When I arrived once again at the inn, Holmes had resumed and completed his work with the burned paper and was seated in the armchair by the fire, sitting such that his knees were tucked under his chin. He glanced at me, dejection written all over his sharp features.
"Have you gained anything from these tests?" I inquired, though his expression told me it had not gone well.
Holmes gave a humourless laugh. "No method of which I am yet aware can restore burned paper. If only Mrs. Hudson had allowed me to finish this experiment months ago at Baker Street, I would not have squandered time on it now."
With my friend in this state of mind, I dearly hoped my news would improve his mood rather than worsen it.
I pulled the other chair closer to the hearth, so I was seated across from him. "I did learn something curious from Pattison, the post office woman."
Holmes, who had been staring moodily out of the window, looked up at me. "Yes?"
It seemed prudent to begin with the bad news. "In exchange, I told her about the baritsu theory of Hieman's incapacitation and murder," I said.
"Yes, yes," Holmes waved his hand. "It's of little importance and would have spread through the usual channels of gossip swiftly enough either way."
I breathed a sigh of relief. "In return, she told me something curious about Miss Hallstrom."
"Indeed?" Holmes gestured for me to continue.
"She is, in private, frequently visiting a friend with whom she has been on poor terms for quite some time."
Holmes waved his hand dismissively. "Young women often have such tumultuousness in their lives."
"That is what I thought at first as well," said I, "but have you ever heard of a young lady calling upon a friend for a matter of less than an hour, when it is over an hour round trip to get there? And never engaging in any social events together, only meeting in private?"
"Perhaps one or the other has become more reserved with age," said Holmes with impatience.
"That is not the impression I got from Mrs. Pattison," I replied, though I could not disagree with Holmes' assessment.
Holmes sighed. "Well, either way, it would seem to be the only lead we can act upon at the moment." He gestured in disgust to the burned papers. "While they give strong impressions, I cannot prove anything except that a J.C.W. was in communication with Albright before his death, especially as I am unable to decipher any more than that which you wrote in your notes."
I frowned. "You referenced my notes?" I checked my pocket, and my notebook was indeed gone from it.
Holmes closed his eyes and gestured to the nearby table where sure enough, my notebook rested. "It was unhelpful."
I retrieved it from the table and sat back down. "Pattison didn't know of any J.C.W.'s around here, unfortunately."
"No matter," replied Holmes. "They may not even be our culprit's real initials."
"What of the gun Albright sold?" I asked. "Can we prove nothing from that?"
Holmes shook his head. "I inquired at the gunsmith's shop, but it was rebuilt last year, having burned to the ground and all previous records lost."
"So we have no way of definitively proving that the revolver used to kill Albright was not his own." I sighed. "This case is turning into rather a knotty problem."
Holmes shrugged. "That lead was a shot in the dark. There would always be a chance he purchased a firearm far enough away we would not be able to track down record of the sale."
"I suppose so," I replied glumly.
Holmes sat upright, sliding his feet from the chair's seat to the floor. "Let us hope your gossip of Miss Hallstrom provides us with some new information or at least a new direction. Perhaps we can even learn her reasons for following Hieman on the train that fateful night."
So it was that we found ourselves once again on the way to Sac City, in hope that we would be able to convince Miss Lena Hallstrom to confide in us, and that what we learned would shed a little light into at least one of the many dark corners this case had to offer.
Upon arriving at the Hallstrom home, Holmes explained to the housekeeper and repeated to Mrs. Hallstrom that recent developments had left us with a question or two that we thought her daughter might be able to answer. It took some gentle persuasion, but after discussing the matter for a minute or two, the woman allowed us to speak to the young lady of the house.
Once the three of us were seated, Miss Hallstrom looked at us curiously for a moment before speaking. "I must confess I am surprised to see you both again so soon."
"We did not leave yesterday with any intention of returning, but developments in the intervening time have caused questions to arise to which I believed you might hold answers," replied Holmes.
"Very well," she replied.
I cut in before Holmes could launch into the matter at hand. "I must warn you," I said, ignoring Holmes' reproachful glance, "that the questions put may seem personal or arbitrary in nature, but rest assured we would not ask were it not in the interest of seeking justice." I extracted the notebook from my jacket and readied my pencil.
Miss Hallstrom nodded, but I noticed her hands begin to quiver when she saw I was prepared to take notes.
"Yes, thank you, Watson," said Holmes, in a tone more superior than grateful.
I quelled my indignation; now was not the time to dwell on such trivialities.
Holmes turned to the young woman. "Is there anything else you can recall about the final time you saw Mr. Hieman?"
She shook her head. "I am certain I told you all I know."
"Have you turned to any old friends in your time of distress?"
Miss Hallstrom frowned. "No. What sort of question is that?"
"An essential one," Holmes replied. "Are you certain of your answer?"
"I believe I am," she replied, brow furrowed with confusion.
"You have not sought comfort from an Amanda Meyer?"
In the space of a blink, Miss Hallstrom's jaw tightened and her eyes flashed. Then, as quickly as it came, the moment passed, and her expression was once again one of calm confusion. "I have visited Amanda several times lately, but I must confess it is out of duty rather than the desire for comfort. I owe her a favour; it's a silly thing, but I promised to take tea with her regularly while we heal the hurts dealt during our petty feud. I really have no desire to confide anything in her, but I should like to be on friendly terms."
"When was the first time you took tea with Miss Meyer for this reason?" Holmes asked.
"Oh, I couldn't say for certain," Miss Hallstrom replied. "Six weeks ago, or so."
"Less than two weeks before breaking off your engagement with Mr. Hieman?"
"Yes, but that has nothing to do with it."
Holmes' eyes dimmed with something which may have been sadness or even sympathy. "My dear, your eyes tell me otherwise." His voice was gentle and comforting, almost hypnotically so. It was a tone he utilised only when confronted with distressed women.
"Really!" said Miss Hallstrom, springing from her chair in anger.
"Very well," said Holmes. He was still gentle, but his patience was clearly waning. "Tell me, then, why it is so important to you that you rekindle, or at least maintain, the friendship you had with Miss Meyer?"
Miss Hallstrom began to pace. "Besides the favour I owe her, we were friends for years, and that is not something easy to cast aside completely, regardless of what happened afterward. Not to mention our mothers are friends, so it has been tedious to be on such poor terms."
I had to admit, her explanation was beginning to seem plausible indeed. I glanced toward Holmes, but his expression was inscrutable.
"I understand," said he. "I am sorry for having wasted all our time."
I felt my heart sink. I had only led us on a silly red herring and embarrassed a beautiful young lady to boot.
Miss Hallstrom ceased her feverish pacing. "I won't hold it against you," she replied, her formerly anxious face relaxing into a pleasant smile.
Holmes and I rose to our feet, and I followed Holmes as he approached the door. He placed his hand on the knob, but then stopped and turned to face the young lady.
"I think it might interest you to know that I am not obligated to share anything I learn with the local law enforcement or any other parties." Holmes turned the knob and made to open the door.
"Wait a moment!" she cried.