Sherlock Holmes in the Case of the
Poisoned HusbandIt is now once again that I am able to sit down and record another one of the many mysteries of my partner, Sherlock Holmes. As usual, Holmes and I were sitting in the parlor one night playing a game of chess when all of the sudden there was a sharp knock on the door.
" Watson, my dear friend, don't just sit there. Please, invite our visitor or visitors inside." When I answered the door, the re was a young woman there, looking scared and confused.
"Is this 22b Baker street, the home of the famous Sherlock Holmes." " Why yes it is," I stated, wondering very intently on why a woman such as herself would be here at this time of night. I stepped back to let her in, and was finally able to get a better look at her. She looked like she was in her thirties, young, and by the ring on her finger I could tell she was married.
" Hello there, I am Sherlock Holmes. Can I offer you some tea or maybe some thing to eat," my partner said, as usual as calm as could be.
" No thank you," she replied," actually, I've come to you with a problem that I seem to have had. My name is Anne Miller, and I am having a dilema of sorts. You see, my husband and I are both scientists, and take our work very seriously. My husband believes that lately I have been having a relationship of some sorts with a fellow colleage of ours. I believe that certain colleage might have had something to do with this case. My husband was admitted into the hospital a couple a weeks ago for some serious pains that he was having, and just a couple of nights ago he was re-experiencing those pains again. I believe that our colleage, Mr. Derril Willard, might have murdered my husband. He perished last night."
" I'm terribly sorry to hear that," said Holmes, however when he gave that apalogy he never took his eyes off her. " However, why would you begin to believe that your colleage, Mr. Willard did you say, was the one who killed him?"
" My husba nd and Mr. Willard never got along very well. When my husband accused us of having a relationship, I believe that Mr. Willard acted wrongly. That night we attended a dinner party that he and his wife were having and he said that all was forgiven. I believe that he might've put some sort of poision inside my husband's drink before giving it to him. However, I have no way of proving it. The police are currently looking into the investigation, but I believe that you were the best person to come to."
" Well thank you Mrs. Miller. My partner and I will be happy to bring this case to justice." As she took her leave, Holmes eyes were still fixated on her. For some reason, I had a feeling that he knew who the real murderer was, but was not willing to say just who until he was able to get all of the facts in order.
" You know Homes, it could be that Mr. Miller just committed suicide. This does sound like on of those attempts. Maybe she just has something against this man and would like to try to put the blame on him ." As I sat down again to try to reaquaint myself with the ravenous game of chess we were playing, Holmes eyes never left the door.
" That could be Watson. But that would be to simple of a case. A woman like that would not have come to us with a case such as that. We will start our investigation in the morning Watson. Be up and ready, for I suspect that this case will take us some time to crack." With that, Holmes stood up took one last look at the game, moved his piece and declared," Checkmate."
The next morning, as I wearily got out of bed and dressed myself, I took my leave down the stairs to the kitchen, where surprisingly Holmes was already waiting.
" Good morning Watson. I suspect that you already realize that we have a long days work ahead of us." Holmes said, with a plain grin on his face. After eating a good, heartfelt breakfast of ham and eggs we took our leave. Nearly 15 minutes later, we arrived at a small house with only a few window panes and a yard that had obivously not been kept up.
" Why Holmes, where are we?" I said, startled from all the work that needed to be done on this pecicular house.
" We are at the home of Dr. Derril Willard Jr. From what Mrs. Miller told us, her husband seemed to have been poisioned at this exact location. However, I believe that there is still more behind this case indeed." Holmes said, before moving stealithly towards the door. He knocked at the door, and I, nervous about what would happen next, stood quietly behind him. As the door opened, a lovely young woman emerged. She semed quite shocked to see us, but had no problems talking to us.
" Hello. I am Sherlock Holmes and I was wondering if this might be the home where I might be able to find Dr. Derril Willard." Holmes said, however I could see that he was ready to start interrogating even her at that very moment.
" Yes, it is the home of Dr. Willard, but might I be so bold as to ask why you would be at our home today?"
" I need to talk to him about the death of his colleage Mr. Eric Miller. I am not tr ying to frame anyone yet, but i was hoping that your husband might have an insight on what truly happened to him." Holmes said, already beginning the interrogation.
" I assure you that my husband had nothing to do with the murder of Mr. Miller. However, he is at work in his garage and I would be more or less happy to bring you to him. It is there that you will realize how truly wrong you are," said Mrs. Willard, however the confidence in her voice weakened at the end of her sentence, and already i had suspected that Holmes had caught that.
As we followed Mrs. Willard towards their garage, which I presumed served as a lab of some sort, I couldn't help but notice that Holmes eyes were not fixated on the woman, but on the surroundings. I truthfully believe that it is rude to stare at someone else's personal belongings without even making a comment on them, but Holmes still stared intently at them. When we reached the garage, Mrs. Willard reluctantly turned to us and said,
" Please wait out here. I'll be ba ck in a couple of moments with my husband." With that last phrase, she quickly turned around and went inside. I had dared not say anything up until that point, but I was so curious as to see what my old friend was thinking. However, before I was able to question him we heard this frightfully terrifying scream coming from the garage. As Holmes and I entered, the first thing that both of our eyes went directly to was the body lying on the floor and the weeping woman standing over it.
" Mrs. Willard, why, whatever has happened?" I asked, deeply concerned for her wellfare and hoping that she would give me another answer than that of what I thought wa possible.
" This is your husband, isn't it Mrs. Willard," Holmes stated next to me, not showing the least bit of concern for this woman's well being, but instead pushing his way on into the case.
" Yes, it is. But I don't understand. He was fine this morning. He said he was coming out here to work. Is there any possible way that someone else could've murdered hi m?" she said, looking as if we could give her the answer that she had wanted to hear.
" Mrs. Willard, I am terribly sorry but I do believe that your husband committed suicide. I'm regrettably sorry. You say that he came striaght to work, is that right? Did anything else happen before he came in here?" Holmes interrogated, however this time he did seem to look like he cared.
" Well, let me recall. I made him breakfast. We were having a discussion on his newest project that he was working on, something to do with arsenic I believe he said, and then, oh! I remember. This one woman came to the door, I believe she said that her name was Anne Miller, and she did ask to speak to him. They talked for only what seemed to be no more than two minutes and then she left but that is all I can remember."
" Thank you very much for your time Mrs. Wilard. I am terribly sorry for your loss, but we must be going. We will be sure to call the police so they can have a further investigation on this scene. I believe we have all the information that we will need to help us in this matter. Again, I thank you." Holmes declared, and then left swiftly. I, however, felt obligated to stay behind and help, but knew that I must attend to the duty at hand. I said my good-byes and left, trailing Holmes and hoping to find out what he was looking for.
I arrived at the one place where I knew he would surely go to ponder his thoughts, 221b Baker street. As I entered the drawing room, I found my dear friend sitting intently near the fire. I could not even breathe a word before he said,
" How is it possible Watson? That man could not have killed himself for no reason. I believe that I have solved this case straight on. But in order to bring it out into the open, we will need to see the Scotland yard and Mrs. Miller." He said, and then wen t straight away to make the call.
Nearly half an hour later, both men from the Scotland yard and Mrs Miller had arrived. Mrs. Miller, wearing nothing but black, looked solemnly at Holmes and replied,
" Have yo u done it? Did you find out who is the murder of my husband?"
" Yes Mrs. Miller I have. Gentlemen, would you please be so kind as to take this woman away. She is the killer of Mr. Eric Miller." Everyone gasped, especially Mrs. Miller and myself.
" Why Holmes, whatever are you talking about?" I managed to say after gaining control over myself.
" Watson, my friend, Mrs Miller is the killer of Mr. Eric Miller. From this I can prove. She arrived here last night and told us all about her case and how her husband had died. She said that she believed that she thought that Mr. Willard had poisioned her husband with something, however she was unsure. This morning we found the body of Dr. Derril Willard in his garage, and beside him lay a note stating that he was denying any role in the killing of Mr. Miller. Also, I was able to find out from the hospital that Mr. Miller had been admitted into the hospital twice. Once after the dinner party from the the Willard's home, and the second time after eating a dinner that his wife, Mrs. Anne Miller, had prepared for him."
" That doesn't prove anything Holmes. He could've died from heart problem or something common. Why would you believe that his wife killed him?" I said, still puzzled by what he had come about.
" Simple Watson. You see, if you remember correctly, Mrs. Willard today stated that both Mr. Willard and Mrs. Miller had in fact been doing research with arsenic. I believe that they used araenic poisioning against Mr. Miller, and murdered him." After about a half hour or so, the Scotland yard took Mrs. Miller away, and she was found guilty of the death of her husband, Mr. Eric Miller. However, I , still puzzled at all that had happened that day, was wondering myself how it was that Holmes was able to crack this case.
" Holmes, my dear friend, do not believe that I am trying to question you, but however did you know that it was arsenic poisioning? I mean, it oculd've been any other poisioning, why arsenic?"
" Simple my dear Watson. Arsenic is a substance that is hard to trace and to identify as well. It is a colorless poision which is also tasteless and doesn't stay very long in the human body. Its symptoms can also be confused with a flu like symptom, which when admitted into the hospital Mr. Miller was mistakened to have. Also, Mr. Willard and Mrs. Miller were the only ones who had access to the arsenic. I believe that they tried to murder Mr. Miller the first time by putting the arsenic into his drink, but when he was still able to come out of the poision, Mrs. Mil 4ler took matters into her own hands and poisioned his dinner plate with the arsenic as well." Holmes said, and I could surely see that behind his expressionless face that he was very proud of himself.
" Incredible. However, I do have one more question. Why would a woman want to murder her husband?"
" Money, insurance, any way possible to get out of a marriage. For that answer, we will never know. I have cracked many cases in my time Watson, but I believe that I should out that question to rest."
" Holmes, you are a genius among men," I said, still amazed at how a man that lives such a simple life could solve mysteries such as these.
" Elementary, my dear Watson, elementary." said Holmes, and we both settled in to play another game of invigorating game of chess at our home at 221b Baker Street.