OEAM Big Bang: The Case of the Yankee Spinster - Part Four

[alexs_storybook]

Chapter Seventeen – Lizzie Speaks

“She might have gone to her room and looked under her mattress for a hatchet that she’d gotten out in the barn a few days before. She checked to see that it was sharp. It was as she’d sharpened it when she’d retrieved it. Then she would go to her wardrobe and choose an old worn out dress to put on over her good dress, which was pulled up so it wouldn’t get blood on the hem or anywhere else. She put a cap over her hair and left for the guest room, where she’d heard Abby a few seconds before.”

“What was Abby doing?”

“She was dusting and cleaning for company.”

“Who was coming?”

“No one. Abby had gotten a telegram a few days before but no one was coming.” She stopped speaking for a second and looked Holmes in the eye. “Abby needed to be in that room, and so she was.”

I felt a chill run down my spine.

“This person saw Abby go into the guest room and waited a few minutes then stepped in behind her. Abby must have heard the sound the hatchet made because she turned at the last second and the hatchet caught her above the ear. She fell and this person sat straddle of her and kept hitting her head, even when her braid was chopped off and flew onto the bed. She had to make sure the old woman was dead.

“She pulled the door closed as she left the room and went to the cellar, where she washed her hands and face and took off the bloody dress. She wrapped the hatchet in it and took it back up to the bedroom and put it in the closet.

“All she had to do was wait for Father and finish him too. She ironed and read some magazines and waited for Father to come home for dinner. Maggie finished with the windows and they talked a bit. Father came home and she talked with him a bit too”

She paused and stared off into space. I wondered if she was seeing what had happened on that day. I wondered if she even cared.

She turned to me and I saw a big tear running down her face. “She loved him, Mr. Watson. She had loved him all her life but she was never sure that he loved her back. He had never let the young men who wanted to court her do so. He always called them worthless cads who only wanted her for her fortune. He had killed her birds too, had wrung their necks simply because he could and he knew there was not a thing she could do about it.

“And now he was going to set her out on the street and give that awful cow of a woman her house and her land. He was going to leave her and dear Emma penniless. She couldn’t let him do that.

“The rancid grease she’d slipped into the mutton stew had made them all sick, even poor Maggie, so she sent Maggie upstairs to take a quick nap before time to make dinner. Maggie was glad of it too, thanking her for her kindness.

“Father lay down because he was still feeling poorly from the stew too. He went to sleep rather quickly but he’d been up sick in the night and was very tired. When she saw he was asleep, she slipped back up to the bedroom but she couldn’t stand the thought of putting that bloody wet dress back on so she went back down with the hatchet and she took Father’s coat down and put it on, tucking her clean dress up under it.

“She stood behind him and raised the hatchet and giving him a mighty blow that cut all the way through his cheek and his eye. Then she gave him a few more. She needed to make sure he was dead, just like her birds. He’d showed them to her, heads all bloody from where their necks had been wrung.”

She stopped again and began to rock slowly back and forth. I started to move, to try to give her some comfort or some help but Holmes stopped me with a look.

“She took off his coat and put it under his head. She went down to the cellar to clean up and then she put her bundle in Emma’s closet, under the floorboards where she’d hidden things when it was her room.

“She called Maggie, who got help and it was done. She was safe from being set out in the street. They could never hurt her again.”

“Miss Borden, do you think she did anything wrong?” Holmes asked her.

“Do I? Of course I do but what else could she do?”

“Does Emma know?”

“Of course not! Emma is a lady and she’d die if she heard something so awful.”

Holmes finally stood and picked up the evidence and bundled it back up. “What about Lizzie?”

“She will be fine. She has Father’s money and she has Emma. She’ll be fine.”

“Do you think she should go to jail?”

“Why, Mr. Holmes, I thought you knew. She’s been in jail all her life anyway. Bars wouldn’t make much difference.”

Holmes held his hand out to her and kissed her hand then said, “Thank you for your time, Miss Borden. I do wish you the best. I think Dr. Watson and I shall be going home soon and may not see you again so I bid you goodbye.”

I was stunned but followed him from the cell with a mumbled goodbye to a woman who’d killed her parents with a hatchet and had felt not one single bit of remorse. I had no idea what he was thinking.

Maybe he was insane too.

~~~


Chapter Eighteen – New York Interlude

Holmes and I said little on our ride back to Fall River. What was there to say? Lizzie had indeed killed her parents and had done it with little remorse. She felt that what she did was perfectly reasonable and logical. Holmes actually had seemed to think so too, at least it seemed so in their last exchange.

Before we went into our hotel, I stopped him and asked, “What do we do now? Do we tell Robinson and the others?”

“I think we are bound to tell Mr. Robinson. He did hire us. I think we shall let him decide whether to tell Mr. Jennings or not. I suspect Robinson already knows anyway.”

“Did you ever doubt it?”

“Of course. I came here without an opinion. I hoped that she did not do it but as soon as I went to the house, I knew someone inside had done it. There were no traces of anyone else anywhere. I could find no evidence and no motive for the serving girl so that left Miss Borden.”

“Shall I arrange a meeting with Robinson?”

Holmes shook his head. “He’ll be around soon enough when he notices we’re not asking any more questions.”

“What shall we do?”

“Do you wish to go to New York for a day or two?”

“Yes, I’d love to go to New York and see Mary. Will you meet with Robinson alone while I’m gone?”

“I was thinking that I might go too. I may never come here again. Perhaps I shall find Mrs. Hudson a souvenir.”

The thought of Holmes playing tourist was more than I could take. I burst out laughing. Luckily, Holmes was rather thick skinned and did not take offense to my joking. We reserved our rooms for a few days and I contacted Mary by telegram, letting her and her hosts know that Holmes and I would be arriving within the day and would room in a hotel.

We left by train and arrived the next day in New York City.

Mary and the Turners met us at the train and we traveled to our hotel, a very nice one on Fifth Avenue. Mary would stay with me and Holmes would have an adjoining room. We would dine out on our first evening and do some sightseeing the next day.

When we got checked in and got to our room, Mary threw her arms around me.

“John, I’m so pleased that you decided to come for a few days. I have missed you more than I can tell you.”

I assured her that I had missed her more and we went on this way for quite some time before realizing that we were alone and dinner wasn’t for hours. We made the best of our time and were dressed in our best and ready for dinner when the Turners arrived to take us to Delmonico’s for dinner.

Dinner was elegant and delicious as we tried one of the namesake steaks, a Delmonico. Even Holmes ate fairly well. Since it was very cold, we decided to return to our hotel for the evening with plans to go out the next day.

“How much longer, John?”

“Hopefully, we only have a few more weeks. Miss Borden confessed to Holmes and myself. We have not yet told her lawyers but at the point we do, I think we will be done with our investigation and then we can return home and begin to search for that country home to raise our children in.”

“It sounds almost like a dream, doesn’t it?” She snuggled close to my side and we slept.

The next day we saw the sights, even the new luxury hotel that would be the ultra modern Waldorf–Astoria. It was getting close to completion as it was scheduled to open in March. It was going to be magnificent.

“We should come back here someday to celebrate our anniversary,” Mary whispered as we rode through the chilled city. Her fur seemed to be perfect for this trip. We even saw the Statue of Liberty as she beckoned those of all nations to embrace freedom. The statue was quite a beautiful sight, even if it was a gift from the French.

All too soon, it was time for Holmes and myself to return to Massachusetts and finish the job we had come to the Americas to do. We boarded a train and were back in Fall River fairly quickly.

Mr. Robinson met us at the train. He was rather red-faced as we disembarked.

“We didn’t pay you to vacation in New York, Holmes.”

“No, I paid for us to do that. Dr. Watson is a newlywed and was pining away for his lovely wife.”

“Does this mean you have concluded your investigation then?”

“It does indeed, Mr. Robinson, and if you’ll come around to my hotel room around four, I will tell you what we found out. You might want to leave your co-counsel at home this time.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that I should probably make my report to you alone, sir.”

Robinson still looked rather flustered but he agreed to meet us again later. We made our way to our rooms and got settled in and I had some tea brought up, along with some light fare to eat. I was ravenous for some reason. Perhaps it was the prospect of going home and finding a new home for Mary and our new family.

I made my way to Holmes’ rooms half an hour before the lawyer was due to arrive. I had decided to broach the subject of resigning as his associate when we got home. I couldn’t very well help him investigate from a country home, now could I?

“Holmes, Mary and I are thinking of moving to the country before the baby comes. We’d like to raise our child away from London. I’ll open a small practice and become a country doctor and we shall have some animals and a garden. You can even come visit us.”

Holmes looked at me as if I’d grown a third ear.

“You’ll be bored to death within the month!”

“I don’t think so. I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

“I won’t talk about it here. Wait until we get back to London.”

And that was it. Holmes was intractable when he made us his mind so I let it go.

For now.

~~~


Chapter Nineteen – The Final Report

Robinson was knocking on Holmes’ door promptly at four. I let him in and offered him a drink. He took it.

“Now tell me what is going on. All this secrecy and such is not giving me a good feeling about things.”

Holmes was pacing and smoking. It looked as if I was going to be the one who told Mr. Robinson what his client had told us.

“Mr. Robinson, in the days preceding our trip to New York, we found some disturbing evidence. Actually, Mr. Holmes found it as he searched the house again and again. First, he found a rather large amount of blood in and around the sink in the cellar.”

“That’s nothing!” Robinson rose from his chair.

“You must let me talk. There is more, much more.”

“All right but do remember I did not send for you to help send Lizzie to the gallows.”

“You claimed you wanted the truth. I can assure that what we have found is the truth. If it were not, we would never have asked you to come here alone.”

“Very well then but get to the point!”

“There is much to tell. After Holmes found the blood, he found a bloody splinter in the floor of Emma’s closet. The splinter looked to be about the length of a hatchet handle. Not satisfied, he went to the house one last time and took me with him.

“Under the boards in the floor of Emma’s closet, we found a bloody dress and a bloody hatchet head. The dress fit the description of one Lizzie might have been wearing that day.”

He made to speak but I held my hand up and continued. “Let me finish. We went to see Lizzie and showed her the dress and the hatchet. She confessed. She said she killed Abby then Mr. Borden later. She said that she was afraid her father was going to leave everything he had to Mrs. Borden and leave her and Emma penniless and homeless.”

Robinson sank back into his seat. “Dear God, I thought she probably had done it but I still hoped not. I cannot tell Jennings this unless it is Lizzie’s wish. He believes her to be the innocent victim of a bumbling police force and corrupt officials.”

“She was perfectly calm and seemed without remorse. Holmes seemed to feel some sympathy for her but I must say that I did not.”

“So now what?” Robinson asked me.

“That is up to you. Holmes has done what you paid him for. He investigated and found the truth. It is simply that: the truth.”

“Were her sister or the maid involved in any way?”

“We do not think so. I’m not sure they know the truth even now. It is possible that Lizzie has confessed to Emma but if so, it was certainly not until recently. Lizzie buried those things under the floor boards on the day of the murders. The room was once hers, after all, and she knew the hiding places even better than Emma would have.”

“You and Mr. Holmes may leave whenever you’re ready. I think you have found all the information that there is to find. I thank you and I will caution you not to tell anyone else what you’ve found.”

“We do not discuss our findings with others,” Holmes said rather coolly to the defense lawyer.

“I’ll need the evidence.”

“I think not, Mr. Robinson. I think I shall hang onto it for a bit. It will be returned to Fall River eventually but I think I’ll take it with me to London for the time being.”

Robinson stood up and slammed his fist on the table. “Dammit, you work for me.”

Holmes whipped around from where he stood at the window. “We did what we said we would. I think the evidence is too volatile for you to have at this time. I assume you are planning to continue as Miss Borden’s attorney. The last thing you need is evidence of her guilt in your possession. I am doing you a favor.”

“Very well but I do expect to get this evidence back from you someday.”

“You have my word on it.”

He stood and left the room. I went to my own room and began to make arrangements to sail home. We could finally leave this strange, cold town and go to a place that we understood, warts and all.

And I would be with Mary again. That was particularly cause for rejoicing on my part.

~~~


Chapter Twenty – Home At Last

We were home by the first of March.

Mary and I settled back into our routine though we did take the train out to the country to look at houses on my days off, when I had days off, a seldom occurrence. I was very busy in my surgery in those days, mainly because I wanted to make more money to afford that country home.

Mary was doing well but I had to caution her to rest more than she did. She insisted on keeping house and cooking with only a little help. We hired a neighbor girl but I think she actually spent more time talking to Mary than doing chores in the house.

Holmes busied himself with small cases for the most part, disappearing now and again to investigate a case not based in London. Sometimes I went with him but I tended not to want to leave Mary overnight.

Lizzie Borden’s trial opened on June 5, 1893 in New Bedford, Massachusetts and it still made the papers here in London. There was much speculation as to whether Miss Borden would testify on her own behalf. I doubted that she would.

The trial proved to be short in the extreme but it certainly did not lack sensational headlines and stories. Supposedly Mr. Moody for the prosecution was quite a showman as he wrapped Mr. Borden’s skull in one of Lizzie’s dresses and flung it out for a witness for the prosecution to test the ‘murder weapon’ in the actual wounds. Lizzie is said to have fainted. This was not the case. Lizzie had been escorted from the courtroom before her father’s skull was produced.

Lizzie’s supporters followed her every move and her cell was filled with flowers and cards from her supporters. I wondered what they’d do if they’d heard what she told Holmes and myself. I was sure Miss Borden was eating up all the attention she was getting. The odd thought even crossed my mind that perhaps this was why she did it. For the attention.

There were many strange testimonies at the trial. The lady warden at Fall River testified that she’d heard Lizzie and Emma quarrel and that Lizzie had accused Emma by saying, “You have given me away, haven’t you?” Later the woman said it didn’t happen but I wondered. Money can do many things to a person’s memory.

Eli Bence, a pharmacist, was supposed to testify that Lizzie tried to buy prussic acid from him to kill her parents. He had refused to sell her the dangerous chemical. The judges actually would not allow him to testify, citing that it had no bearing on the trial. I wondered why Lizzie had done this. Even she had to have known that she might have killed herself too if she used the dangerous gas. Arsenic would have a better poison, but perhaps Lizzie sought to throw suspicion away from what she really did by putting rancid grease in the stew, thus making her parents and Bridget sick.

The defense offered a varying tableau of people seeing other people who did not belong on Second Street and surrounding area that day from a pale young man, a tramp out in the country with a hatchet and other such things. They offered several witnesses who might have seen Lizzie go out to the barn at the time that her father was supposedly killed.

On the thirteenth day of the trial, the jury found Lizzie not guilty and that was that.

I wondered what Robinson had told Jennings. I had no doubt that Jennings thought Lizzie innocent.

I visited Holmes and asked him if he’d been following the trial.

“I have not but I’d wager they find her innocent.”

I told him they had already done so. “Holmes, you could have stopped this from happening.”

“Maybe I could have but I think that after the trial, Lizzie will have all the attention that she has so craved all these years and more. Without a murderer behind bars for the crime, many will think her guilty no matter what the courts say. The high and mighty of Fall River, who lent their support during her trial, will flee from her company now, not wishing to socialize with someone with such a spotted reputation.”

“Holmes, what did you do with the dress and the hatchet head?”

“They are sealed in a safe at my bank. After some time passes, I will send them to Mr. Jennings along with an explanation. I think he is the proper one to take care of them.”

“Do you think he will bring Lizzie’s guilt to light?”

Holmes shook his head. “No. He will protect her as he did in the past. But someone should know, someone other than just you, me and Robinson.”

I nodded, agreeing with him. I didn’t like Lizzie and her crimes were horrible, yet I still somehow saw her as a victim. It would appear that she had always wanted attention and to live like the other wealthy people in Fall River and both were denied her. Over time and possibly with the help of Emma, she came to blame Abby Borden for her problems. It only took the added fear of being set out in the street with no money or home that finally sent her over the edge.

Or perhaps that’s simply what she thought Holmes and I would believe.

Once the trial was over and the verdict in, Holmes and I never discussed it again.

As spring turned to summer, Mary was growing quite large with child and the heat was bothering her a great deal. Not wanting to spend the next month in the heat and filth of London, we rented a house in the country for the month of July and packed up.

It was a small stone cottage that was on the backside of a rather large estate that belonged to one of Mycroft Holmes’ acquaintances. There were a few farm animals penned up and the family dog even visited us from the mansion. Mary loved to sit outside in the evening and knit things for our child.

It wouldn’t be long until time for us to return to London and for our baby to be born.

~~~


Chapter Twenty-one – Sorrow Comes Calling

We moved back to London at the first of August. I wanted Mary to have the baby in the city, where her doctor was. She was fine with this too as she wanted some time to get the nursery ready.

I paid a visit to 221B Baker Street to see how Holmes was doing. Mrs. Hudson smiled as I entered.

“How is he, Mrs. Hudson?”

“He is Sherlock, Dr. Watson. He has good days and he has the other days. I count us lucky when he has a week with more good days than bad.”

“Is he working?”

“He has had some people come to talk with him but he seldom leaves the house so I am not sure, but I think he has a few cases. Lestrade has been by several times this summer. How is your Mary? It’s about time, isn’t it?”

“Only a few more weeks.”

“So are you wanting a girl or a boy?”

“I have no preference but I think Mary would like a little girl to dress up all in baby finery and such.”

Mrs. Hudson sighed. “I do wish Mr. Hudson and I had had some children. But it was not to be. I guess I have Mr. Holmes to take care of instead. Now off with you. Go see him before I get maudlin and cry!” She shooed me up the stairs.

Holmes was at his chemicals. The room smelled to high heaven.

“What are you doing?”

“Making explosives.”

“What?” I started for the door.

“They won’t explode unless the ingredients are combined.”

“Why are you making explosives?”

“There was a robbery and explosives were used. I am trying to determine what sort. I am working for Lestrade.”

“Working for Lestrade, you say?” I couldn’t help but smile. He never missed a chance to insult the policeman and here he was, working for him yet again.

Suddenly Mrs. Hudson ran into the room without knocking. She handed me a note. “It’s from the doctor. Mary has gone into labor and you are requested at home immediately!”

I hurried from the house and back to my own. I almost expected to be met by a smiling doctor with a new baby wrapped in his arms but such was not the case.

“John, there is something the matter. She is bleeding and I cannot make it stop. I’d like to move her to the hospital but I am not sure we can. I’ve sent for equipment and medicines but I -”

“You cannot let anything happen to my wife!” I roared at him. “She is my life!”

“Go see her, John. I will do what I can.” I had known him for several years and we were friends. Later I realized how hard this had to be for him but at that moment, all I knew was my own pain.

I went into the bedroom and she lay there as pale as death already. I knew then that the doctor was telling me the truth. I would lose my dear Mary, no matter what I did.

“Oh John, I’m so sorry!” She was crying. “I never thought – I didn’t want – John, I don’t want to leave you!”

“Shhh, it’s all right. You’ll be fine.” I knew I was lying as I said the words. So did she.

“John, I don’t have a lot of time. The baby, you must find someone to help raise her. Will you name her for my mother? Her name was Alice. Promise me!”

“I promise. Mary, you can’t leave me. I’ve just now found you!”

An hour later, Mary Alice Watson was born. I held her in my arms and showed her to her mother. Mary smiled at me. I could see she was fading away. She had lost too much blood.

“Oh John, she’s so beautiful. Take care of her and tell her that I love her more than anything but you. Please tell her that!”

I nodded, not able to speak.

“I love you, John. I – ”

And she was gone. Just like that, she was gone.

I looked down at my tiny daughter who looked just like her mother. “Hello, little Mary Alice. I’m so sorry that your mother will not be here to dress you in frills and to see you grow up, but I am here and I promise to love you with all my heart.”

When I rose from the chair to take Mary Alice to feed her and bathe her, Mrs. Hudson was in the other room. She came to me and put one hand on my shoulder. She didn’t say a word.

She ran a warm bath and went to the nursery to find a suitable gown for the baby. Mary had already stowed some baby bottles for she thought the new trend toward feeding babies a formula made from cows’ milk was a good idea as a standby. I was glad she had done this for we had something to feed my poor little daughter as she began to cry.

I wanted to be with the baby but I felt compelled to see to Mary.

Mrs. Hudson spoke. “John, do what you need to do. I can care for little Mary Alice for you until you return.”

And so I did.

I sent for the mortician and made funeral arrangements. I went with the mortician when he came to fetch Mary and was gone for quite some time before I even remembered Mary Alice at home.

When I returned, the baby was asleep in her crib and Mrs. Hudson sat in the chair beside her, asleep also. I put a blanket over Mrs. Hudson and went to clean up my own room. It had been done and the bed was made up in clean sheets. My pajamas had been laid out for me as well as my dressing gown.

The next few days will always be a blur in my memory.

My brother came but it was the presence of Holmes that I remember most. He never said anything but he was there, quietly smoking his pipe and watching. I was actually surprised to see him at all. He had never even liked Mary.

~~~


Chapter Twenty-Two – At the End of the Day

After Mary died, Mary Alice and I moved back into 221B Baker Street with Mrs. Hudson and Holmes. This time I had rooms downstairs for there was another family member with me this time and we each needed a room. Mrs. Hudson was thrilled to have a baby in the house and spent much of her time caring for my infant daughter. I welcomed her love and caring. We became an unconventional but very happy family for many years.

I kept my surgery but I began working with Holmes again too. I also began to write accounts of our adventures and I sold them to a magazine called The Strand. People read them and actually liked them enough to call for more. Much to Holmes’ dismay, I was happy to oblige them. The pay was not bad and I immensely enjoyed the writing of them.

My stories made Holmes more famous than he already was. People read of his exploits as far away as the United States, where he also became quite popular. I got letters from all over the world and I understand that people even sent letters to 221B Baker Street long after we all moved on to other places.

Some of the stories were based on truth and represented cases we had worked on and some were simply composites of several of our investigations. There were even a few so far fetched that they had to be made up from beginning to end. Holmes urged me every week to stop writing them but I ignored him.

There was one story I never wrote until now. That was the story of Miss Borden and the Fall River murders of her father and stepmother. That was the single most disturbing of all our cases and I never felt that we had done the right thing. Even now, I think Miss Borden should have paid for her crimes and I never really understood why Holmes felt she’d paid enough, and I never dared to ask him.

I often thought of Miss Borden through the years and was amazed that the interest in her case never did quite subside. Many books were written about it, ranging from the serious to the silly. I suppose it was because the crime was never solved or, at least, never solved publicly. Very few people knew the truth and it wasn’t my tale to tell so I simply never wrote it down until now.

A year or so after the trial, Holmes sent the evidence to Mr. Jennings in a box, along with a note explaining all the circumstances including Miss Borden’s confession. I read later that Jennings had placed the material in a locked crate and forbad even his children to open it after his death. He never contacted Holmes at all, before or after Holmes sent him the evidence. I often wonder if he, too, knew all along that she was guilty.

What happened to Holmes? He worked cases for many years with me at his side. He became almost as famous as the Queen herself, thanks in no small part to my stories. He never seemed to change much or to age very much either until one fine summer day, he told me that he was retiring and taking up beekeeping. I was surprised, to say the least.

I actually didn’t believe him but apparently he was telling me the truth. The last I heard from him in person was a letter telling me that he had married a young woman and they were doing some investigating on their own. I can never imagine Holmes with a wife.

A few years ago, his wife contacted me and told me that he had died peacefully in his sleep. She said he had spoken of me daily during the years she knew him and she wished that we’d met.

I invited her to dinner and I must say that Holmes married a delightful woman. She seemed to have been very fond of my old friend. She said that since she did not have children, Holmes had asked her to give his property to my Mary Alice and her children when she no longer needed it.

Her name was also Mary.

*

Many years have passed since that awful year, 1893.

I am an old man now with grandchildren and great grandchildren. I live in the country, in a little stone house on the back side of an estate. I have a few chickens and a cow that I get eggs and milk from. I am the sometime caretaker of the estate as well as a part time country doctor. I am content in my quiet life. There is little excitement or little to surprise me here but I have had enough of that for a lifetime.

I am happiest when Mary Alice visits. She is still the light of my life. She always brings the hustle and bustle of her own life with her. She tells me I should return to London with her and I always tell her I am fine right where I am.

And she still looks like her mother.

The End



Sources:
Here are some and websites that gave me valuable information:

http://www.norwayheritage.com/ - Norway Heritage – Hands Across the Sea –I got much valuable information and listings of passenger ships for 1893.

http://lizzieandrewborden.com/ - The Lizzie Andrew Borden Virtual Museum and Library – A wonderful resource for information, original documents, photos and much, much more. I could not have written this story without this resource.

http://law2.umkc.edu/faculty/projects/ftrials/LizzieBorden/bordenhome.html - The Lizzie Borden Trial – Another great website for evidence and original documentation.

http://www.sherlockholmeswiki.com/ - The #1 Sherlock Holmes Fan Site – a wonderful site for all things Sherlock.

The Complete Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

A Private Disgrace: Lizzie Borden by Daylight – Victoria Lincoln – Not sure I agree with everything she says but she does bring up some interesting points.

Lizzie Didn’t Do It – Williams Masterson – Anothjer rather bizarre Lizzie book but again, he as some interesting points.

The Borden Tragedy – Rick Geary – A true crime graphic novel, an excellent little synopsis of the case in comic form.

I used Wiki and many historical sites online to find out about 1893 New York City and Fall River, Massachusetts.