The Valley of Fear (Sherlock Holmes 7)

"The Valley of Fear," the lady answered. "That was an expression he hasused when I questioned him. 'I have been in the Valley of Fear. I amnot out of it yet.'--'Are we never to get out of the Valley of Fear?' Ihave asked him when I have seen him more serious than usual. 'SometimesI think that we never shall,' he has answered."

"Surely you asked him what he meant by the Valley of Fear?"

"I did; but his face would become very grave and he would shake hishead. 'It is bad enough that one of us should have been in its shadow,'he said. 'Please God it shall never fall upon you!' It was some realvalley in which he had lived and in which something terrible hadoccurred to him, of that I am certain; but I can tell you no more."

"And he never mentioned any names?"

"Yes, he was delirious with fever once when he had his hunting accidentthree years ago. Then I remember that there was a name that camecontinually to his lips. He spoke it with anger and a sort of horror.McGinty was the name--Bodymaster McGinty. I asked him when he recoveredwho Bodymaster McGinty was, and whose body he was master of. 'Never ofmine, thank God!' he answered with a laugh, and that was all I couldget from him. But there is a connection between Bodymaster McGinty andthe Valley of Fear."

"There is one other point," said Inspector MacDonald. "You met Mr.Douglas in a boarding house in London, did you not, and became engagedto him there? Was there any romance, anything secret or mysterious,about the wedding?"

"There was romance. There is always romance. There was nothingmysterious."

"He had no rival?"

"No, I was quite free."

"You have heard, no doubt, that his wedding ring has been taken. Doesthat suggest anything to you? Suppose that some enemy of his old lifehad tracked him down and committed this crime, what possible reasoncould he have for taking his wedding ring?"

For an instant I could have sworn that the faintest shadow of a smileflickered over the woman's lips.

"I really cannot tell," she answered. "It is certainly a mostextraordinary thing."

"Well, we will not detain you any longer, and we are sorry to have putyou to this trouble at such a time," said the inspector. "There aresome other points, no doubt; but we can refer to you as they arise."

She rose, and I was again conscious of that quick, questioning glancewith which she had just surveyed us. "What impression has my evidencemade upon you?" The question might as well have been spoken. Then, witha bow, she swept from the room.

"She's a beautiful woman--a very beautiful woman," said MacDonaldthoughtfully, after the door had closed behind her. "This man Barkerhas certainly been down here a good deal. He is a man who might beattractive to a woman. He admits that the dead man was jealous, andmaybe he knew best himself what cause he had for jealousy. Then there'sthat wedding ring. You can't get past that. The man who tears a weddingring off a dead man's--What do you say to it, Mr. Holmes?"

My friend had sat with his head upon his hands, sunk in the deepestthought. Now he rose and rang the bell. "Ames," he said, when thebutler entered, "where is Mr. Cecil Barker now?"

"I'll see, sir."

He came back in a moment to say that Barker was in the garden.

"Can you remember, Ames, what Mr. Barker had on his feet last nightwhen you joined him in the study?"

"Yes, Mr. Holmes. He had a pair of bedroom slippers. I brought him hisboots when he went for the police."

"Where are the slippers now?"

"They are still under the chair in the hall."

"Very good, Ames. It is, of course, important for us to know whichtracks may be Mr. Barker's and which from outside."

"Yes, sir. I may say that I noticed that the slippers were stained withblood--so indeed were my own."

"That is natural enough, considering the condition of the room. Verygood, Ames. We will ring if we want you."

A few minutes later we were in the study. Holmes had brought with himthe carpet slippers from the hall. As Ames had observed, the soles ofboth were dark with blood.

"Strange!" murmured Holmes, as he stood in the light of the window andexamined them minutely. "Very strange indeed!"

Stooping with one of his quick feline pounces, he placed the slipperupon the blood mark on the sill. It exactly corresponded. He smiled insilence at his colleagues.

The inspector was transfigured with excitement. His native accentrattled like a stick upon railings.

"Man," he cried, "there's not a doubt of it! Barker has just marked thewindow himself. It's a good deal broader than any bootmark. I mind thatyou said it was a splay-foot, and here's the explanation. But what'sthe game, Mr. Holmes--what's the game?"