When Charlotte stepped out of the sanatorium gates, Russell was leaning against the carriage, gazing absently at the sky. The moment he saw her, he straightened his posture.
"Finished talking?" he asked casually.
"Mm." Charlotte's expression remained unchanged, revealing nothing unusual.
"What did Dr. Vanessa say to you? She was being awfully secretive."
"Nothing important," Charlotte replied. She opened the carriage door and climbed in with practiced ease. "We only discussed Charles's next treatment plan and a few academic questions related to psychology." She smoothly changed the subject, giving Russell no chance to probe further. "Let's head back to Baker Street. The Emily Collins case is still open."
Russell raised an eyebrow. He sensed something was off, but in the end he said nothing and simply followed her into the carriage.
The carriage rolled forward at a leisurely pace, carrying them away from the sanatorium and toward Baker Street. Russell leaned back against the cushions, yawned, and closed his eyes to rest.
Charlotte tilted her head and silently watched the cityscape recede rapidly outside the window.
Dusk was approaching when the carriage finally stopped at the entrance to Baker Street.
"We're here," Charlotte announced. Her voice pulled Russell from his nap.
"Mmm…" He yawned, stood up, and stepped down after her.
"We're home, Mrs. Hudson," Charlotte called as she pushed open the door.
"Russell and Charlotte?" Mrs. Hudson's voice floated out from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready."
When they entered the sitting room, the fireplace burned brightly and the dining table was set with steaming shepherd's pie and a fresh vegetable salad.
Charlotte did not sit down. She walked straight to the telephone.
"Hello, Mr. Lestrade," she said in her usual crisp tone after picking up the receiver. "Has the package arrived?"
Lestrade's exhausted voice came through the line. "It's here, it's here—right on your desk. I only just got back to Scotland Yard and haven't even had a sip of water yet."
"Those cigarettes are all cheap brands, sold by the hundreds every day down at the docks. If you're trying to trace where they came from, you might as well give up."
"I'll handle my own schedule," Charlotte said. "You should get some proper rest."
"I'd love to," Lestrade muttered resentfully before hanging up.
Charlotte replaced the receiver and returned to the dining table.
"Aren't you going to look at it?" Russell asked.
"No rush. The package isn't going anywhere," Charlotte replied. "We can talk after dinner."
Russell shrugged and continued eating.
After the meal, Mrs. Hudson stopped Russell as he began clearing the dishes.
"Leave it. I'll take care of everything. You two must have other things to do, don't you?"
"Go on, both of you. I can manage this much," she added.
"Well then, I'll leave the rest to you." Russell set the plates down, stood up, and followed Charlotte upstairs.
The documents Lestrade had sent were inside a thick file folder resting quietly on the table beside the envelope from Moriarty.
Charlotte stepped forward, picked up the folder, broke the seal, and dumped its contents onto the table. A thick stack of relationship reports on Emily Collins and an evidence bag containing several cigarette butts spilled out.
She picked up the report and skimmed through it quickly. It was exhaustive—Lestrade had included every conceivable connection to Emily Collins, even distant relatives in the countryside who had nothing to do with her.
Charlotte's eyes moved rapidly down the densely packed list of names and relationships, discarding everything irrelevant.
"Find anything?" Russell asked as he stood and walked over to the coffee beans. He began grinding them while the kettle heated.
"Not much of use," Charlotte said.
Emily Collins had been born in the countryside. She had two older brothers and one younger sister. After three years of schooling she began working—first as a part-time cleaner. Through an introduction from one of her employers she met Hannigan and naturally became a maid in his household.
"Sounds like a perfectly ordinary story," Russell remarked.
"It doesn't need to look extraordinary," Charlotte replied. "Because it is ordinary. We can say that Emily Collins's life before she started working at the Hannigan residence was completely unremarkable."
"What about her romantic relationships?" Russell pressed. "That's the most important part, isn't it?"
"She's had quite a few boyfriends," Charlotte said, casually flipping through the pages. "Lestrade publicly investigated at least five or six cases."
"She's quite the social butterfly, then." Russell raised an eyebrow. "Miss Emily Collins must be a very attractive woman."
"Most of them were only temporary affairs." Charlotte's lips curled in disdain as she tapped one of the men's files with her finger. "According to Lestrade's investigation, these men were either married with children or had already left London and cut off all contact with her."
"More than anything, it was a means of climbing the social ladder rather than genuine emotion."
"Higher status?"
"Exactly." Charlotte nodded. "Those five or six names are simply Lestrade's records of people who clearly lived with Emily Collins at some point. He added more entries based on his own inquiries and interviews."
"Let me guess… If they gained power, then the people listed here are not…" Russell gave Charlotte a questioning look.
"Her employer."
They spoke in unison.
"I already knew that." Russell shrugged and picked up the boiling kettle.
"You don't seem the least bit surprised," Charlotte observed, looking up at him.
"Isn't this sort of thing common in London?" Russell poured hot water steadily into the coffee filter. "A young, beautiful girl from the countryside wanting a shortcut to establish herself in the big city is perfectly understandable."
"Otherwise, why would her previous employer have introduced her to someone like Hannigan?"
"London has no shortage of proper domestic-service training institutions. If Hannigan wanted a skilled maid, he could simply go there and hire one."
Charlotte did not argue. She merely pushed the useless list aside and turned to a new page.
"So—when was Emily Collins's most recent confirmed romantic relationship?"
Russell placed the steaming cup beside her.
"If you mean someone with both a first and last name, it was about six months ago."
Charlotte lifted the cup and blew gently on the rising steam.
Russell understood her meaning and asked again. "And the ones without names or surnames?"
"Approximately two weeks ago."
…
…
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