“There are objections to the joke theory, no doubt,” said he, “butthere are much stronger reasons against the other. We know thatthis woman has led a most quiet and respectable life at Penge andhere for the last twenty years. She has hardly been away from herhome for a day during that time. Why on earth, then, should anycriminal send her the proofs of his guilt, especially as, unless she isa most consummate actress, she understands quite as little of thematter as we do?”
“That is the problem which we have to solve,” Holmesanswered, “and for my part I shall set about it by presumingthat my reasoning is correct, and that a double murder has beencommitted. One of these ears is a woman’s, small, finely formed,and pierced for an earring. The other is a man’s, sun-burned,discoloured, and also pierced for an earring. These two people arepresumably dead, or we should have heard their story before now.
To-day is Friday. The packet was posted on Thursday morning.
The tragedy, then, occurred on Wednesday or Tuesday, or earlier.
If the two people were murdered, who but their murderer wouldhave sent this sign of his work to Miss Cushing? We may takeit that the sender of the packet is the man whom we want. Buthe must have some strong reason for sending Miss Cushing thispacket. What reason then? It must have been to tell her that thedeed was done! or to pain her, perhaps. But in that case she knowswho it is. Does she know? I doubt it. If she knew, why shouldshe call the police in? She might have buried the ears, and no onewould have been the wiser. That is what she would have done ifshe had wished to shield the criminal. But if she does not wish toshield him she would give his name. There is a tangle here whichneeds straightening out.” He had been talking in a high, quickvoice, staring blankly up over the garden fence, but now he sprangbriskly to his feet and walked towards the house.
“I have a few questions to ask Miss Cushing,” said he.
“In that case I may leave you here,” said Lestrade, “for I haveanother small business on hand. I think that I have nothingfurther to learn from Miss Cushing. You will find me at the policestation.”
“We shall look in on our way to the train,” answered Holmes.
A moment later he and I were back in the front room, where theimpassive lady was still quietly working away at her antimacassar.
She put it down on her lap as we entered and looked at us with herfrank, searching blue eyes.
“I am convinced, sir,” she said, “that this matter is a mistake,and that the parcel was never meant for me at all. I have said thisseveral times to the gentlemen from Scotland Yard, but he simplylaughs at me. I have not an enemy in the world, as far as I know, sowhy should anyone play me such a trick?”
“I am coming to be of the same opinion, Miss Cushing,” saidHolmes, taking a seat beside her. “I think that it is more thanprobable—” He paused, and I was surprised, on glancing roundto see that he was staring with singular intentness at the lady’sprofile. Surprise and satisfaction were both for an instant to beread upon his eager face, though when she glanced round to findout the cause of his silence he had become as demure as ever. Istared hard myself at her flat, grizzled hair, her trim cap, her littlegilt earrings, her placid features; but I could see nothing whichcould account for my companion’s evident excitement.
“There were one or two questions——”
“Oh, I am weary of questions!” cried Miss Cushing impatiently.
“You have two sisters, I believe.”
“How could you know that?”
“I observed the very instant that I entered the room that youhave a portrait group of three ladies upon the mantelpiece, one ofwhom is undoubtedly yourself, while the others are so exceedinglylike you that there could be no doubt of the relationship.”
“Yes, you are quite right. Those are my sisters, Sarah and Mary.”
“And here at my elbow is another portrait, taken at Liverpool,of your younger sister, in the company of a man who appears to bea steward by his uniform. I observe that she was unmarried at thetime.”
“You are very quick at observing.”
“That is my trade.”
“Well, you are quite right. But she was married to Mr. Brownera few days afterwards. He was on the South American line whenthat was taken, but he was so fond of her that he couldn’t abide toleave her for so long, and he got into the Liverpool and Londonboats.”
“Ah, the Conqueror, perhaps?”
“No, the May Day, when last I heard. Jim came down here tosee me once. That was before he broke the pledge; but afterwardshe would always take drink when he was ashore, and a little drinkwould send him stark, staring mad. Ah! it was a bad day that everhe took a glass in his hand again. First he dropped me, then hequarrelled with Sarah, and now that Mary has stopped writing wedon’t know how things are going with them.”
It was evident that Miss Cushing had come upon a subject onwhich she felt very deeply. Like most people who lead a lonelylife, she was shy at first, but ended by becoming extremelycommunicative. She told us many details about her brother-in-lawthe steward, and then wandering off on the subject of her formerlodgers, the medical students, she gave us a long account of theirdelinquencies, with their names and those of their hospitals.
Holmes listened attentively to everything, throwing in a questionfrom time to time.
“About your second sister, Sarah,” said he. “I wonder, since youare both maiden ladies, that you do not keep house together.”
“Ah! you don’t know Sarah’s temper or you would wonder nomore. I tried it when I came to Croydon, and we kept on untilabout two months ago, when we had to part. I don’t want to say aword against my own sister, but she was always meddlesome andhard to please, was Sarah.”
“You say that she quarrelled with your Liverpool relations.”
