“Very good, Watson, very good!” Holmes exclaimed as I finished recounting my interview with Ms. Stone, “You have given me one of the last puzzle needed to bring this case to a close. I have already met with the young Ms. Elizabeth Stone.”
My eyes widened, “You couldn’t have gone to the countryside and back in such short hours!”
Holmes chuckled good-naturedly, “Of course not, my dear friend, I bumped into her accidentally actually; right in front of Whites to be exact.”
“Whites, you say?” I exclaimed, “What were you doing there? And what was the lady doing there?”
“Investigating, Watson,” He began pacing the floor before my desk, “I was at White’s trying to get witnesses who might have seen Mr. Adam Stone on the night of his murder. Unfortunately, I found no one, but I did learn from some of the regulars that Mr. Stone was not admitted into the gaming hall. They told me that he was known for his game of cards, so wretched was his skill that he lost everyone, and soon his bills began piling. You corroborated this in your report. And so, not having the reputation of being entirely respectable, he had never stepped foot into the gaming hall.”
“And his sister?” I asked.
“She was taking a stroll with a friend,” Holmes said.
“Wait a moment—“I said perplexed, “So she is still in town then? How is it that you knew it was she?”
“She and her friend were just passing along when I happened to caught a few words of their conversation. Her friend had exclaimed ‘Elizabeth Stone, you dare lie to me?’”
“Casually, I tapped the lady upon her shoulder and feigned acquaintance with her dead brother. Unfortunately I was the first to give her the news of her brother’s murder.” Holmes shook his head with sympathy, “I was able to wrestle some intriguing information from her.”
“She informed me that her mother had left early the morning of Mr. Stone’s death and had returned an hour later. The pistol they owned had been missing during her mother’s absence, but had reappeared in their cupboard later on that afternoon.”
“You couldn’t possibly mean—“
“I’m not yet certain,” Holmes said, cutting off my shout, “but the last puzzle piece is held in the hands of the Earl of Langford.”
Part Seven