The Spider Web (A Sherlock Holmes Uncovered Tale Book 4) Read online

  “I am sorry, Holmes, but I have exaggerated,” said Percy, with a laugh. “Sir John would want it no other way, but it is my feeling that the love that Sir John’s relatives have for him mostly extends to his wealth.”

  “Then he has wealth to desire?”

  “That he does. Sir John has been a most successful man of business, besides his ventures into exploration. Yes, dear Holmes, the Spider Web has drawn all the greedy flies to its trap.”

  “Spider Web?” I said, with some confusion. “What is the Spider Web?”

  “Why, that is the name the locals have for the hall. My understanding is that it was once covered in some sort of Spanish moss that was imported from America, but has long since died out because of the climate. This hanging moss gave the hall the appearance of a spider web. Of course, the name led Sir John to acquire the Spider Diamond from South Africa. I believe it was to be a bridal gift for his lost love, but that apparently went astray. It is kept at the hall, for Sir John will have it no other way.”

  “I have heard of the Spider Diamond, but it has a dark past does it not?” I asked.

  “Oh that is true, Holmes. My understanding is that several of the past owners have met with an untimely demise. It is now at the hall and my uncle has owned it for two decades, so I believe any bad luck was happenstance. The diamond is set in a simple necklace. Sir John takes special precautions with it he says, but at any rate he is his own master and does what he wishes. I think it is foolhardy to risk its theft to burglars, but I will not gainsay him, as he is my benefactor.”

  “Who else resides at the hall then? You said there were several relations.”

  “Well, there are Sir John’s two nephews. George Hardwick is the son of Sir John’s eldest brother. He is a good fellow. Dropped out of Cambridge in order to look after his dying mother, I believe. His father had been a jeweler of some note, but he died some years ago as well. He is a good sporting man. He generally makes a good impression upon people. He manages the estate for his uncle these days, though I rather fancy he would rather be on his own and make his own way. Sir John wants him close by, so close by he stays.”

  “And what of the other nephew?” I asked, with interest.

  “Well, that would be Robert Hardwick. He is the child of Sir John’s youngest brother. He’s a bit of a rotter I suppose, but he is jolly good company when he isn’t at his cousin’s throat.”

  “He and George Hardwick do not get along?”

  “I should say not, Holmes,” said Percy with spirit. “Robert has no university education himself, but he is extremely quick witted and he can often reduce his cousin George to a sputtering mess when they argue, which is often. As with many black hats, he has his admirers. I daresay that he is better loved by his uncle than the dutiful George. Prodigal son and all that, don’t you know.”

  “Is it an exclusively male household then?”

  “It is not,” replied Percy. “Sir John’s niece, Miss Jane Grafton, resides in the hall. She is the daughter of Sir John’s only married sister. She is a lovely girl and is a most pleasant companion if I may be so bold to say. She is a blooming flower in spring Holmes. At the other end of the spectrum is the unmarried sister of Sir John. Miss Agatha Hardwick is a formidable women of some sixty years and in no way resembles a blooming flower.”

  “The fearsome English spinster of literature then, Percy?” I asked with amusement.

  “Precisely, old boy. Miss Hardwick is sharp as a tack, I dare say, and there is little doubt that she has the best interests of her bachelor brother at heart, but she browbeats him mercilessly. The old fellow is virtually a serf in his own home.”

  “Then that completes the household complement,” I said.

  “Well, no,” said Percy slowly. “Upon my last visit there was a new arrival.”

  “Come now, Hardwick,” I said. “Must I drag every bit of information from you piecemeal?”

  Percy Hardwick leaned his head back and let out a throaty laugh, “I am sorry, Holmes, but the new visitor is the cause of a bit of scandal. I told you that the old fellow is writing a book about his African explorations. Well, he has hired an assistant to do research and typing. I had thought that I was to help him, but apparently he met someone who fits the bill, and it is a young lady.”

  I said nothing, but I saw that Percy’s eyes were alight with merriment.

  “This young lady, Miss Irene Stuart, cannot be more than twenty-five and they say that Sir John is simply potty for her. Can you believe that? Needless to say it has upset some apple carts.”

  “Then there is a romance in the offing?”

  “I hardly think so, but not for lack of effort mind you. Sir John never married, and said he had no use for women, but now I wonder if he regrets his decision. He has only spoken of that one romance and he is very reticent about that. In any case, he could never marry a woman forty years his junior.”

  I thought it quite likely that many older men fancied themselves as appropriate suitors for young women, but I stayed my tongue.

  “It sounds like a lively household,” I said. “But it may be a bit too lively for my tastes.”

  “Nonsense, Holmes,” cried Percy. “The home is enormous and you can have as much solitude as you like. Please come, Holmes. I cannot stand the thought of leaving you completely alone. The hall has a marvelous staff and it is lovely there. Say you will come.”

  It was in my mind to refuse the invitation, but the pleadings of Percy Hardwick had their desired effect and I finally assented to accompany him to the estate.

  “By the by, Percy,” I said. “Just where is Hardwick Manor?”

  “It is outside of Eastbourne in Sussex. Practically on the coast. Now let us get to packing. The Spider Web awaits!”

  Chapter Three

  I soon found myself on a train bustling southward. Percy Hardwick and I passed the time in an amiable fashion. The English countryside could never be described as prosaic, and our trip exposed all the beauty the island had to offer. As we approached our destination, the distinct odor of the sea became present in the air, and I was anxious to see my new home, as it were, for the holiday.

  There was no one at the train station in Eastbourne waiting for us. Hardwick explained, that he had given Sir John only the most general idea of when we might arrive, so we would either have to engage transportation or put our feet to good use. The manor house was some five miles distant, but that was little barrier to two young men in fine physical condition. We began our walk in the sunshine of mid morning and tramped towards our final destination. Fortunately, Percy and I were both Spartan travelers and had only a single bag apiece.

  The country lane was a lonely one. We met no one else on our walk, but it provided an even better look at the countryside than from our train compartment. The southern seaside of England was much different than the colder northern regions, of which I was most familiar. Percy proved a pleasant walking companion, and just as it approached noon, we found ourselves coming into view of The Spider Web.

  Hardwick Manor, as it was formally known, was a fine example of British architecture. The home was a two story affair laid in a solid rectangle, and as is often the case in an ancient manor house, it had the appearance of a castle or fort more than a residence. The moss, which had given the home its somewhat eerie sobriquet was, of course, no longer present, but it was easy to imagine it hanging ghostly from the battlements.

  The main entrance faced the south and we approached from that direction. As we came onto the grounds, I became aware of how well kept the estate was. The lawns were freshly mown, and the hedges and gardens were extremely well tended. There was a small army of men working in the noon sun and they would occasionally give a tip of their caps to young Hardwick as they obviously recognized him. There was a frank appraisal of me, as a stranger to the home, but nothing that could be construed as unfriendly.

  As we came to the ornate entranceway, the doors were opened, as we ascended the steps to them. A very stout and fl
orid man, whose clothes gave evidence of his status as the butler, gave a slight inclination of his head, and spoke to Percy. “It is good to see you, sir. You have been expected, Mr. Hardwick,” he said, in a deep booming voice. “The master has been most anxious for your arrival.”

  “It is good to see you as well, Hudson,” said Percy, in a jolly manner. “Then, Sir John is in residence?”

  “Not at the present I am afraid, sir,” intoned Hudson, with a shake of his head. “He is riding the grounds with Miss Stuart.”

  “What?” cried Percy. “Since when has the old boy gone riding? I didn’t think he had been astride a horse in decades.”

  “He and Miss Stuart have been riding on a daily basis for the past month. It is not my place to speak of the master’s motives, sir, but I believe you will find the master a man much changed from your last visit to the hall.”

  This was a most mysterious statement, and Percy frowned whilst handing his bag to the butler. I did the same and waited for my friend to speak.

  “Well, I must say that is deuced odd, Hudson, but of course, he is his own master,” said Percy. “You were aware that Mr. Holmes was to arrive with me, of course.”

  “Of course, sir,” he said, with a small smile. “Your room has been made ready, sir, and, Mr. Holmes,” he gave me a slight nod, “a room has been prepared for you, as well. Gentlemen, the midday meal is about to be served. Do you wish to refresh yourselves, or will you be seated?”

  “Well, I cannot speak for my friend, but I would rather sit for a meal more than most anything else. What say you, Holmes?”

  I happily agreed with Percy and the butler escorted us from the entrance hall. The dining room was immediately adjacent to the entrance area, and we were soon seated at a large table that was laid out for six. I saw Hudson send no instructions, but a serving girl soon came out of the kitchen with service for two more. I could smell the tantalizing aroma of meat and potatoes coming from beyond the kitchen door, and I found my stomach grumbling in anticipation of a hearty meal. Percy and I were conversing amongst ourselves, when two women entered. One was a beautiful young woman in her twenties with raven hair. The other was a spare matron of elderly years, with a formidable scowl upon her face and grey hair drawn tightly back in a bun. The young girl screeched in happiness and flung herself upon Percy.

  “Oh, you dear boy, you have returned,” she cried.

  Percy blushed visibly as she embraced him.

  “Really, Jane,” scolded the older woman. “Please allow yourself some decorum. We have a guest. Percy, will you handle the introductions, or must I do it myself?”

  Percy freed himself from the clutch of the young woman, and rose to his feet, “May I present my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes.”

  I rose also and bowed.

  “Holmes,” Percy continued. “Please allow me to present my cousin, Miss Jane Grafton, and my aunt, Miss Agatha Hardwick.”

  Jane Grafton politely smiled at me, whilst giving most of her attention to Percy, and Agatha Hardwick was staring at me with intelligent eyes, giving me a frank appraisal. It would appear that I had passed muster because she finally nodded at me to be seated. Percy and his cousin sat as well.

  “So, Mr. Holmes,” said Miss Hardwick, in a strong tenor voice. “I understand you are a fellow student of Percy’s. What are you studying?”

  I informed the lady that my studies were eclectic, but that chemistry was a major area of interest.

  “Then you will have something to talk about with, when my brother returns,” she said. “He has a small laboratory that he piddles in, doing God knows what.”

  “Now, hardly that,” protested Jane. “I can hardly imagine Uncle John piddling at anything. I’ve even seen as serious a man as George using the laboratory. It is no youthful hobby, auntie.”

  “Bah,” replied Miss Hardwick. “All men are children, my dear, and most especially men who have enough money that they need not earn a living. Idleness is an invitation to the devil.”

  The two young cousins laughed a bit at their aunt, although she had given no indication that she was speaking in jest. Jane was avidly questioning Percy about our trip down to the coast, when I became aware of two men approaching the dining room in a fierce argument.

  “George, you simply cannot abide my beating you at anything, can you?” said one of the men as they entered together.

  The two were both just above middle height and slender. The one who had been speaking had the slightly longish hair of the artist, while the other had a more business like appearance. That they were related was obvious, as their features were much alike. Each seemed to be about thirty years of age.

  “Isn’t this the same argument that you two were having the day I left?” asked Percy, with a grin.

  “Why, Percy my boy, I did not realize you were back,” said the man who had not spoken until then. “Drat that lazy Hudson. I asked to be notified when you arrived. I wanted to welcome both yourself and our guest.”

  “Do not upbraid Hudson, George. We have only just arrived and I believe he is seeing to our bags at present,” said Percy. “Now, you must allow me to introduce my friend and fellow student, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Holmes, this is George Hardwick.”

  George Hardwick and I clasped hands and he wished me a pleasant stay at Hardwick Hall.

  “You welcome guests as though you own this estate, George. Its not yours yet,” said the other man.

  Really, Robert, you should not speak that way in front of guests,” said George Hardwick.

  “Really, Robert, you should not speak that way in front of guests,” said Robert, mimicking his cousins voice in a quite accurate tone.

  Percy jumped in to break the tension between the two men. “Holmes, to complete the introductions, this is my cousin, Robert Hardwick.”

  Robert Hardwick quickly regained his good humor and shook hands with me vigorously. George Hardwick on the other hand did not recover his spirits in the same quick fashion, and sat down with a dark expression on his face.

  “Must every meal be accompanied by an argument between you two?” asked Agatha Hardwick sternly.

  “I am all at fault, my dear aunt,” said Robert. “Allow me to apologize for upsetting your delicate system right before a meal. I am in ashes before you”

  The young man bent and kissed his aunt upon the forehead, and she patted him gently on the face as he did so.

  “You’re an imp, Robert Hardwick,” she said with a slight grin. “Someday your charm will fail you, and then where will you be?”

  Her harsh words of admonition were belied by the twinkle in her eye. It was evident that, although Robert Hardwick might be a bit of a rogue, he was also a favorite of the aunt. Mr. George Hardwick observed the interaction with scant happiness.

  “Don’t be so glum, George,” said Jane Grafton. “I think you are charming too, in your own way.”

  The words brought a smile to the face of George Hardwick, and the food was soon brought in from the kitchen. It was served in a competent and efficient manner, and we presently began to eat. Conversation continued unabated by the meal, and it became general with each person speaking over the next.

  I was conversing with Jane Grafton on my left, when I heard Miss Hardwick murmur. “Perhaps, we should have held the meal for John. I wish he had told me when he was going to return.”

  This was stated to a sympathetic George Hardwick, who nodded in agreement with his maiden aunt. Robert, who appeared to have overheard the statement, replied. “Uncle John is enjoying himself with the lovely Irene Stuart. Let him have his fun. I think it has done him a world of good to have a new romance at his age.”

  “Why, Robert, I am surprised at you,” scolded his aunt. “John is merely teaching Miss Stuart to ride, as way of thanks for all her hard work on his book. And do not smirk at me, boy.”

  Robert Hardwick had indeed let a smirk play across his face.

  “Is it that difficult to acknowledge the obvious?” he said. “My dear uncle is besot
ted by the young beauty. Too bad he is not thirty or forty years younger. He might have had a chance with her. I fear she is merely playing with the grand old fellows feelings.”

  “Robert, I believe you are jealous,” said Jane Grafton. “You are not used to another man out shining you.”

  “I plead guilty,” said Robert, with a smile. “She is a pretty young thing, and she rarely gives me a glance. More is the pity.”

  The conversation was interrupted by the clattering of hooves from the drive.

  “Now, put away all this silly talk,” said Miss Hardwick. “John has returned.”

  The words had no more escaped her lips, than the door to the dining room was thrust open, and two people, a man of advancing years and a young woman, walked briskly into the room. The man was of medium height with dark features and a square jaw. The lady looked to be in her early twenties and was slim of figure with auburn hair. They were arm in arm. The two of them halted at the top of the table.

  “Everyone, I have an announcement,” said the older man. “Miss Stuart has done me the honor of consenting to be my wife.”

  Chapter Four

  There was a moment of complete silence from all seated at the table. I looked around the table and examined everyone’s demeanor. The reactions ranged from Miss Hardwick’s plain disapproval and Jane Grafton’s amusement, to George Hardwick’s surprise and Robert Hardwick’s mystification. Percy was first to his feet.

  “Uncle, this is marvelous news,” he said. “If there was champagne to be had, I would propose a toast.”

  “We will put that to right this evening,” said Sir John. “Hudson, see to it that champagne is provided this evening.”

  The stout butler nodded his head and disappeared into the kitchen. I could picture Sir John’s order being handed down to the lowliest scullery maid, who would then descend to the wine cellar for the appropriate bottles.

  “I wish to second dear Percy’s thoughts, uncle,” said Jane Grafton. “Irene, welcome to the family, and God bless this union.”