FIC: The Case of the Yankee Spinster, PG, Chapters 10 and 11
Title: The Case of the Yankee Spinster, Chapters 10 and 11
Author: Alex
Type: Gen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This story is based on a factual case. I do not own the Holmes characters.
Warnings: Description of brutal murders.
Beta: Larry, Larian, Luin
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mary Watson, Lizzie Borden.
Archive: Oeam, Archive of our Own, Alex’s Story Book
Author’s Note: This is my entry in the 1st annual OEAM Big Bang fiction challenge
Spoilers: Not really
Summary: What if Holmes had been asked to investigate the Borden murders?
~~~
Chapter Ten - Emma
Morning brought the post from New York and a letter from Mary.
My dearest John,
I miss you horribly but New York is a wondrous place. I just wish we were seeing it together instead of just me. Perhaps someday we can bring our son here to visit.
I am well. The morning sickness is not bad at all though I do tend to get weak if I don’t eat often enough. I swear that I can feel him growing already.
Your letters are fascinating though I am not sure that I’d like to meet Miss Borden. She sounds rather overbearing and not in a sometimes amusing way like Mr. Holmes. Do you think she killed her parents? How could anyone do such a thing?
I must go. It is time for dinner and I mustn’t keep my hosts waiting.
I love you and miss you so much.
Yours always,
Mary
I wanted to be with her so badly that it was nearly a physical pain. I laid her letter aside and ordered tea brought up with the morning papers. There was more of the same regarding Miss Borden and little else of interest to me.
I needed to speak with Miss Emma Borden now. Neither Holmes nor I had met her yet and even though she was not in Fall River when the murders occurred, she was no doubt the foremost expert on Lizzie Borden and the entire Borden household.
I had sent a note to her the day before and she agreed to speak with me at Mr. Jennings’ law offices. After breakfast, I made my way there to speak with her.
Miss Emma Borden was nine years older than Lizzie and looked even older than her early forties. She was actually much more pleasant than Miss Lizzie had been, which was quite a relief to me.
“Good morning, Dr. Watson. How may I help you? I am sure you know our tale almost as thoroughly as we do by now.”
“I have spoken with your sister and with Miss Sullivan. I simply wanted to ask you a few questions too.”
She nodded.
“You did not like your stepmother?” I decided to be blunt in my questioning.
“Not so very much, no. She always thought to be our mother and she simply was not. I remember our mother and did not ever want another after she was gone.”
“Was there trouble between your stepmother and your sister?”
“Nothing very recent. Lizzie and I both were angry when father bought that house for Mrs. Whitehead and gave his half to Mrs. Borden. This was about five years ago.”
“Was this why Lizzie stopped calling her Mother?”
“Lizzie will say no but I suspect that it really was the reason.”
“Why did your father wear Lizzie’s school ring?”
Emma sighed. “She gave it to him, put it on his finger and he simply never removed it. I cannot tell you why because only Lizzie and Father knew why.”
I wasn’t getting much from her. She was very protective of Lizzie; that much was obvious. I had read her inquest testimony and much of it seemed rehearsed, as if she were there simply to back up what Lizzie testified to.
Unfortunately Lizzie’s testimony was what got her indicted for the murders in the first place. She had given three different answers to the question of where she was when her father came home around 10:30 that fateful morning and there was still no clear answer in the record.
“Miss Borden, I have heard rumors that both you and Lizzie were angry with your father in the weeks before his death and that both of you were away from home because of that anger.”
Her face colored just enough to let me know that I had struck a nerve but I was right in thinking she’d never actually say such a thing.
“I know of no quarrel between Lizzie and Father.”
“Not even over the pigeons?”
“Pigeons?” She seemed surprised at the question. “Oh, you mean the birds Father killed in the barn? Why would Lizzie be angry?”
“I understood that they were her pets.”
“Nonsense! She fed them now and again but she did that to any creature that came into the yard.”
“Do you have any idea who killed your father and stepmother?”
“None, Dr. Watson. No idea at all.”
I thanked her for her time and let myself out of the room.
Emma Borden was certainly not like Lizzie. She was quiet and retiring, seemingly incapable of lying though I could see that perhaps she might get fierce in protecting Lizzie, who I’d been told that Emma considered more of a daughter than a sister. Had she been in Fall River at the time of the murders, she might have been the perfect suspect.
As I walked back to our hotel, I wondered where Holmes was and what he might be doing this day. I didn’t dare try to speculate, since it usually only got me into more trouble.
I ordered some lunch and read more of the morning papers while I waited to see what Holmes wished me to do next. Mr. Jennings was quoted as having brought in a famous detective from London to help find the killer and thus free poor, dear Lizzie from her unfortunate incarceration.
Some of the wealthy ladies of Fall River vowed to support Lizzie through thick and thin. I had to smile as I wondered if these were the same women who refused Lizzie admittance into their society since her father refused to play their games. How long would they stand with her when she wasn’t safely behind bars?
I was on my third cup of tea and contemplating something a little stronger when Holmes came dashing into the restaurant and rushed to my table.
“Watson! I have been looking for you.”
“Not very hard as I’ve been here for more than the past hour.”
“No matter. I have solved the case. I know who killed the Bordens and I am a long way toward figuring out why.”
~~~
Chapter Eleven - Tea and a Splinter
My jaw dropped at Holmes’ statement.
“Who?”
“Whoever washed themselves in the basin in the cellar.”
I sagged. Of course he didn’t mean the name of the murderer. Why would I have thought that?
“Why?”
“I believe that whoever killed Mrs. Borden may have killed Mr. Borden because they figured out that he would find out what had happened.”
“Was it Lizzie?” I had to ask if he thought she did it.
“She cannot be ruled out yet. She is practically the only person with no alibi for the times of the murders.”
“Do you believe she could have done it?”
Holmes looked at me as if I were totally insane. “Anyone could have done it, Watson. Our job is to rule out those who did not and to deduce who did.”
Sometimes I simply wanted to pummel Holmes until he could not speak those words of his that made me so want to scream in frustration. This was one of those times.
“So what do we do now?”
“I think I must visit the house again but not just yet. What did you think of Miss Emma?”
“She was much nicer than Lizzie but I am not sure she is telling the whole truth either.”
“You think she is protecting Lizzie?”
“Yes, but I am not sure it’s from murder charges or if she is simply protecting her from the world in general.”
“I thought as much. I am not sure she’d believe that Lizzie did it even if she were guilty.”
He ordered a light lunch of tea and some American apple pie. I noticed that he had grown rather fond of it. At least he was eating, which was better than he usually did when on a case.
After his tea and pie, he rose. “I am going to visit Mr. Borden’s properties here in town, to walk his daily walk and then I am going to retire to my rooms for the day.”
He was up to something but he didn’t need me to know or help him so I knew I needed to find some other way to entertain myself this afternoon. I did something terribly creative and exciting. I went to my room and took a nap.
My nap was not the peaceful respite that I had hoped for. I dreamed of hatchets and someone chasing Mary and myself through the streets of London. I don’t know if the dreams had meaning. I rather doubt they do though Dr. Freud in Vienna might argue with me. I tend to think they might more likely be a bad bit of food or gas in one’s stomach.
I woke in a cold sweat and Holmes banging on the door between our rooms.
“Watson! Are you all right?”
I got up and opened the door. He took one look at my rumpled state. “Bad dream?”
I nodded and stepped back so he could come all the way into the room.
“I walked around town. It would seem that our Mr. Borden was not liked very much in this town. I am not sure any of his detractors would have killed him but I found not one soul who liked him. Not one. And not many more who liked Miss Borden either. Even thought the family was very well off, she was considered to be a bit beneath those who lived in the more fashionable part of town.”
He sat down at my table and pulled out bits of this and that from his pockets.
“What is that?”
“Things I found under the basin in the cellar, among other places.”
One thing that seemed odd was a sliver of wood about 3 inches long.
“What is that?” I pointed to it.
“I think that it might be a piece of the hatchet handle.”
“The one in evidence?”
“No. The one that killed the Bordens. I didn’t find it in the cellar. It was in the floor of Emma’s closet. It has blood on it.”
“But Emma was not at home,” I said.
“Don’t you think Emma might have helped Lizzie if she thought Lizzie had committed the crimes?”
“I’m certain that she would have. She had no love for Mrs. Borden and I got the idea she wasn’t all that happy with their father either.” I knew the sister I met would do anything for her younger sister.
“This still does not prove it was Lizzie but it comes closer than anything I’ve seen,” he said as he turned sliver of wood this way and that. “Perhaps Lizzie hid it before Emma got home. The room had been Lizzie’s before they traded, giving Lizzie the larger room.”
“Do you think her lawyers are going to be happy to hear of this?”
“I told them I didn’t come here to find what they asked me to find but rather the truth of the matter instead. They may have to simply be satisfied with that.”
“They can’t defend her with bold faced lies though.”
“It is not them I plan to show my evidence to. I plan to confront Miss Borden if I deem that she is the guilty party. I want to see her face and hear her denial, for she will deny it to the very end.”
“Do you think Miss Sullivan knows?”
“Of course she does. She is fond of Lizzie and Emma and I believe that they have given her money to keep silent. How else could she afford new and fairly expensive clothing all of a sudden?”
“Will you confront her?” I asked Holmes.
“I think not. She was doing as she was told. It can’t be very easy for a poor immigrant girl to make her way in the world alone. She will defend Lizzie to the end, as will Emma.”
“Then even if you find evidence suggesting her guilt, Miss Borden will go free?”
“Probably.”
“Then I am ready to leave this one and go home. My wife has need of me and I have no love for this place. It seems oppressive by its very air.”
Holmes smiled. “I suspect that is the smoke from the factories. While we are used to smoke and fog in London, it is of a differing type than this. I believe Lizzie made a comment to you about how smoky and foggy London is.”
“Then I may count us lucky that she returned home when her visit was done.”
“Indeed you may.” Holmes gave me a gentle wave and was gone back to his own rooms.
~~
Author: Alex
Type: Gen
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: This story is based on a factual case. I do not own the Holmes characters.
Warnings: Description of brutal murders.
Beta: Larry, Larian, Luin
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mary Watson, Lizzie Borden.
Archive: Oeam, Archive of our Own, Alex’s Story Book
Author’s Note: This is my entry in the 1st annual OEAM Big Bang fiction challenge
Spoilers: Not really
Summary: What if Holmes had been asked to investigate the Borden murders?
~~~
Chapter Ten - Emma
Morning brought the post from New York and a letter from Mary.
My dearest John,
I miss you horribly but New York is a wondrous place. I just wish we were seeing it together instead of just me. Perhaps someday we can bring our son here to visit.
I am well. The morning sickness is not bad at all though I do tend to get weak if I don’t eat often enough. I swear that I can feel him growing already.
Your letters are fascinating though I am not sure that I’d like to meet Miss Borden. She sounds rather overbearing and not in a sometimes amusing way like Mr. Holmes. Do you think she killed her parents? How could anyone do such a thing?
I must go. It is time for dinner and I mustn’t keep my hosts waiting.
I love you and miss you so much.
Yours always,
Mary
I wanted to be with her so badly that it was nearly a physical pain. I laid her letter aside and ordered tea brought up with the morning papers. There was more of the same regarding Miss Borden and little else of interest to me.
I needed to speak with Miss Emma Borden now. Neither Holmes nor I had met her yet and even though she was not in Fall River when the murders occurred, she was no doubt the foremost expert on Lizzie Borden and the entire Borden household.
I had sent a note to her the day before and she agreed to speak with me at Mr. Jennings’ law offices. After breakfast, I made my way there to speak with her.
Miss Emma Borden was nine years older than Lizzie and looked even older than her early forties. She was actually much more pleasant than Miss Lizzie had been, which was quite a relief to me.
“Good morning, Dr. Watson. How may I help you? I am sure you know our tale almost as thoroughly as we do by now.”
“I have spoken with your sister and with Miss Sullivan. I simply wanted to ask you a few questions too.”
She nodded.
“You did not like your stepmother?” I decided to be blunt in my questioning.
“Not so very much, no. She always thought to be our mother and she simply was not. I remember our mother and did not ever want another after she was gone.”
“Was there trouble between your stepmother and your sister?”
“Nothing very recent. Lizzie and I both were angry when father bought that house for Mrs. Whitehead and gave his half to Mrs. Borden. This was about five years ago.”
“Was this why Lizzie stopped calling her Mother?”
“Lizzie will say no but I suspect that it really was the reason.”
“Why did your father wear Lizzie’s school ring?”
Emma sighed. “She gave it to him, put it on his finger and he simply never removed it. I cannot tell you why because only Lizzie and Father knew why.”
I wasn’t getting much from her. She was very protective of Lizzie; that much was obvious. I had read her inquest testimony and much of it seemed rehearsed, as if she were there simply to back up what Lizzie testified to.
Unfortunately Lizzie’s testimony was what got her indicted for the murders in the first place. She had given three different answers to the question of where she was when her father came home around 10:30 that fateful morning and there was still no clear answer in the record.
“Miss Borden, I have heard rumors that both you and Lizzie were angry with your father in the weeks before his death and that both of you were away from home because of that anger.”
Her face colored just enough to let me know that I had struck a nerve but I was right in thinking she’d never actually say such a thing.
“I know of no quarrel between Lizzie and Father.”
“Not even over the pigeons?”
“Pigeons?” She seemed surprised at the question. “Oh, you mean the birds Father killed in the barn? Why would Lizzie be angry?”
“I understood that they were her pets.”
“Nonsense! She fed them now and again but she did that to any creature that came into the yard.”
“Do you have any idea who killed your father and stepmother?”
“None, Dr. Watson. No idea at all.”
I thanked her for her time and let myself out of the room.
Emma Borden was certainly not like Lizzie. She was quiet and retiring, seemingly incapable of lying though I could see that perhaps she might get fierce in protecting Lizzie, who I’d been told that Emma considered more of a daughter than a sister. Had she been in Fall River at the time of the murders, she might have been the perfect suspect.
As I walked back to our hotel, I wondered where Holmes was and what he might be doing this day. I didn’t dare try to speculate, since it usually only got me into more trouble.
I ordered some lunch and read more of the morning papers while I waited to see what Holmes wished me to do next. Mr. Jennings was quoted as having brought in a famous detective from London to help find the killer and thus free poor, dear Lizzie from her unfortunate incarceration.
Some of the wealthy ladies of Fall River vowed to support Lizzie through thick and thin. I had to smile as I wondered if these were the same women who refused Lizzie admittance into their society since her father refused to play their games. How long would they stand with her when she wasn’t safely behind bars?
I was on my third cup of tea and contemplating something a little stronger when Holmes came dashing into the restaurant and rushed to my table.
“Watson! I have been looking for you.”
“Not very hard as I’ve been here for more than the past hour.”
“No matter. I have solved the case. I know who killed the Bordens and I am a long way toward figuring out why.”
~~~
Chapter Eleven - Tea and a Splinter
My jaw dropped at Holmes’ statement.
“Who?”
“Whoever washed themselves in the basin in the cellar.”
I sagged. Of course he didn’t mean the name of the murderer. Why would I have thought that?
“Why?”
“I believe that whoever killed Mrs. Borden may have killed Mr. Borden because they figured out that he would find out what had happened.”
“Was it Lizzie?” I had to ask if he thought she did it.
“She cannot be ruled out yet. She is practically the only person with no alibi for the times of the murders.”
“Do you believe she could have done it?”
Holmes looked at me as if I were totally insane. “Anyone could have done it, Watson. Our job is to rule out those who did not and to deduce who did.”
Sometimes I simply wanted to pummel Holmes until he could not speak those words of his that made me so want to scream in frustration. This was one of those times.
“So what do we do now?”
“I think I must visit the house again but not just yet. What did you think of Miss Emma?”
“She was much nicer than Lizzie but I am not sure she is telling the whole truth either.”
“You think she is protecting Lizzie?”
“Yes, but I am not sure it’s from murder charges or if she is simply protecting her from the world in general.”
“I thought as much. I am not sure she’d believe that Lizzie did it even if she were guilty.”
He ordered a light lunch of tea and some American apple pie. I noticed that he had grown rather fond of it. At least he was eating, which was better than he usually did when on a case.
After his tea and pie, he rose. “I am going to visit Mr. Borden’s properties here in town, to walk his daily walk and then I am going to retire to my rooms for the day.”
He was up to something but he didn’t need me to know or help him so I knew I needed to find some other way to entertain myself this afternoon. I did something terribly creative and exciting. I went to my room and took a nap.
My nap was not the peaceful respite that I had hoped for. I dreamed of hatchets and someone chasing Mary and myself through the streets of London. I don’t know if the dreams had meaning. I rather doubt they do though Dr. Freud in Vienna might argue with me. I tend to think they might more likely be a bad bit of food or gas in one’s stomach.
I woke in a cold sweat and Holmes banging on the door between our rooms.
“Watson! Are you all right?”
I got up and opened the door. He took one look at my rumpled state. “Bad dream?”
I nodded and stepped back so he could come all the way into the room.
“I walked around town. It would seem that our Mr. Borden was not liked very much in this town. I am not sure any of his detractors would have killed him but I found not one soul who liked him. Not one. And not many more who liked Miss Borden either. Even thought the family was very well off, she was considered to be a bit beneath those who lived in the more fashionable part of town.”
He sat down at my table and pulled out bits of this and that from his pockets.
“What is that?”
“Things I found under the basin in the cellar, among other places.”
One thing that seemed odd was a sliver of wood about 3 inches long.
“What is that?” I pointed to it.
“I think that it might be a piece of the hatchet handle.”
“The one in evidence?”
“No. The one that killed the Bordens. I didn’t find it in the cellar. It was in the floor of Emma’s closet. It has blood on it.”
“But Emma was not at home,” I said.
“Don’t you think Emma might have helped Lizzie if she thought Lizzie had committed the crimes?”
“I’m certain that she would have. She had no love for Mrs. Borden and I got the idea she wasn’t all that happy with their father either.” I knew the sister I met would do anything for her younger sister.
“This still does not prove it was Lizzie but it comes closer than anything I’ve seen,” he said as he turned sliver of wood this way and that. “Perhaps Lizzie hid it before Emma got home. The room had been Lizzie’s before they traded, giving Lizzie the larger room.”
“Do you think her lawyers are going to be happy to hear of this?”
“I told them I didn’t come here to find what they asked me to find but rather the truth of the matter instead. They may have to simply be satisfied with that.”
“They can’t defend her with bold faced lies though.”
“It is not them I plan to show my evidence to. I plan to confront Miss Borden if I deem that she is the guilty party. I want to see her face and hear her denial, for she will deny it to the very end.”
“Do you think Miss Sullivan knows?”
“Of course she does. She is fond of Lizzie and Emma and I believe that they have given her money to keep silent. How else could she afford new and fairly expensive clothing all of a sudden?”
“Will you confront her?” I asked Holmes.
“I think not. She was doing as she was told. It can’t be very easy for a poor immigrant girl to make her way in the world alone. She will defend Lizzie to the end, as will Emma.”
“Then even if you find evidence suggesting her guilt, Miss Borden will go free?”
“Probably.”
“Then I am ready to leave this one and go home. My wife has need of me and I have no love for this place. It seems oppressive by its very air.”
Holmes smiled. “I suspect that is the smoke from the factories. While we are used to smoke and fog in London, it is of a differing type than this. I believe Lizzie made a comment to you about how smoky and foggy London is.”
“Then I may count us lucky that she returned home when her visit was done.”
“Indeed you may.” Holmes gave me a gentle wave and was gone back to his own rooms.
~~