The Wall Lake Mystery

Chapter 38: Searching High and Low

When the train arrived at Wall Lake, we set off immediately for the Hieman's. Mrs. Hieman greeted us warmly enough, though the way the corners of her mouth turned down every time Holmes spoke made me suspect she had heard of his morning spent in jail.

"By all means, look around," said she. "I'll warn you, though, we've cleaned fairly well, and nothing has turned up."

"Nevertheless," Holmes replied, "we shall look again."

"You came at an opportune enough time," she said. "The children are visiting cousins and won't be underfoot."

"Excellent," replied Holmes. "Is there anything to which your son would have had access that has since been moved out or given away?"

"Most of his clothes I kept for the younger ones to grow into, except for his shoes. He had enormous feet and I highly doubt any of the others will grow into them, and on top of that, I tend to give them new shoes at Christmas anyhow. So I gave them to Fr. Albright with a few shirts and pants and belts for folks that need them more than we do."

Holmes nodded. "Can you think of anything else?"

She frowned and shook her head. "It's not been overly long, I know I ought to remember, but those aren't the memories that have stuck with me."

"I understand," Holmes replied.

I spoke up. "Your son was quite close to Ernest Anderson and the Kelly boys, I understand. Is it possible you gave anything to them?"

Her eyes lit up. "Yes, of course I did! Hugh had purchased a fine leather pocketbook to give Ernie for his birthday, a couple weeks ago now, and he had a couple jars of pretty rocks he intended to give to the Kelly's. I delivered both a few weeks ago." Then her eyes grew distant and for a moment, I thought she might cry. "Everything else, I haven't been able to part with."

"Thank you so very much," I said. It appeared Holmes was too engrossed in the kitchen floor boards to reply. "I believe we shall look around for a while and if we don't find anything, we'll talk to Fr. Albright, young Anderson, and the Kelly's to see what we learn."

Mrs. Hieman nodded mutely. She had turned a rather pale grey.

"Perhaps you should sit down a minute," said I, gently taking her arm and guiding her to a chair in the parlour. She sat down and I saw that her hands were shaking. "I can get you a bit of brandy, if you'd like."

She nodded. "That would be good, thank you."

I had seen the bottle in the kitchen adjacent, and it did not take long to find a glass. In a minute or less, I returned to the unfortunate woman's side and handed it to her.

"I don't understand why this happened," she said, taking a gulp of the drink.

"From what Holmes and I have discerned," I replied gently, "he was doing everything he could to keep those scoundrels from making off with stolen jewellery. But they found him out."

She shook her head violently. "That woman's jewellery is worth far less than my son's life."

"I know," I replied. "I am very sorry for your loss and I truly wish there was something Holmes or I could do to change what happened."

She nodded, lips pressed together firmly. A tear rolled down one cheek. I wished I could take this tragedy from her, but trapping Crowe and proving him as the second criminal was the only thing Holmes or I could do.

"Thank you," said Mrs. Hieman thickly.

"I do not deserve your thanks," I replied. "We have done little enough for you."

"You have done all you can do," she replied. "I can ask no more."

After a few hours, Holmes was satisfied that the remaining jewels were not in the Hieman house. We agreed to divide the next tasks between us, Holmes to Anderson and the Kelly's and I to Fr. Albright. After a quick late lunch at the inn, he headed for the edge of town and I for the house next to the Catholic church. I knocked at the door.

"Doctor Watson!" Fr. Albright greeted me with surprise. "What brings you here?" he asked as he let me inside.

It was a humble little place, tidy but not pristine, with knick-knacks and faded photographs and drawings adorning every wall and shelf, many depicting Jesus or the saints, but a few others were of people and places I did not recognise.

"I learned that Mrs. Hieman donated some of her late son's clothing and I was wondering if I might have a look at it."

"Certainly," the priest replied and led me through the parlour to a little closet half full of various used clothing. "I may not remember for sure which things were his, but I'll do my best." He began to look through the inventory while I watched and waited.

"By the way, Doctor," said Albright. "I don't mean to be a gossip, but is it true Mr. Holmes was arrested this morning?" He looked up from the pair of denim trousers in his hands and quirked a bushy ginger brow at me.

"I'm afraid so," I replied. "It was a misunderstanding, of course, but the Sheriff insisted I pay the bail. I scraped enough together, but only just."

"Best hope you can prove Mr. Holmes innocent before you get the innkeeper's bill," said Albright with a dark laugh.

"I quite agree," I replied, thinking of Miss Lena Hallstrom and her education money.

"Ah, here we are," said Albright at length, laying out three pairs of trousers, two pairs of shoes, and two shirts. Though I examined every inch of cotton, denim, and leather, they were only clothes and I could find no trace of a clue.

"Keep these separate, for now," I said. "I've found nothing, but I shall bring Holmes to look them over as soon as he is able, should it prove necessary."

"Certainly," replied Fr. Albright. "Good luck to you, Doctor." He ushered me to the door. "And keep Mr. Holmes out of trouble, eh?"

I chuckled. "That can be a tall order, but I do my best."