Free The Midwinter Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes: Three Adventures & The Grand Gift of Sherlock by Craig Janacek

almost two decades. She was the young lady who was accused by Mrs. Molyneux of stealing from the Marylebone Crippled Children’s Fund. Reverend Arden supported this denunciation, and she was cast out of the community and threatened with arrest. I imagine she felt a great despair, and at what should have been the happiest time of year, the very eve of Christmas, she took her own life by jumping from Waterloo Bridge [217] into the frozen Thames.”
    I gasped in horror. “That is terrible, Holmes!”
    “Indeed,” he nodded grimly. “Over the years, the good folk at Marylebone Chapel began to wonder if she had been falsely accused.”
    “Of course she was falsely accused by that foul harridan!” Vaughan exclaimed. “Miriam’s great joy was administering that fund and seeing it put to good use. She was the one who discovered the theft, which was carried out by none other than Berenice Molyneux. However, before Miriam could report it, Berenice made it appear that Miriam had stolen the funds herself. It probably would not have been sufficient to convince the police, if it had not been for the Reverend, who verbally attacked Miriam with bitter venom. To this day, I wonder if he knew that Berenice was guilty, or if his lust simply blinded him. But in either case, he was as guilty as her for causing Miriam’s death.”
    “And your relation to Miss Pearl?” Holmes asked, almost gently.
    “She was my fiancée.” Across the parlor, Dr. Lowe startled again at this revelation. “It was a secret, as my family did not approve of her,” Vaughan continued. “But I loved her with all of my heart and we planned to wed that spring. Until she was ripped from me by the actions of two evil people, who have now met their deserved fate.”
    “But why did you not tell the police?” I asked.
    He shook his head sadly. “I had no proof. It was Miriam’s word against theirs, and she was dead. But her word was true.”
    “So you were powerless to act, until you recently became sick,” said Holmes. “It then became critical to you that Miriam not die unavenged. And when your familiarity with China, learned from your connections in the jade import business, taught you that a sufficient dose of arsenic could either kill you or cure you, you decided to make certain that if you died, it would not be alone. First you dismissed your old maid, so that there would be no chance that she could be suspected in the case. Then, you invited your greatest enemies to sit down at the table with you, and pay them back for a wrong they committed nearly twenty years ago. Learning the required dose in the now-burned note, you poured the poison into the ewer while their heads were bowed in prayer. You then rolled the empty bottle away from you so that it would not be found on your body, in case your gamble paid off and you actually lived.”
    Vaughan nodded grimly. “I see that you understand what I have done and why it was necessary.”
    “But Dr. Lowe had no role in the death of Miss Pearl,” I protested. “He may have drunk the poisoned wassail.”
    “That is not true, Dr. Watson,” said Lowe, suddenly. “I too share a measure of blame for poor Miriam.”
    “She was your relative?” asked Holmes.
    “My cousin,” said he, hoarsely. “But when she left the faith and converted to the Church of England we cast her out. Thus, we were not there for her in her moment of greatest need. It is a terrible shame that I have borne for twenty years.”
    “Vaughan blamed your entire family as an accessory, and you were its representative,” said Holmes. “Your crime was that of omission, rather than commission, so he spared you the fatal blow of the poison by arranging for the timely delivery of the note that called you from the house. But if Vaughan died, the blame for the poisoning would likely fall upon you. Even if you were set free from lack of motive, you would receive at least some mental punishment for Miriam’s death.”
    Lowe rose unsteadily to