The Wall Lake Mystery

Chapter 46: Epilogue

Sheriff Sweet unlocked a small safe in the corner and pulled out a parcel. "Mrs. Blomberg's jewels are all in here. I thought you two might want to be the ones to return them."

"Excellent," said Holmes, taking the package. "We shall do so yet this morning." He paused and eyed the Sheriff curiously. "Des Moines would not have you keep them for evidence?"

"Just the diamond necklace," he said. "That ought to be enough to satisfy them."

Holmes nodded.

"How is your arm today?" I asked the Sheriff.

He shrugged. "I took a beating last night, but I expect things will be quiet enough around here long enough for me to heal up. One last thing," he said, reaching into the safe again and pulling out an envelope. He handed it to me. "I believe this is yours."

I opened it and thumbed through the seven hundred dollars. "More or less," I replied. "I intend to return what I borrowed from the kind people in this region."

Sheriff Sweet nodded. "Well, it's been an honour, gentlemen. Save travels."

"Thank you," I said, and Holmes nodded.

Holmes and I had only a few remaining errands. We returned Miss Lena Hallstrom's money with sincere thanks and wished her luck with her plans to become a schoolteacher. The Blomberg home was our next stop, so we took the train back to Wall Lake and made our way there. Mr. Blomberg was home over the noon hour, so we were able to return the jewellery and tell the tale to both of them. They were glad to hear so much of it had been recovered, especially the heirloom necklace, and after shedding a tear or two in sheer relief, Mrs. Blomberg apologised for not being forthright with us at the beginning.

"I should have told you," she said, "but my sister Alice, the unmarried one, is pregnant. I did not want people to know, the scandal of it, but a gentleman friend of hers has agreed to marry her now, so it's all right in the end." She frowned. "I apologise if I led you down the wrong path by not simply telling you what we spoke of at dinner that night."

"All is well in the end," replied Holmes with a flash of a smile.

We figured our travel and living expenses so far, and what we expected the return trip to be, and the Blombergs happily paid that much along with Holmes' standard fee. It was a goodly sum.

We visited Anderson next. He thanked us repeatedly, with bright eyes and thick voice, and Holmes quietly declined payment. Mrs. Hieman was our next visit, and she was quickly reduced to tears, though it was clear she valued the closure we had brought to her and her family. We dropped by Lawler's home a final time, where he threw back the coffee-stained sheet and showed us his corn-picking contraption. It was a strange-looking metal thing, with a confusing assortment of chains and hooks and bars supported by large wheels. I could make neither heads nor tails of it, but Lawler and Holmes both agreed it was the future of farming, and Holmes insisted that he write to us once he had it patented.

I was truly sorry when it was time to leave, but I was looking forward to sitting in my own chair and sleeping in my own bed. After a late lunch, we packed our things, paid the innkeeper, and took an afternoon train north to Chicago, before retracing our steps to the coast and boarding a ship back across the ocean.

————

So it was that just one month after we departed from Wall Lake, Holmes and I found ourselves back at Baker Street, reading a letter from Sheriff Sweet over breakfast.

"How did everything shake out?" I asked.

Holmes snorted. "Watson, your vocabulary has developed a dreadfully American quality and retained it for a remarkable period. But to answer your question, young Brogden was let off with a warning, Crowe was given twenty years, and Wright will hang for it.

I gave a nod. There was a brief silence. "What do you suppose Crowe will do when he gets out?" I asked.

"With ambition like his," Holmes replied, "it's hard to say what he will put his mind to next, but I'll wager he won't be in prison for long."

I had to agree, but only time would tell.

"Tell me, Watson," said Holmes. "Have you thought of travelling?"

Before I could respond, something white flashed into my vision and smacked me on the side of the face. I looked down to see an unopened envelope laying in my lap.

"For goodness' sake, Holmes!" I said with an exasperated laugh.

"It's postmarked from a coastal town in Italy," he replied. "Warm weather, you know."

I only scowled.

"I was not aiming for your head," he added leaping to his feet and holding his arms up in a gesture of surrender.

"Don't give me that," I replied, wagging a finger at him. "Your aim is not nearly so poor." With a flick of the wrist, I returned the missive to Holmes, who ducked before it could give him the treatment it had given me. "Perhaps I would like a holiday in Italy," I said, slipping out of my chair and taking several steps backward, "though this time I'd prefer to come home in one piece, and travelling with a man who throws the post at his fellow-lodger hardly seems the way to do it!"

"Ha!" he exclaimed, and grabbing the morning paper, threw it in my direction. "Just remember, old chap, I am not the one who started this!"

Within seconds, the sitting room was a war zone, and Holmes and I were laughing like schoolboys. I hit Holmes squarely in the nose with a particularly brown envelope, and my friend gave a shout of indignation.

"Half a moment!" he cried, staring at the envelope I had thrown at him.

"What is it?" I asked, stepping carefully around the newspapers and envelopes scattered on the floor

"Look at the ink," said he.

I did, but saw nothing remarkable. "What does it tell you?"

"Everything," Holmes replied. "Best put on your coat!"

At that moment, Mrs. Hudson entered the room, and gasped when she saw the mess we had made.

"Mr. Holmes! Doctor Watson!" she cried. "What on earth have you been doing in here?"

"Sorry, Mrs. Hudson," Holmes replied, snatching up his overcoat and hat, "but we really must be off!"

"Where are we going?" I asked, putting on my coat.

"You shall find out when we get there," Holmes replied with a grin, and we slipped out of the flat before Mrs. Hudson could berate us further.

And with that, we were off on another adventure—a thrilling one, I might add—but this story, the Wall Lake Mystery, has come to a close.

The End.