Miss Holmes poured for the rest of them and passed around a plate of curious-looking biscuits, fluted like seashells. “Madeleines,” she said. “They are very good. The recipe is said to come from Madame Durant herself.”
Treadles had no idea who Madame Durant was, but the biscuits were indeed good. In fact, by his third bite, he realized they were spectacularly delicious. He looked down at the plate and wondered whether it would be possible to pilfer one undetected to take home to Alice.
“I understand time is short,” said Miss Holmes. “We are ready to proceed whenever you care to start, Inspector.”
Treadles glanced toward the room that held the invalid. “You are certain, Miss Holmes, that this arrangement will prevail?”
“I have no doubt.”
“But Mr. Holmes, if he is as indisposed as I imagine him to be—what if our discussion should prove too taxing? Out here I would not know when to stop.”
“Mrs. Hudson would let us know if we have gone on too long for him.”
Treadles lowered his voice, though he had the impression he was only being silly, rather than discreet. “I hate to ask this, Miss Holmes, but the episode, has it affected your brother’s mind?”
Miss Holmes smiled—was it an ironic smile? “Allow me to assure you, Inspector, that although the episode negatively affected many aspects of Sherlock Holmes’s life, it mercifully spared his mind, which remains as eccentric and intractable as ever.”
Was Treadles imagining things or did Lord Ingram let out an almost inaudible snort?
“You are still unsure, Inspector,” said Miss Holmes. “Would you like to know for certain that Sherlock’s powers of observation and deduction are very much intact?”
“I would take the lady at her word,” said Lord Ingram as he studied the rim of his teacup.
It occurred to Treadles that his lordship hadn’t looked directly at Miss Holmes since they arrived.
“The choice is yours, Inspector,” said Miss Holmes.
Treadles hesitated some more. “My lord, have you seen Miss Holmes’s brother face-to-face since his episode?”
“No, I have not.”
“Then, with all due apology, as this is a matter of public trust, I would like to be assured that Mr. Holmes’s capabilities are what they were.”
“Of course,” said Lord Ingram.
Oddly enough, his lordship’s voice contained no trace of annoyance, only the faintest hint of pity.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment.” Miss Holmes went into the next room and closed the door.
Treadles turned to Lord Ingram. “My lord, I hope I have not given offense in following my own counsel.”
“Not at all. Were I you, I would have made the same choice.”
Treadles exhaled.
But then Lord Ingram added, “And were you me, you’d have issued the same warning.”
Miss Holmes returned with a bright smile for her visitors. She took her seat and arranged her skirts with practiced ease.
“This is what Sherlock has to say about you, Inspector.”
Him? Treadles glanced again at Lord Ingram, who seemed once again fascinated by the shape of his teacup.
Miss Holmes pulled out a small notebook from a pocket in her skirt and consulted it. “You come from the northwest. Cumbria. Barrow-in-Furness. Your father was employed by either the steelworks or the shipyard. The shipyard, most likely. He was Scottish, your mother wasn’t. He did well enough to send you to a good school, but unfortunately he died young and you weren’t able to go to university.”
Treadles stared at her. Had Sherlock Holmes learned all this from Lord Ingram? But he couldn’t remember ever telling his lordship what Angus Treadles had done for a living.
“You began your career in Cumbria but came to London before too long. Here you were married. A happy union—many congratulations. Your father-in-law was a well-to-do man. And like Lord Ingram, he appreciated your intelligence, industry, and decency. Unfortunately, he is no more and his heir, who is not a man of as exceptional caliber, does not feel nearly the same affection toward either you or your wife. Finances have become strained, but your wife is a resourceful and resilient woman, and your domestic contentment has not been adversely affected.”
Inspector Treadles, with some effort, closed his mouth. He was sure he had never mentioned his finances to Lord Ingram, who now wore an expression of mild apology.
“Mr. Holmes knows all this from having listened to me speak ten words?”