Free The Web Weaver by Sam Siciliano

town.”
    My jaw dropped slightly. Michelle and I employed a woman to do the cleaning and the cooking, and it was difficult to imagine two people requiring so many servants. Of course, there would be the cook and hertwo or three helpers, a variety of maids, footmen, gardeners to care for the grounds, men to maintain the horses and carriages, and so on. I simply would not want such a mob under the same roof with Michelle and me!
    Holmes returned to his chair but did not sit. “You found the note in the morning two weeks ago. When had you last been in the library before then?”
    “The afternoon before.”
    “Would your husband or anyone else have used the library in the interval?”
    Violet’s mocking smile returned. “No. He prefers billiards or his club to books. My maid Gertrude tidied the room at about nine, but no one else would have come in here.”
    “You said you were not superstitious, Mrs. Wheelwright. Therefore one other person obviously came in here. As the room was left unattended for over twelve hours, almost anyone might have crept in and left this foul thing.” He raised the paper in emphasis. “Who do you think might have left it, Mrs. Wheelwright?”
    She drew in her breath, squaring her shoulders. “I honestly do not know. Logically, I suppose it must have been one of the servants, and yet, I know them all, and I cannot think that any of them would have done it.”
    “You know them all?”
    “Yes. I interview all the servants before they are hired, and I make it my business to know them. I want them to feel welcome in my home.”
    Holmes was genuinely astonished. He opened his mouth, then reconsidered and closed it. Finally, he said, “When was the last time you hired a new servant?”
    Violet’s brow wrinkled briefly. “I think it has been nearly two years.”
    Again Holmes could not hide his astonishment. I had heard several of my wealthier patients complain about getting and keepingdecent help. To have had no turnover in such a large staff in two years was remarkable.
    “What exactly did you do when you found the note?”
    “I showed it to Mrs. Lovejoy. She could not imagine where it came from. No, that is the wrong way to put it—she believes the note is the devil’s handiwork. And I showed it to Donald that evening when he came home.”
    “He seems to think the gypsy curse has been effective, that several of the partygoers have been struck down.”
    Violet laughed. “I know. It is so reassuring to blame our misfortunes on malevolent spirits rather than blind chance or our own failings.”
    “You do not believe that the gypsy curse had anything to do with Lord Harrington’s death?”
    She shook her head. “No. To me he always seemed a trifle... peculiar. His wife had much to bear. Age, sickness, and death always take their toll. The crowd at the ball was so large that misfortune would naturally have struck many of the participants.”
    Holmes nodded thoughtfully. “So one might think.”
    Violet raised only her right eyebrow. “You seem skeptical, Mr. Holmes.”
    “I always am, so early in a case. One must not leap to conclusions. Is there anything else you wish to tell me, Mrs. Wheelwright? No? In that case, I shall want to talk separately to Mr. and Mrs. Lovejoy.”
    “Very well, Mr. Holmes.” She stood and adjusted the skirts of her dress.
    “Thank you for your assistance, madam.”
    She gave him a glorious smile. “The pleasure was mine.”
    Holmes’ gaze lingered on her as she left the room. His guard was down, and his admiration for her was apparent. I thought of making some jest, but I knew it would anger him. And who could blame him?She was a beautiful and desirable woman. Some men might be put off by the power of her intellect, but certainly to Holmes it made her all the more appealing. Were I in his shoes, I would have cursed the divorce laws for compelling such a woman to remain with a man who was so poor a match for her.
    Holmes stood up, again walked over to the