The Wall Lake Mystery

Chapter 23: Closing In

Finding the house of this Mr. Martin was not a difficult task, and in a matter of minutes, we found ourselves outside of a little house on the very edge of town. Holmes gave several loud raps on the door and after a lengthy pause, it opened and a gruff voice—accompanied by a stocky white-haired gentleman bearing a shotgun—greeted us with: "Who the hell are yeh?"

Holmes introduced us and our errand.

"Poor Hieman," said the man. "Name's Martin. Come on in out of the cold." He shuffled inside, set the shotgun in a corner and lit the lamp on the wall. The room brightened, and I realised it was a small and messy kitchen and smelled more strongly of tobacco than my lungs could long endure. Soon we three were seated at Martin's kitchen table, and Holmes spoke.

"On the night of January 8th, you took the last evening train to Sac City. Is that correct?"

"Sounds about right," Martin replied with a frown.

"Did you notice two gentlemen exit the train and go in the same direction as you? Both were shorter than average and would have been on the train before you boarded it."

"Good Lord, man! You talk like you were there," said the old man, eyebrows raised.

"On the contrary, Mr. Martin, I was only a few minutes ago speaking to one of the railroad employees who was also on the train that night."

Martin nodded. "That's a mite less odd, then. Two men...let me see... You know, I do think I recall seeing two strangers walking this way one night, could've been that one, but I can't swear to it for sure."

"Regardless," said Holmes, "did you see where they went?"

Martin frowned. "I don't see too well anymore, but I think they headed out of town. Only shelter that way is the tiny house Mrs. Lewis had built before she died. It's empty at the moment, while her kids decide what to do with it. Since I don't see any of my neighbours as the sort to keep a couple strangers around without telling anybody, I'd bet a buck that's where they went."

I pulled out my notebook and noted this and the following as well I could in the dim light.

"How far from town is it?"

"Fifty yards or so due west," Martin replied. "It's over a hill, though, so I can only see its roof during the day and nothing of it at night."

"Have you seen either of these men since?"

Martin shrugged. "Might've seen the one a couple nights ago. Can't say for certain."

"You have been most helpful, Mr. Martin."

"Don't mention it," replied the old man, waving off Holmes' words. "But I do have one question for ya. Are those men I saw the ones who killed Deputy Hieman?"

"I have reason to suspect that they are," said Holmes, "but I advise you to say nothing about any of this. If you see a man or two arrested tonight—and I hope that you do—then you will know what has occurred and why."

"You're going to the Sheriff from here?" he asked.

Holmes nodded.

"It's late enough he'll be home, I'd wager. Corner of 5th and Main, the little house painted blue. If he gives you any trouble, tell him Old Martin will back you up, every word. I'd come with you gentlemen myself, but I'm afraid I'm in no fit state for that sort of thing these days. But if you ever need anything more, just ask."

"Very kind of you," said Holmes. "We had better be on our way; it is after dark now."

And soon it will be well after dinner, I thought, though I said nothing.