Page 57 of The Hollow of Fear
A knock came at the door. When Lord Ingram gave his assent, Miss Olivia Holmes walked in.
Her gaze landed on Lord Ingram first, a look full of concern and sympathy. Upon seeing Chief Inspector Fowler, her expression turned wary. When she realized Treadles was also present, her features twisted with loathing.
He had never done this woman any harm, never done anything except speak factually of her sister’s misdeeds.
It should not matter that Miss Olivia Holmes detested him. Yet her animosity was like a bludgeon across the cheek and something inside him cracked with a flash of searing bewilderment.
She, who had never set a foot wrong, was now saddled with near-certain spinsterhood, because of her sister’s reckless amorality. She should be angry at that sister—should blaze in the dark with the heat of her outrage. Yet if she could cause it with the force of her will, at this moment it was Treadles who would be flying out of the window in a spray of glass and wood splinter.
And she was not alone in her devotion to Charlotte Holmes.
Standing beside her in comradeship was Lord Ingram, a man of otherwise incorruptible virtues. A man who would, Treadles was beginning to see, never, ever repudiate Charlotte Holmes.
Not to his last breath.
Not even if that last breath was drawn with a noose around his neck.
“Ah, Miss Holmes,” said Fowler, “just the person we wished to see.”
“How may I be of assistance, Chief Inspector?” said Miss Olivia Holmes, her tone cautious—and more than a little prickly.
“We find ourselves in need to speak to Miss Charlotte Holmes and we were hoping you could help us.”
“But I already told you that Charlotte has nothing to do with any of this.”
“Nevertheless, we would like to ask her some questions.”
Miss Olivia Holmes looked toward Lord Ingram, her gaze beseeching, as if a word from him would send the policemen packing.
“At this moment, it would be best if Fowler could speak directly to Miss Charlotte,” Lord Ingram said with great gentleness. “I can offer no advice on how to locate her. If you can, it would be of help to me.”
Still Miss Olivia Holmes hesitated.
“Miss Holmes,” said Fowler, his tone grave to the point of heaviness, “may I remind you that—”
“I know you are the law, sir. But I have no idea where my sister is. It is our agreement that I remain ignorant on the matter, so that I cannot inadvertently inform my parents of her whereabouts.”
“I see,” said Fowler, frowning.
“But before she left home, Charlotte told me that if I needed to contact her, I can put a notice in the paper, in a simple code of her devising. I will give you the cipher. Is there anything else you need from me?”
Fowler took a step in her direction. “You are not leaving, are you, Miss Holmes?”
“We are here because of an unfortunate mishap at Mrs. Newell’s house. Now that her place is habitable again, Mrs. Newell has invited me to return there.”
“And the other guests?”
“Most of them will leave directly from Stern Hollow to their next destination. Mrs. Newell expressed the wish that I should remain with her a little longer, and I will.”
“Very good. We were hoping you will remain in the vicinity for some more time, in case we need to speak with you again.”
Miss Olivia Holmes smiled, a smile at once brittle and icy. “I will, of course, render every assistance.”
When she had left the room, Fowler said, “A very spirited young lady. Is her sister at all like her?”
The question was addressed to Lord Ingram, who said, almost as if amused, “I shouldn’t think so.”
“How would you describe Miss Charlotte Holmes, then?”
