[At some point in the mid-afternoon, Sherlock comes up to the door at a jog with his coat swirling around him and his Heart sitting at full attention on his shoulder. Eyes bright, he bangs loudly on the door.]
[It's only a moment for Monty to recall what in God's name the man is talking about. When he does, there's a smile that touches the young earl's lips.]
Love is by far one of the most inspiring motivations for a man, Mr. Holmes. It does make fools of us. But tell me, how was love a part of it?
[It's one thing to get halfway to the answer. He wants to know if the man worked it all out properly for his motivations.]
[He's utterly exhilarated, so much so that it's practically radiating off him, making him seem vibrant with energy.]
The woman you loved needed status or money in order to agree to be with you, perhaps she already had a suitor of much higher means that you wouldn't be able to contend with on a mere clerk's wages. That, combined with your sudden knowledge of noble ancestry and what was done to your mother, created the perfect storm for murder.
[Monty inclines his head. It's a little terrifying to be so transparent to a person, but at the same time, Sherlock's intelligence and deductive reasoning is undeniably astounding.]
You are a marvel, sir. My Sibella. We grew up together and I so desperately wished to marry her. But she could not abide the thought of living the life of a poor man's wife. She deserved something more, anyway... And so she took it. His name was Lionel Holland. He was very rich and very dull. I cannot say that I could stomach that, living with someone I did not love, who bored me to tears. But Sibella knew what she wanted, and she did not hesitate to grasp it. I could not blame her for that, however much it hurt.
[Cruel vixen that she was, deciding to marry and then telling him he couldn't marry another woman for love.]
Would you like to come in? I've thought of another case that might well intrigue you. I read about it when I was quite a bit younger and do know the facts of it. But I wonder if you'll be able to sort it from what information there is.
[He was slightly wrong, then, he assumed that it might have been Phoebe that he had to bring his status up in order to match. But it's such a minor detail that it doesn't bother him at all, and he's already marching into the house before the invitation is properly complete.]
Of course!
[He's on a roll, and now he has a taste of the adrenaline again, he wants to keep it going.]
I suppose you might say that it worked out, considering you have married another by now.
If she was real to begin with, Mr. Holmes. [Monty's smile grows a little tighter.] Well, little matter. In the end, I remember it as such, so it's as you say. Villainy would seem to have its rewards.
[He shrugs and motions for Sherlock to sit down. The house is much-changed since they'd first dealt with Monty's case. Renart's influence is prevalent in everything from the nature of the walls--it's more stone and earth, appearing almost den-like--to the furniture--far more plush with more blues, blacks, and silvers. There are also fleur-de-lis in much of the decoration now, along with etchings of foxes. The only thing that remains the same is the portrait of Monty's mother and her jewelry box over the mantle.]
But the case! It concerns a Ms. Janet Melvin, found stabbed 25 times in the Kielder Forest in Northumberland. Does the case sound at all familiar to you? I shouldn't wish to repeat something that may well have been solved by your day.
[The existential crisis is noted, but not remarked on, and neither is the change in decoration. He can tell that it's the influence of his lovers, most clearly that of Renart, and therefore unimportant in the grand scheme of things.]
What was the year?
[His brow is already furrowed, rifling through the hundreds of cases he has stored in there to see if he recalls Janet Melvin. He doesn't think that he does.]
The case doesn't sound familiar to me, was she someone you knew?
1900. I fear I'd never left London until my 21st year. [When he'd gone off to murder the Reverend Lord Ezekiel D'Ysquith in Lincolnshire.] It was simply in all of the papers and I took an interest with the young lady being around my own age.
Ms. Melvin was of the habit of taking walks in the wood near her house with her elder brother. They separated after a spate according to the brother and the next time anyone found Ms. Melvin it was as one of the dearly departed.
[Sherlock might notice the colorful little snake from his first visit slithering out from the kitchen. Lancelot has come to listen for a story to feed on.]
She was found with a bandanna around her neck and her arms and legs bound with a curious sort of rope, the kind of hemp one would use to tie back rosebushes.
That's not a lot to go on, and without seeing the crime scene or even photographs of it, it's a lot harder for him to pick out the clues that might be hiding in plain sight if people just knew how to look for them. He glances briefly at the little snake, but ultimately puts it out of his mind in order to concentrate.]
I need you to tell me every detail you recall. If there were photographs, I need to know all of what you can remember from the scene, as well as any articles written or police reports released.
[Hemp rope of that kind suggests someone either in the gardening trade, or else with access to it readily, but it's hardly enough to make a conviction.]
[Monty closes his eyes and travels back into his memories, letting the notes of songs from the past guide him to where he can find the newspapers he'd seen. When he speaks, it's rhythmic.]
There were three men... There were three men named. A brother, a farmer, a tramp. [He opens up his eyes raises his brows at Sherlock.] Such a cruel claim to fame.
[Music starts up, as if from a phantom orchestra. It's a rather sinister minor chord on the piano complemented by low cello notes and a violin.]
Now Francis, that's the brother, he was taken first to custody. Just fourteen years the poor young dear, caught shooting in the wood. A tragic tale, it's little doubt they found no evidence about his person save a pocket knife as pure and clean as Joseph's wife.
[The music pauses a moment for Monty to clarify.]
A tiny pocket knife, not a trace of blood on it or the lad, himself. He looked rather terrified in the photos I saw of him. And the knife didn't look at all large enough to cause the wounds they described for our victim.
Sherlock has become a little too blase about the different worlds he comes across now, but it's at this moment that he realises that things can still take him by surprise. Why is there an invisible orchestra? Why is Monty singing the clues at him? It's-- well, it's very intriguing, he can't deny it.
He feels an odd little tug, as if it's his turn in the song, and he decides to go with it. Much as he dislikes musicals, he can't deny that he's interested to see if this is some sort of innate ability of Monty's to force them to sing. His words do become more rhythmic, but he doesn't sing.]
Hardly a surprise that the frightened force, would act in a manner so course, and unjustified. It seems that they wanted to prove their nous, and show the public a prisoner of the big house, well... they tried. But the boy was an innocent, his arrest an affront, so they released him. I assume?
And so they turned attention then to "roughly dressed" and "vagrant" men. A Felix Frank they'd apprehend from hence the village prop. "For what?" he cried, he had no way to kill a girl that fateful day for on the church's steps he lay a man fell to his drink. No sheers or knives were come to hand, where came the rope? The blade? The plan? And if indeed, it had been him, what purpose to it all? His release was not so well received. The village cried they'd been deceived and begged the Yard to not believe this lowly beggar's lot.
[There's another pause in the music.]
There wasn't any evidence for him, of course, but a little girl had been stabbed 25 times. They were growing frantic. And the witnesses they'd interviewed had barely any description for the people they'd seen in the wood that day.
[Sherlock almost doesn't listen to the next refrain, too busy being disgusted at his own amateur rhyming in comparison. Nous and big house? Utterly deplorable. He's never called prison "the big house" in his life, that's a ridiculously American saying.
Not wanting to embarrass himself again, this time he actively resists the urge to join in and keeps himself apart from this odd song. At least there's no dance routine to go with it, small mercies.]
Hardly surprising that they'd turn to the lowest of their society, a common tactic for the day, but his alibi must have been strong indeed for them to release him. Such a vicious and prolonged stabbing suggests that the perpetrator knew the victim, frenzied attacks are usually the result of bottled up anger or resentment. Did the child attend classes, either with a governess or teacher, with any other children that she may have been outshining?
[It's most likely the work of an adult, but it would be stupid to rule out another child at this stage.]
[Monty's quiet a moment as he calls back to his memories of the story. And then a there's a sharp nod.]
A sister, yes, I recollect, the elder one, but all respect you think a girl could yet perfect a murder such as this? I've heard, of course, in folk stories of bitter sisters, rivalries, and death the price of jealousy for a star shone brighter o'er. But here in life it seems absurd for the eldest one to kill the third especially when a poisoned word could ruin the younger's lot.
She was sixteen, as I recall, but she and her sister still took lessons from a governess together. The governess was interviewed for the papers and lamented the loss of the youngest Ms. Melvin as tragic given her aptitude. Jealousy can be a powerful motivator, I grant you, but no one ever investigated the sister. She was only mentioned off-hand. Their final major focus was on the farmer, I mentioned.
How could a girl be capable of such things? They are, after all, merely meek and timid creatures. What rot. Girls and women are every bit as vicious and capable as men; possessing, as they do, the same full range of emotional complexity. Still, likely not the sister. Perhaps the governess, why was she interviewed specifically? The help rarely are.
She'd seen her just that fateful morn to fix the dress the girl had torn upon some bush or rose's thorn the day before her last. The constables, they thought, indeed, with this new clue they might succeed. But 'twas a cold and empty lead to any suspect yet.
[He smirks, impressed.]
I see, though, now, you're keen upon our governess, the good Ms. Swan. Had you been there things might have gone a very different way. But hear me out for one more man, then make your judgement--[Monty chuckles]--do your scan I should be delighted if you can explain it all to me.
[Monty considers for a moment which to discuss first before nodding.]
A disposition general, dear friends there were some several a nature kind and ven'rable our youngest girl did have. She had an awesome aptitude and if you will not think me rude 'twas said that she was often viewed the better of the lot.
Her sister tall and dour, the sort to seethe and glower o'er some brighter flower or it rumored was. I think perhaps they thought, though the relationship was fraught, two sisters raised from tots would never fight that way.
And the governess, Ms. Swan? An older woman, drawn. I think some said she would fawn upon the elder girl? At least until some row about the boys she would allow came down to why and how some would not be let in.
[Though song is hardly the ideal medium to get this information, he can look past that in the excitement of finally being able to start slotting the pieces together. It's not as easy as if he had actually been there, and there's a far greater possibility for error when all he has to go on is a second hand witness statement, but he's beginning to see the whole picture.
He closes his eyes, allowing himself to immerse in the scene and pick out the various players around him, labelling them with what he knows. His voice is a murmur, only half attentive now to Monty.]
The man you mentioned, if you please.
Sorry this is going slowly. Songs are... harder when you're trying to do a coherent narrative. 8')b
The farmer, yes, he constituted the final suspect whom they rooted and the one they finally prosecuted for the wicked, wicked deed. But nothing's right within our force he was, you see, let go, of course, upon the finding that his horse was taken ill that day.
He was the farmer nearest to the wood where Ms. Melvin's body was found. And who should better have had the twine used at hand than a vegetable farmer? The police investigated him, arrested him, put him on trial. They thought they might have their man! But alas, it was found that while our good Ms. Melvin was being slain, Mr. Sykes was off and away at the veterinarian having his workhorse seen to. Or so it was testified.
[Monty grins.]
But one final twist, I think you'll like: there was some harsh and bitter strife between the Melvins and the Sykes about some wretched thing. A dispute on lands they both claimed theirs for kith and kindred through the years so on and on here fought the heirs of the Melvins and the Sykes.
A harsh and bitter strife, perhaps, but that does not mean that it would lead to murder. Especially not the murder of the younger daughter, it would make far more sense to kill the son to ruin the family business.
[Just the police bungling again and reaching for straws.]
I believe I have the picture of the scene, I only wish to know one more thing. Do you know how the young girl was dressed when her body was recovered?
I'M SORRY I LOST THIS TAG ALONG WITH LIKE FIVE OTHERS! D8
[Monty inclines his head, well ready to accept the police bungling their case as a legitimate answer. They'd failed to solve the murder after all. There's only a little more left and he raises a hand.]
As I said at the first, Mr. Detective, she was found in the dress so selected by the governess whose objective was to fix the blighted thing. Ms. Swan had mended it that very day before our girl went off to play and see her end when she did stray within those deadly woods.
It was a very nice dress by the look of it in the papers. Not the sort one would think a young lady might go running off in the woods in. I couldn't tell you much beyond that, though.
[Of course he had mentioned it, careless of Sherlock to forget so quickly. He could blame the odd form that this questioning is taking, but the fault is still his for letting the information slip away.]
Thank you.
[Seems simple enough now that he has all the pieces, he can see it play out in his head.]
It seems fairly evident that the elder sister is to blame. Jealousy for her younger sister's looks and aptitude, the adoration she had from others. The sister was older, nearing the age of courtship, yet homely and unlikely to make a good match. Worry over this likely made her more bitter to her sister, and a row simply grew out of hand. Such an intense passion as jealousy often creates a frenzied attack, and stabbing is a way to mar any physical perfections.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
September 13th
no subject
Good day, Mr. Holmes. You seem to be in a merry mood. Something you'd like to share?
no subject
[It's exclaimed with the same intonation that 'eureka' might be.]
Your secondary motivation, Lord Highhurst, was love. Hardly an inspired choice, but true all the same.
no subject
Love is by far one of the most inspiring motivations for a man, Mr. Holmes. It does make fools of us. But tell me, how was love a part of it?
[It's one thing to get halfway to the answer. He wants to know if the man worked it all out properly for his motivations.]
no subject
The woman you loved needed status or money in order to agree to be with you, perhaps she already had a suitor of much higher means that you wouldn't be able to contend with on a mere clerk's wages. That, combined with your sudden knowledge of noble ancestry and what was done to your mother, created the perfect storm for murder.
no subject
You are a marvel, sir. My Sibella. We grew up together and I so desperately wished to marry her. But she could not abide the thought of living the life of a poor man's wife. She deserved something more, anyway... And so she took it. His name was Lionel Holland. He was very rich and very dull. I cannot say that I could stomach that, living with someone I did not love, who bored me to tears. But Sibella knew what she wanted, and she did not hesitate to grasp it. I could not blame her for that, however much it hurt.
[Cruel vixen that she was, deciding to marry and then telling him he couldn't marry another woman for love.]
Would you like to come in? I've thought of another case that might well intrigue you. I read about it when I was quite a bit younger and do know the facts of it. But I wonder if you'll be able to sort it from what information there is.
no subject
Of course!
[He's on a roll, and now he has a taste of the adrenaline again, he wants to keep it going.]
I suppose you might say that it worked out, considering you have married another by now.
no subject
[He shrugs and motions for Sherlock to sit down. The house is much-changed since they'd first dealt with Monty's case. Renart's influence is prevalent in everything from the nature of the walls--it's more stone and earth, appearing almost den-like--to the furniture--far more plush with more blues, blacks, and silvers. There are also fleur-de-lis in much of the decoration now, along with etchings of foxes. The only thing that remains the same is the portrait of Monty's mother and her jewelry box over the mantle.]
But the case! It concerns a Ms. Janet Melvin, found stabbed 25 times in the Kielder Forest in Northumberland. Does the case sound at all familiar to you? I shouldn't wish to repeat something that may well have been solved by your day.
no subject
What was the year?
[His brow is already furrowed, rifling through the hundreds of cases he has stored in there to see if he recalls Janet Melvin. He doesn't think that he does.]
The case doesn't sound familiar to me, was she someone you knew?
no subject
Ms. Melvin was of the habit of taking walks in the wood near her house with her elder brother. They separated after a spate according to the brother and the next time anyone found Ms. Melvin it was as one of the dearly departed.
[Sherlock might notice the colorful little snake from his first visit slithering out from the kitchen. Lancelot has come to listen for a story to feed on.]
She was found with a bandanna around her neck and her arms and legs bound with a curious sort of rope, the kind of hemp one would use to tie back rosebushes.
no subject
That's not a lot to go on, and without seeing the crime scene or even photographs of it, it's a lot harder for him to pick out the clues that might be hiding in plain sight if people just knew how to look for them. He glances briefly at the little snake, but ultimately puts it out of his mind in order to concentrate.]
I need you to tell me every detail you recall. If there were photographs, I need to know all of what you can remember from the scene, as well as any articles written or police reports released.
[Hemp rope of that kind suggests someone either in the gardening trade, or else with access to it readily, but it's hardly enough to make a conviction.]
no subject
[Monty closes his eyes and travels back into his memories, letting the notes of songs from the past guide him to where he can find the newspapers he'd seen. When he speaks, it's rhythmic.]
There were three men... There were three men named. A brother, a farmer, a tramp. [He opens up his eyes raises his brows at Sherlock.] Such a cruel claim to fame.
[Music starts up, as if from a phantom orchestra. It's a rather sinister minor chord on the piano complemented by low cello notes and a violin.]
Now Francis, that's the brother, he
was taken first to custody.
Just fourteen years
the poor young dear,
caught shooting in the wood.
A tragic tale, it's little doubt
they found no evidence about
his person save a pocket knife
as pure and clean as Joseph's wife.
[The music pauses a moment for Monty to clarify.]
A tiny pocket knife, not a trace of blood on it or the lad, himself. He looked rather terrified in the photos I saw of him. And the knife didn't look at all large enough to cause the wounds they described for our victim.
no subject
Sherlock has become a little too blase about the different worlds he comes across now, but it's at this moment that he realises that things can still take him by surprise. Why is there an invisible orchestra? Why is Monty singing the clues at him? It's-- well, it's very intriguing, he can't deny it.
He feels an odd little tug, as if it's his turn in the song, and he decides to go with it. Much as he dislikes musicals, he can't deny that he's interested to see if this is some sort of innate ability of Monty's to force them to sing. His words do become more rhythmic, but he doesn't sing.]
Hardly a surprise that the frightened force, would act in a manner so course, and unjustified. It seems that they wanted to prove their nous, and show the public a prisoner of the big house, well... they tried. But the boy was an innocent, his arrest an affront, so they released him. I assume?
no subject
Indeed.
[And back to singing.]
And so they turned attention then
to "roughly dressed" and "vagrant" men.
A Felix Frank they'd apprehend
from hence the village prop.
"For what?" he cried,
he had no way
to kill a girl that fateful day
for on the church's steps he lay
a man fell to his drink.
No sheers or knives were come to hand,
where came the rope? The blade? The plan?
And if indeed, it had been him,
what purpose to it all?
His release was not so well received.
The village cried they'd been deceived
and begged the Yard to not believe
this lowly beggar's lot.
[There's another pause in the music.]
There wasn't any evidence for him, of course, but a little girl had been stabbed 25 times. They were growing frantic. And the witnesses they'd interviewed had barely any description for the people they'd seen in the wood that day.
no subject
Not wanting to embarrass himself again, this time he actively resists the urge to join in and keeps himself apart from this odd song. At least there's no dance routine to go with it, small mercies.]
Hardly surprising that they'd turn to the lowest of their society, a common tactic for the day, but his alibi must have been strong indeed for them to release him. Such a vicious and prolonged stabbing suggests that the perpetrator knew the victim, frenzied attacks are usually the result of bottled up anger or resentment. Did the child attend classes, either with a governess or teacher, with any other children that she may have been outshining?
[It's most likely the work of an adult, but it would be stupid to rule out another child at this stage.]
no subject
A sister, yes, I recollect,
the elder one, but all respect
you think a girl could yet perfect
a murder such as this?
I've heard, of course, in folk stories
of bitter sisters, rivalries,
and death the price of jealousy
for a star shone brighter o'er.
But here in life it seems absurd
for the eldest one to kill the third
especially when a poisoned word
could ruin the younger's lot.
She was sixteen, as I recall, but she and her sister still took lessons from a governess together. The governess was interviewed for the papers and lamented the loss of the youngest Ms. Melvin as tragic given her aptitude. Jealousy can be a powerful motivator, I grant you, but no one ever investigated the sister. She was only mentioned off-hand. Their final major focus was on the farmer, I mentioned.
no subject
[He rolls his eyes in mild disgust.]
How could a girl be capable of such things? They are, after all, merely meek and timid creatures. What rot. Girls and women are every bit as vicious and capable as men; possessing, as they do, the same full range of emotional complexity. Still, likely not the sister. Perhaps the governess, why was she interviewed specifically? The help rarely are.
no subject
to fix the dress the girl had torn
upon some bush or rose's thorn
the day before her last.
The constables, they thought, indeed,
with this new clue they might succeed.
But 'twas a cold and empty lead
to any suspect yet.
[He smirks, impressed.]
I see, though, now, you're keen upon
our governess, the good Ms. Swan.
Had you been there things might have gone
a very different way.
But hear me out for one more man,
then make your judgement--[Monty chuckles]--do your scan
I should be delighted if you can
explain it all to me.
no subject
[Obviously not a solid case, or they wouldn't be here.]
Tell me anything you know of the girl's disposition, of the governness' family life, and of the sister.
no subject
A disposition general,
dear friends there were some several
a nature kind and ven'rable
our youngest girl did have.
She had an awesome aptitude
and if you will not think me rude
'twas said that she was often viewed
the better of the lot.
Her sister tall and dour,
the sort to seethe and glower
o'er some brighter flower
or it rumored was.
I think perhaps they thought,
though the relationship was fraught,
two sisters raised from tots
would never fight that way.
And the governess, Ms. Swan?
An older woman, drawn.
I think some said she would fawn
upon the elder girl?
At least until some row
about the boys she would allow
came down to why and how
some would not be let in.
no subject
He closes his eyes, allowing himself to immerse in the scene and pick out the various players around him, labelling them with what he knows. His voice is a murmur, only half attentive now to Monty.]
The man you mentioned, if you please.
Sorry this is going slowly. Songs are... harder when you're trying to do a coherent narrative. 8')b
the final suspect whom they rooted
and the one they finally prosecuted
for the wicked, wicked deed.
But nothing's right within our force
he was, you see, let go, of course,
upon the finding that his horse
was taken ill that day.
He was the farmer nearest to the wood where Ms. Melvin's body was found. And who should better have had the twine used at hand than a vegetable farmer? The police investigated him, arrested him, put him on trial. They thought they might have their man! But alas, it was found that while our good Ms. Melvin was being slain, Mr. Sykes was off and away at the veterinarian having his workhorse seen to. Or so it was testified.
[Monty grins.]
But one final twist, I think you'll like:
there was some harsh and bitter strife
between the Melvins and the Sykes
about some wretched thing.
A dispute on lands they both claimed theirs
for kith and kindred through the years
so on and on here fought the heirs
of the Melvins and the Sykes.
never apologise for this beauty
[Just the police bungling again and reaching for straws.]
I believe I have the picture of the scene, I only wish to know one more thing. Do you know how the young girl was dressed when her body was recovered?
I'M SORRY I LOST THIS TAG ALONG WITH LIKE FIVE OTHERS! D8
As I said at the first, Mr. Detective,
she was found in the dress so selected
by the governess whose objective
was to fix the blighted thing.
Ms. Swan had mended it that very day
before our girl went off to play
and see her end when she did stray
within those deadly woods.
It was a very nice dress by the look of it in the papers. Not the sort one would think a young lady might go running off in the woods in. I couldn't tell you much beyond that, though.
no subject
Thank you.
[Seems simple enough now that he has all the pieces, he can see it play out in his head.]
It seems fairly evident that the elder sister is to blame. Jealousy for her younger sister's looks and aptitude, the adoration she had from others. The sister was older, nearing the age of courtship, yet homely and unlikely to make a good match. Worry over this likely made her more bitter to her sister, and a row simply grew out of hand. Such an intense passion as jealousy often creates a frenzied attack, and stabbing is a way to mar any physical perfections.
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