Sherlock Holmes and the case of the Blind Duchess

Chapter 3

     Before the Duchess say another thing, the door swung open to reveal a man of legal bearing. Dressed in impeccable black, he bore the gravitas of a lawyer, and his piercing gaze seemed to scan Holmes and Watson with suspicion.

     "Allow me to introduce myself," The man called out, "I am Reginald Pembroke, legal advisor to Her Grace. It is my duty to ensure her safety and uphold the integrity of her affairs," the lawyer declared, extending a hand for a firm shake.

     Holmes and Watson exchanged a glance, as both men could easily detect the undercurrent of distrust in Pembroke's demeanor as well as his tone of voice.

     "Mr. Pembroke," Holmes stated calmly, "I can assure you that our only interest lies in resolving the matter at hand and ensuring the safety of Her Grace."

     The lawyer's eyes narrowed, and he scrutinized Holmes with a discerning gaze.

     "Forgive me if I find it difficult to trust outsiders," he chided back, "The Duchess's affairs are complex, and not everyone has her best interests at heart."

     "That is oddly understood," Holmes replied, "I am often quite mistrusting myself. So, you will forgive me if the distrust is returned in kind while we investigate the matter at hand."

     "I would expect nothing less from a man of great wit," Pembroke said, not even offended by the suggestion, as he would feel the exact same way if in a similar situation.

     "Master Holmes, Dr. Watson," The Duchess implored her guests, "Please understand the delicate nature of my predicament. I fear for my life, and I believe that only your renowned skills can unearth the truth."

     Holmes nodded, his keen eyes assessing the room.

     "Your Grace," Holmes called out, "What happened that made you fear for your life?"

     "It started a few night ago," the Duchess began to recall, her voice tinged with sorrow. "Under the cover of darkness, a man has been sneaking into my room every night as I'm try to find my sleep."

     "How do you know there is a man in the room if you can't see him?" Watson asked.

     "Hush, Watson," Holmes snapped back, "Clearly she heard the man sneak in and most likely could smell him as well. She may be blind but her other faculties still function!"

     "Of course," Watson said, feeling quite daft. "Apologies."

     "Quite right, Master Holmes," The Duchess confirmed, "I can hear the floorboards creak every night as he tries to sneak up to my bed. When he gets close enough he whispers a chilling threat in my ear as I lay helpless in my bed."

     "What does he tell you?" Holmes inquired.

     "She just told you!" Pembroke reminded him, "She said he's making threats!"

     "I understood that part," Holmes chided back, "But I need to know exactly what he said. In my line of work, details always matter!"

     "The first night he came to my room," The Duchess recalled, "He informed me that I would die in ten days."

     "Did he give any other details?" Watson asked, "Such as the time, or place?"

     "He did not," Her Grace answered, "That was the only thing he would say and then he'd leave as quickly as he arrived."

     "You said he's been coming to your room every night," Holmes reminded her, "What did he tell you the next night?"

     "The same thing," The Duchess answered, "The only thing that changes is the number. The second night it was nine, and then eight..."