Page 41 of A Conspiracy in Belgravia
“Indeed. Now, you said that you can’t tell memuchmore than I already know. So what do I not know yet?”
“This suit was bought at a secondhand shop—probably in an effort to conceal himself from those who did not mean him well. And not a secondhand shop in Kensington that a lady’s maid who has been given castoffs might take her wares to, but the kind you find in Seven Dials and other such districts.”
When she had been low on funds and looking for some clothes that would not appear out of place on a secretary, she had frequenteda few resale shops. The problem had been that the halfway decent garments still cost too much and the cheaper stuff looked like dishrags.
“I’ve had occasion to browse in some of the less... prestigious of these establishments. This suit has been through the resale shops a few times. Inside the left sleeve, there are five stitch marks done in brown yarn. Inside the right sleeve, three similar marks in blue yarn. Different shops use yarn of different colors to mark items that come through—it helps them track how popular an item might prove to be.
“And what makes this particular item so popular that it went through such places eight times? One would think that it could scarcely be worn eight times before the seams came apart.”
“Under certain circumstances the use of a garment does not add much to the wear and tear. The front of the suit is made of serge, not the best I’ve seen, but presentable enough and durable enough. The back, however... if it isn’t shoddy that has been ground up and rewoven, I would be very surprised.”
“A suit with only a front side presentable. Are you telling me this is funeral attire for the poor?”
“It’s what I would conclude.”
“Did our corpse rob a grave then?”
“Judging by how many times this suit has circulated, I would say no. It’s quite possible that the family of the deceased removes the suit and sells it back to the shop, to save some money. Or the grave diggers might have. In either case, I would guess that our man had no idea that he’d donned a funeral suit.”
Only to have it become prophetic.
“What else can you tell me, Miss Holmes?”
“That depends, my lord. What did you do with his pocketbook and his watch?”
“He had no wallet on his person. I do have his watch in my possession.”
The watch had been made by Messrs. Patek, Philippe, and Co. Monsieur Patek had invented the stem-winding mechanism that did away with winding keys. The company had been a well-known name ever since the queen had bought two of their watches for herself and Prince Albert at a London horological exhibition thirty-five years ago. And their dedication to quality had not waned since: If Charlotte’s memory served, their watches were awarded the special prize at a recent competition held at the Geneva Observatory.
This watch had been beautifully cared for and appeared new at first glance. Only on close study with her magnifying glass could she see the minor dents and scratches that came with the simple passage of time, inevitable for any item used on a regular basis. She opened the back, and then the cuvette, the inner lid that protected the precise and complex arrangement of gears and springs that moved the dials. Neither the back nor the cuvette bore any inscriptions.
“Our man was an orphan.”
“The watch can tell you that?”
“How did you come by your first fine watch, my lord?”
“A gift from my late father.”
“With an inscription inside, I imagine?”
“An exhortation to the dutiful life.”
“This is easily an eighty-guinea watch. And our man, who looks to be only twenty-eight or so, would have barely come of age when this watch was made. To be that young and acquire a watch that bears no inscriptions? It suggests to me that he purchased it himself, rather than that it was a gift from an elder.”
“And if it had been his own choice, then it might also explain the care he took—it was his first significant purchase as a man,something he meant to carry with him for a lifetime,” mused Lord Bancroft. “But why then didn’t he put his own initials on it?”
“I thought that odd, too, and I can’t offer you a reason.”
“Anything else you can tell me from the watch?”
She shook her head.
He looked a little disappointed.
“At the moment, the watch relays nothing else helpful. But Icantell you that he tried to leave a message about his fate.”
“How?”
