circumstance.

‘Dinner with Mr Fortuny in Birmingham? I take it your husband was otherwise occupied,’ said Holmes.

‘The soprano,’ said Madame. ‘Remember? Touring there as well.’

‘I see.’ Holmes turned to Fortuny with one eyebrow raised. ‘Yet this is a rather fortuitious leap from your work, Mr Fortuny to what I see here. Unless …’ A look of further understanding passed over his sharp features, and he closed his eyes, threw his head back and laughed.

‘Of course! Madame Borelli! The