The House Of Silk

jewellery from my safe. But for the fact that my wife is a light sleeper and actually surprised him in the middle of his larceny, who knows what he might have done next?’
    I turned my attention to the lady who had been sitting beside him. She was a small, very attractive person of about thirty years of age, and she impressed me at once with her bright, intelligent face and her confident demeanour. She had fair hair, drawn back and tied in a knot; a style that seemed designed to accenuate the elegance and femininity of her features. Despite the alarms of the morning I guessed that she had a quick sense of humour, for it was there in her eyes, which were a strange shade between green and blue, and her lips, which were constantly on the edge of a smile. Her cheeks were lightly freckled. She was wearing a simple dress with long sleeves, untrimmed and unbraided. A necklace of pearls hung around her neck. There was something about her that reminded me, almost at once, of my own, dear Mary. Even before she had spoken, I was sure that she would have the same disposition; a natural independence and yet a keen sense of duty to the man whom she had chosen to marry.
    ‘Perhaps you should begin by introducing us,’ Holmes remarked.
    ‘Of course. This is my wife, Catherine.’
    ‘And you must be Mr Sherlock Holmes. I am very grateful to you for replying so quickly to our telegram. I told Edmund to send it. I said you would come.’
    ‘I understand that you have had a very unsettling experience,’ Holmes said.
    ‘Indeed so. It is as my husband told you. I was woken up last night and saw from the clock that it was twenty past three. There was a full moon shining through the window. I thought at first that it must have been a bird or an owl that had disturbed me, but then I heard another sound, coming from inside the house, and I knew that I was wrong. I rose from my bed, drew on a dressing gown and went downstairs.’
    ‘It was a foolish thing to do, my dear,’ Carstairs remarked. ‘You could have been hurt.’
    ‘I didn’t consider myself to be in any danger. To be honest, it didn’t even occur to me that there might be a stranger in the house. I thought it might be Mr or Mrs Kirby – or even Patrick. You know I don’t completely trust that boy. Anyway, I looked briefly in the drawing room. Nothing had been disturbed. Then, for some reason, I was drawn to the study.’
    ‘You had no light with you?’ Holmes asked.
    ‘No. The moon was enough. I opened the door and there was a figure, a silhouette perched on the window sill, holding something in his hand. He saw me and the two of us froze, facing each other across the carpet. At first, I didn’t scream. I was too shocked. Then it was as if he simply fell backwards through the window, dropping down on to the grass, and at that very moment I was released from my spell. I called out and raised the alarm.’
    ‘We will examine the safe and the study momentarily,’ Holmes said. ‘But before we do so, Mrs Carstairs I can tell from your accent that you are American. Have you been married long?’
    ‘Edmund and I have been married for almost a year and a half.’
    ‘I should have explained to you how I met Catherine,’ Carstairs said. ‘For it is very much connected with the narrative that I related yesterday. The only reason that I chose not to do so was because I thought it had no relevance.’
    ‘Everything has a relevance,’ remarked Holmes. ‘I have often found that the most immaterial aspect of a case can be at the same time its most significant.’
    ‘We met on the
Catalonia
the very day that it left Boston,’ Catherine Carstairs said. She reached out and took her husband’s hand. ‘I was travelling alone, apart, of course, from a girl whom I had employed to be my companion. I saw Edmund as he came on board and I knew at once that something dreadful had happened. It was obvious from his face, from the fear in his eyes. We passed each other on the deck that evening. Both of us were single. And by a stroke of good fortune we found ourselves seated next to each other at dinner.’
    ‘I do not know how I would have lasted the crossing if it had not been for Catherine.’ Carstairs continued the tale. ‘I have always been of a nervous disposition and the loss of the paintings, the death of Cornelius Stillman, the terrible violence … it had all been too much for me. I was quite unwell, in a fever. But from the very first Catherine looked after me and I