The Wall Lake Mystery

Chapter 20: Guns and Gossip

When I arrived once again at the inn, Holmes had resumed and completed his work with the burned paper and was seated in the armchair by the fire, sitting such that his knees were tucked under his chin. He glanced at me, dejection written all over his sharp features.

"Have you gained anything from these tests?" I inquired, though his expression told me it had not gone well.

Holmes gave a humourless laugh. "No method of which I am yet aware can restore burned paper. If only Mrs. Hudson had allowed me to finish this experiment months ago at Baker Street, I would not have squandered time on it now."

With my friend in this state of mind, I dearly hoped my news would improve his mood rather than worsen it.

I pulled the other chair closer to the hearth, so I was seated across from him. "I did learn something curious from Pattison, the post office woman."

Holmes, who had been staring moodily out of the window, looked up at me. "Yes?"

It seemed prudent to begin with the bad news. "In exchange, I told her about the baritsu theory of Hieman's incapacitation and murder," I said.

"Yes, yes," Holmes waved his hand. "It's of little importance and would have spread through the usual channels of gossip swiftly enough either way."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "In return, she told me something curious about Miss Hallstrom."

"Indeed?" Holmes gestured for me to continue.

"She is, in private, frequently visiting a friend with whom she has been on poor terms for quite some time."

Holmes waved his hand dismissively. "Young women often have such tumultuousness in their lives."

"That is what I thought at first as well," said I, "but have you ever heard of a young lady calling upon a friend for a matter of less than an hour, when it is over an hour round trip to get there? And never engaging in any social events together, only meeting in private?"

"Perhaps one or the other has become more reserved with age," said Holmes with impatience.

"That is not the impression I got from Mrs. Pattison," I replied, though I could not disagree with Holmes' assessment.

Holmes sighed. "Well, either way, it would seem to be the only lead we can act upon at the moment." He gestured in disgust to the burned papers. "While they give strong impressions, I cannot prove anything except that a J.C.W. was in communication with Albright before his death, especially as I am unable to decipher any more than that which you wrote in your notes."

I frowned. "You referenced my notes?" I checked my pocket, and my notebook was indeed gone from it.

Holmes closed his eyes and gestured to the nearby table where sure enough, my notebook rested. "It was unhelpful."

I retrieved it from the table and sat back down. "Pattison didn't know of any J.C.W.'s around here, unfortunately."

"No matter," replied Holmes. "They may not even be our culprit's real initials."

"What of the gun Albright sold?" I asked. "Can we prove nothing from that?"

Holmes shook his head. "I inquired at the gunsmith's shop, but it was rebuilt last year, having burned to the ground and all previous records lost."

"So we have no way of definitively proving that the revolver used to kill Albright was not his own." I sighed. "This case is turning into rather a knotty problem."

Holmes shrugged. "That lead was a shot in the dark. There would always be a chance he purchased a firearm far enough away we would not be able to track down record of the sale."