The Case of the Covington Heiress
Part Three
by Pam
tmegrdian@yahoo.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When control of your own body is robbed by poison, the world seems
to float around you, ignorant of your plight.
Fortunatly though, I had managed to stumble to the front door to
get it open.
Salvation greeted me in the form of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson,
who had come at the urgent request of my friend Travis.
I was unable to properly greet them, as a wave of diziness and naeusa
caused me to collapse into Dr. Watson's arms.
~*~
"Miss Covington! Miss Covington, can you hear me?"
Opening my eyes, I detected a blur of movement around me.
Dr. Watson was trying to hold me upright, but with little success.
My body felt like a limp noodle, and no matter what I did, I could
not stand upright. My chest burned as I struggled to breathe.
Dr.Watson regarded me with a very serious expression. He stared into
my eyes for a few moments then called to Travis. " I need help here."
Travis' face then filled my vision as he lifted me up into his strong
arms and proceeded towards the stairs, as I heard a muttered curse come
from Sherlock Holmes.
"Curse it all! The poisoner has gotten to her. Travis, quickly, take
Miss Covington to her room. Watson, stay with her. The atropine should
not have taken hold..."
I silently cursed my foolishness as I let the darkness claim me.
~*~
Voices later drifted into my thoughts.
I heard Travis talking to Mr. Holmes, weariness and agitation evident
in his voice.
"Mr. Holmes...we can't let the dirty murderer get away from this. Will
she be all right?"
Holmes voice was pensive as he replied. "Time will tell, travis. Time
will tell..."
Dr. Watson's voice chimed in.
"We will know soon enough if we were in time."
I soon felt the sharp prick of a needle, and I drifted off into the
blackness of sleep once more.
~*~
Days blurred by as I was awakened with injections and the occasional
foul concoction that was forced down my throat.
But my nights were spent in delirium as my body was trying to fight
the posion.
Visions of my family swam through my mind, all of them laughing at
me.
All except father.
His face floated above me, his expression was full of worry.
~You almost bit the big one...~
My thoughts were incredulous.
~almost??~
He then smiled.
~Dr. Watson has done it. The poison is out of your system. You will
recover.~
My mind was still full of questions.
~But who tried to kill me?~
His eyes lowered in reply.
~Trust in your allies. They will point the way...~
~*~
One morning, I opened my eyes, and the room came into focus immediatly.
For the first time in many days, my head didn't feel like it was about to
explode, and my breathing had gone back to normal. Light streamed in through
the nearby window, illuminating the nearby corner where Travis sat in a
chair. His head was back, and from the gentle snores eminating from that
direction, I surmised that he had been sleeping there for most of the night.
I groaned, manuvering myself into a sitting position on the bed. My throat
felt as dry as paper, but I was completly alert. "I feel like I have been
sleeping for a year."
"Actually, it was only a fortnight."
Startled at the voice, I turned around to find Sherlock Holmes sitting in
a chair on the opposite side of my bed.
He stood up, and went over to Travis, gently rousing him. "Please get some
food for Miss Covington, I am sure she is famished."
Travis looked over at me with a look of relief on his face, then quickly
left the room.
I turned to Holmes, and managed to croak out, "So, I have not shoved off
the mortal plane quite yet."
"Yes, thanks to some fortuitous planning by Dr. Watson, and Travis' visit
to Baker Street, we were able to get here in time. You were very fortunate,
Miss Covington. Had we been but an hour later, we would now be mourning your
death. As it stands, Dr. Watson's treatments have completly flushed the posion
from your body. We were just waiting for you to awaken, " he replied.
"Ah yes," I said with a guilty glance, "there is that. I do suppose I made
the poisoner angry, but at least the person didn't succeed."
That was the worst possible thing I could have said.
He scowled at me and snapped, "I should have you locked up for your own good.
You were willing to defy my orders and become bait for a posioner. You have
also scared the wits out of your young friend Travis, who seems to be quite
enamoured with you. What do you have to say for yourself?"
I stared at him, speechless at his outburst.
Rarely I had seen anybody angry other than my brother Arthur. I finally
mustered a quiet reply. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing."
Sherlock Holmes stared at me for many moments, until he heard a knock on my
door. He went over to open the door, letting Travis in. "Despite your
impetuous attitude, I have been able to gather clues about whats going on,
but I see your food is here. No more talk about the case for now, you must
eat."
He quickly slipped out the door, as Travis set a tray of food before me.
My stomach growled in appreciation as I eyed the soup and the bread that
were on the tray. I wanted to dig in, but found myself shaky after my
bout with the poison. I could not even hold the spoon steady. Travis
came to my rescue, assisting me until I had consumed half the bowl.
A few moments later, he reached for the tray. "I'll just take this out of
your way."
"Wait!" I implored, "What has been happening? Has Sherlock Holmes been
here long? Where's -"
"Not another word out of you," Travis warned, " Doctors orders. You are
to rest some more."
I groaned, dropping back down on my pillow, "Rest? But-"
"But nothing," he firmly insisted, as he adjusted the covers over me.
"Amanda, we have known each other for a long time, so understand when I
tell you, back off. You almost died, if it werent for Dr. Watson.
Besides, Sherlock Holmes brought a contigent of police into the place
and made a search of it and the greenhouse on the day you were poisoned."
My eyes went wide as he told me the news, " He did? What did they find?"
"No, that's enough excitement for one day. Get some rest," Travis warned.
He lifted my hand, giving it a gentle kiss, then took the tray and left
my room.
My curiousity and anger were burning. The arrogance of that man! Still,
I found my eyelids slowly drooping. The slight burst of energy that had
driven me for those few minutes had finally faded, and my body
was screaming for sleep.
I slid down under the covers, my mind a whirl. I kept wondering what
Sherlock Holmes found in his search. did he find the pack of love letters
in my sisters room? Did he find that gardening book and gloves in my
mothers room?
My mind finally started to drift, and soon I fell into an uneasy sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I had slept for about another day until Dr. Watson roused me. I rose
to a sitting position on the bed as he checked my throat and felt my pulse.
Dr. Watson's face broke into a smile. "Splendid. You seem to have fully
recovered. How do you feel?"
"I feel my strength returning. And there is no more burning in my throat,"
I replied as I strecthed and flexed my dormant limbs.
"Excellent... If you feel up to it today then, you can get out of bed. I
know you have been looking foward to getting out of this room."
He stood up and was preparing to leave, "Well then, I best be on my way..."
"Wait, please," I pleaded. I had taken my rest as instructed, but I was
not about to let my curiousity go unanswered again. "Travis told me that
Sherlock Holmes and a contingent of police were here searching the place.
Were you there? What did they find? What happened?"
He chuckled, then sat down in a chair beside me. "Well, I suppose that
it wouldn't do any harm in telling you. Don't want your curiousity to get
the better of you again."
It was then he told me of those events of that fateful evening:
"Travis had brought you up here to your room, and I examined you for signs
of poisioning, as Holmes instructed. Ever since the test results on that
powder came back positive for atropine, Holmes instructed me to be at the
ready at any time to treat Atropine posioning.
I began treamtment on you as he sent young Travis to bring back the
local police force.
About an hour later, Travis came back with about 5 constables, and I had him
sit with you while I checked up on Holmes efforts.
I found that I didn't have to go far.
Holmes was in your mother's room, carefully thumbing through a gardening
book he had found on a nearby end table.
He beckoned me over to him. 'Watson,' he said, 'take a look at this entry
and tell me what you see.'
He handed me the thick leather covered book, and I read the entry that he
had pointed out about the belladonna plant.
'Holmes, if the mother had this type of information-'
Holmes finished my thought quickly. '-that does not mean that she did it,
Watson.'
I protested. 'But Holmes, the information is here in black and white.'
'Ahh, but then there are the gloves.' Holmes handed me a pair of what
looked like gardening gloves. 'Notice anything strange about them, Watson?'
I turned them over in my hands pondering them intently. 'They are a little
big for a woman's hands, but serviceable gloves for the outdoors.'
'You haven't truly looked at those gloves then,' he chided me, 'take a
look at them again and see if you see anything missing.'
'Missing?' At his request, I took a look at them once more. They were beige
in color with a fringe of light blue trim. 'Other than the fact that they
look clean, I still do not see what you are driving at.'
'They ARE clean. Strange isn't it?. I was downstairs when Mrs. Covington
was being questioned a few moments ago. She told the constable that she had
been in the greenhouse a better part of the afternoon, and yet the gloves do
not show a speck of dirt or any stains on the outside. But they were worn.
The fibers on the insides of the glove are flattened and slightly stained
with perspiration.'
Frustration knawed at me as I was trying to understand his logic. 'I don't
see what you are driving at. So her gloves are not dirty. Maybe they have
been laundered?'
He smiled and pointed at a small blue mark at the base of the gloves. 'The
manufacturers mark is still intact. But then, there are also curious things
to be found on the manor grounds as well.'
He laid both items on the bed. We quickly strolled out of the room, and soon
we were on the outside lawn at the back of the house. Holmes examined a small
cluster of bushes and flowers at one end of the lawn. He examined each of the
bushes in turn, until he fingered the leaves of one particular plant. He
gestured me closer.
'Observe, Watson...a small cluster of Atropa Belladonna, more commonly
known as Nightshade. Freshly clipped back I might add.'
I fingered the waxy leaves and noted the dark black berries. Sure enough,
this was indeed the Atropa Belladonna. I also noted what Holmes pointed
out: many of the leaves were clipped from the plant.
'It is true that Atropine comes from the leaves of the Belladonna plant,
Holmes, but how could it have been processed?" I asked.
'That leads us to the greenhouse,' my friend replied, taking off in that
direction. I quickly followed him there, where we entered the greenhouse.
We found our way through the numerous plants and to the rear of the
greenhouse, where the work area was set up to pot some of the smaller
plants. Holmes carefully perused the work area, and then the cabinet
full of chemicals, until he made a discovery.
He reached behind the chemicals and brought out a mortar and pestle.
'It is rare to see a mortar and pestle in a green house is it not? Travis
told me that he buys any chemicals needed for the greenhouse. So what would
be mixed here?'
I looked into the mortar and noticed green stains and a remnant of
what looked to be white powder. 'The belladonna clippings. I see where you
are leading with this. but who--'
He held up a hand in reply. 'I do not have all the information as of yet,
Watson. I am still checking on the other family members and their backgrounds.
Unfortunatly, Miss Covington's little stunt has cost us precious time. Unless
we move quickly, the murderer will elude capture and gain her father's wealth.'
He replaced the equipment back to its hiding place, then we came back inside.
The next morning, Holmes prepared to leave.
Putting on his top hat and overcoat, he turned to me, placing a hand on my
shoudler. 'Watson, I must ask you to keep an eye on our Miss Covington, and
ensure her survival.'
'You know that I am always at your service Holmes, of course. What are you
going to do in the meanwhile?' I asked in reply.
'There are one or two leads I wish to follow, which will require me to make
inquiries. Take care of our client and I shall be back in a few days, and
whatever you do, keep Miss Covington's condition from the rest of the family.'
With assurances that all was in good hands, Holmes took his leave.
Many days passed. I continued treating you, while keeping your state of
health as secret as I could, which was quite a chore. Your family tried
everything in their power to weasel it out of me. Travis luckily stayed
close at hand during the whole ordeal.
It was yesterday morning when Holmes finally returned.
He put his things in the hallway, and found me up here treating you.
I filled him in on your condition, then he proceded to tell me his
findings.
'Watson, I have been researching the Covington family line. There are
many tangled roots to this family tree. Bungled investments, philandering
spouses, and that is just the tip of the iceberg.'
'Seems like the whole family had a motive, Holmes,' I replied.
He looked amused at my generalization. 'Well then tell me Watson, who do
you think posioned our Miss Covington?'
'Arthur has my vote,' I told him, 'he would rather see the money than
care whether his sister is alive or not.'
Holmes waved away the notion, 'Bah...Arthur is all talk but no show. He
is a mindless beaurucrat whose heart is in it for the money. Still, I
checked into his finances at the bank. He is quite well off, though
quite a few of his 'investors' are looking to string him up.
'Well then, do you know who did the deed?' I challenged.
He went over to the window and had stared out at the greenhouse for quite
a few moments before he replied. 'Hmm...I believe I know who poisioned
Mr. Covington, and who tried to do Miss Covington harm. However, I would
like to make one or two more inquiries here before I reveal my suspicions.'"
~*~
Dr. Watson rose from his chair. "And that brings us to the present time.
Holmes has been busy around here, double checking things and searching the
rooms once more. I must say though, your family was not too happy about it,
but they did not make any move to stop him."
He smiled at me once more and went to the door. "I shall leave you now."
As soon as he left the room, I threw back my bedsheets and placed my feet
on the floor.
He was right about one thing. I was ready to get out of this blasted bed.
~*~
I had bathed and had just finished dressing, when a knock came at my
door.
Opening it, I saw that Sherlock Holmes stood there, a serious look on his
face.
"Excellent, I see you are up and about. I came to ask you to be my guest at
a dinner party downsairs this evening. It is being held to celebrate your
survival of the poision. Your whole family will be there as well as members
of the police force."
Realizing what he had said, I looked up at him in amazement. "You mean you
have solved it then?"
He smiled warmly, "I have a good idea who did it, but tonight's events
should bring things into proper focus. Dinner will be at six o' clock
sharp. Do not keep your guests waiting."
And with that, Sherlock Holmes spun on his heels and walked out of my room.
So, things have come to a head, I thought. A member of my own family killed
my father and then tried to kill me.
Tonights events should be interesting indeed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The final confrontation begins next chapter.
http://www.ces.ncsu.edu/depts/hort/consumer/poison/Atropbe.htm
http://www.valentine.gr/belladonna_en.htm
http://www.botanical.com/botanical/steapois/atr09.html
(
geocities.com/gumshoeinc)