Aylia Holmes

6. Trials of Love

"I'm looking for a girl," Enola said. "Sarah Chapman. Her sister employed me. Bessie."

"The little girl I stitched up?" Elwin clarified.

"Yes," Enola said. "She worked at Lyons Match Factory by day and the music hall at night. She has a lover, whose flat I visited." Striding forward, she handed Sherlock the same folded piece of paper Grail had examined as she said, "He'd given her this."

After staring at it for a few seconds, he said, "Twenty-eight Bell Place?"

"Whitechapel, yes," Enola replied, ignoring her surprise. "And there I found her friend...murdered."

"How do you and Aylia play into this?" Sherlock asked, looking at Elwin.

"A few days ago, Enola brought Bessie to me to stitch up a three-inch laceration across her arm," Elwin said. "I didn't think anything of it at the time, just assumed it was some girl she'd found, but then today, I was leaving my office to get some lunch when a young woman ran up to me and told me someone had been stabbed at that same address. I rushed there, picking up Ayla on the way. I knew I would need her help and it wouldn't lose me much time so...but when we got there, it was already too late. There was too much blood. Ayla and I tried, but she still died."

"So she died right after you arrived?" Sherlock said. Elwin nodded. "And who killed her? This poppy fellow?"

"I suspect so," Enola replied. "Perhaps he kidnapped Sarah and her friend discovered it."

With a faint scoff, Sherlock remarked, "Love. What it does to people..." After a long pause, he asked, "How was she killed?"

"Kitchen knife," Enola replied.

"And did you touch this weapon?"

"No," Enola said.

Turning to face her, Sherlock asked, "Then why did you run?"

"I found more evidence on her. This policeman wanted it."

"Grail," Elwin explained wearily, leaning back against the wall.

"We have a history," Sherlock admitted.

"This was in her pocket," Enola said, handing over the paper she had taken.

Unfolding it, Sherlock returned to the living room, took up his violin, and attempted to play it.

Finally having enough of the confusing tune, Sherlock said, "It's as bad as the poem. Leave it with me."

"No," Enola retorted, snatching it back. "It's mine, and it's important. Grail said she had stolen something and that she was blackmailing them, though Sarah wouldn't do that."

"How can you tell? You don't know this person," Sherlock reminded her.

"I feel I do," she said.

"You came here running from the police," Sherlock said, crossing the room. "Someone is already dead, and you are now involved in a murder case."

"A little more involved than you think, Sherlock," Elwin remarked. "There are a few gaps you're missing here."

"And what are those?" Sherlock asked curiously.

Stepping forward, Elwin explained, "Grail only arrested Ayla because he couldn't arrest Enola. He wanted to arrest Enola, but when she ran, Aylia was the next best target."

"Why not you?" Enola asked in surprise.

"Two reasons," Sherlock replied. "Firstly, and possibly the most important, is Lord Tewksbury. If he knew his cousin he views as a brother was in jail, I highly doubt it would go well at all, especially considering the lack of evidence. Secondly, Elwin has an established medical practice. Out of all of you, he has the most reason to be there. Aylie was simply the easiest target after you ran when you let your emotions get the better of you."

Grabbing his coat, Sherlock ordered, "Stay here. Don't leave. I will look into this."

"But Sarah Capman is my responsibility," Enola retorted. "No one else cares for these girls. I promised her sister."

"The first mistake a detective makes is to make it about themselves and not the case," Sherlock scolded. "Elwin, you're coming with me." After opening the door, he paused, turning back briefly as he said in a voice far more emotional than either of them had ever heard him use, "Enola, I know you're not a fan of unnecessary advice, but please...don't turn into me."

Without another word, he left the flat. Elwin sighed, rubbing his forehead a moment before pulling on his own coat and following behind.

.

Elwin could not help but feel nervous as he and Sherlock approached the crime scene.

The two policemen at the door centred in as they said, "Sir-"

"Don't be ridiculous," Sherlock retorted, moving past them.

"They moved the girl's body," Elwin remarked, approaching the bed.

Sherlock turned from it, his eyes fixing on a dark hat poised on the desk.

"Elwin, go see if you can visit Aylie," he said in a distant voice, lifting the hat out of place and examining it. "Legally, they can't keep her from you, being your wife and all."

"Right," Elwin said, looking between Sherlock and the hat in confusion. "Will you come along later?"

"Possibly," Sherlock replied in the same distracted, distant voice.

"Sherlock, you have to do something," Elwin insisted. "They will hang her! Is that what you want?"

Dropping the hat, Sherlock rounded on him, his eyes blazing.

"Of course it's not what I want!" he retorted. "But you've said it yourself, Grail doesn't want Aylie. He wants Enola. He'll release her before it gets to that point." Calming himself down some, Sherlock said in a softer tone, "Go see her, Elwin. If I know her at all, she's putting on a brave face, but she's scared out of her wits."