Dear Detectives,
The Mystery of the Murderous Portrait is no more! Thanks to your valiant effort, Edmund Hawthorne's odd death has been explained, and all rumors of a haunted painting can be laid to rest with him.
If there's any doubt in your mind as to what befell Mr. Hawthorne, then don't forget to read Holmes' thoughts on the case. In his usual style, he's kindly analyzed the evidence and lay out a clear path to our culprit.
Off to our afternoon tea...
The Dear Holmes Team
——
27 May, 1892
Dear Detective,
Thank you for your efforts to assist us in this matter so dear to our own Mrs. Hudson. This letter is to summarise the events that transpired in the murder of Edmund Hawthorne. For it was indeed murder, haunted as his illustration may appear to be.
The portrait at the heart of all this speculation, while perturbing in its faceless state, is merely unfinished. Despite the many different women who put their names forward to be the subject of the image, there was only one plausible subject– Mrs. Mathilde Hawthorne. In her initial plea for assistance, she described the portrait’s hands as “old and clean, with a wedding ring on the finger one would expect.” Yet none of the women who left their descriptions on Mr. Hawthorne’s ledger were married, as can be gathered from their titles on the visitors’ list. In addition to this, Starkey described his visitors as young women. And while I may not know the colour of Mrs. Hawthorne’s hair, I do know that none of the aspiring models had red hair. If that were not convincing enough, then you need look no further than the very portrait’s hair; hidden in its strands, on either side of the face, are the letters M and H.
Knowing that the portrait was of Mrs. Hawthorne, we can now begin to address the question posed to you at the start of this sordid affair: why did Edmund decide to paint a portrait despite his previous refusal to do so? The answer, a simple one I will add, lies in Mrs. Hawthorne’s first letter. In this letter, she laments the fact that, before her husband’s disappearance, they had been “a month shy” of their thirtieth wedding anniversary. Did you know that many consider pearls to be the appropriate gift for a thirtieth wedding anniversary? Not to mention, Hawthorne’s letter to Townsend suggests that the necklace was made using exactly thirty pearls, and that he had “planned for an additional, alternative gift.” Taken together, these facts suggest that Hawthorne intended the painting to be a gift, alongside a necklace of thirty pearls that was to be delivered by Townsend Delivery Services.
Putting aside what may feel like a victory, we must now answer the question of Hawthorne’s murderer. Who killed Hawthorne, and for what reasons? While he and the neighbouring sculptor, Starkey, shared a poor relationship, there was not any especially dangerous animosity to be found. There was also the matter of all the women, who, in light of Hawthorne’s refusal to paint them, each shared at least one frustration. Even still, to murder him would only ensure that they would never be the subject of a portrait of his.
I confess that I struggled to identify a plausible culprit for some time. It was not until reading Hawthorne’s complaint to Townsend, and again reviewing the list of young women, that I noticed a curious connection between the two, and a person who may have had the motive to kill our man. Miss Caroline Townsend is no doubt the daughter, if not just a relative of, her employer, Benedict Townsend. Working to deliver materials to Hawthorne would suggest frequent and fleeting meetings with him, and based on his letter, it seemed there was a courier who had been a previous, and repeated, source of conflict. In Hawthorne’s words, “despite repeated efforts to discourage their overfamiliarity,” someone from Townsend’s company was continuing to overstep bounds. So much so that he had determined to cease business with them before closing his studio and returning to London. I will return to this point, but let us first finish analysing Miss Townsend.
Suspicions against her are made worse by the fact that of the four women on the visitors’ list, she was the only one who did not appear to be surprised by the news of his death. And further, she was the only one of the four to refer to him familiarly, as Edmund, rather than Mr. Hawthorne.
Assuming her part in this crime, we are still left with the matters of motive and method. If this was in fact Miss Townsend’s work, then how and why did she cause Hawthorne to fall over dead from afar? It was not only confirmed that nobody fled from his room after the death, but also that Miss Townsend was working in an entirely different location during that time. This is easily explained by several details observed throughout the investigation, most of which pertain to Hawthorne’s paints.
The red paint being used by our victim was labelled as “Pale Crimson” yet it was repeatedly described as being dark in shade– a pale crimson would be quite the opposite of dark. This change in hue, along with the fact that the paint had been described as “caked”, and “thickened, coagulated?”, indicates to me that something was added to the paint. No doubt the arsenic uncovered in the examination of the paints.
One would think that the ingestion of the paint was a risk in this ploy, for it might have been easier to guarantee death if the poison was in his food or drink; however the taste would have been a more notable, and objectionable, aspect. By incorporating it into the paint, Miss Townsend could ensure that Hawthorne would slowly ingest small amounts of poison each time he placed his paintbrush in his mouth. This habit is common among painters, and we have plenty of evidence to deduce it was one Hawthorne possessed. Miss Brody described his lips as having a “vivid shade of red”, and traces of paint were observed on his breakfast and teacup, where he had put them to his lips. Considering his brushes were frayed when dry, and the infamous portrait, which contains many fine lines of hair, it would be reasonable to believe he was wetting the bristles in his mouth to create a fine point. The taste of the poison would not have been particularly out of place, if it was noticeable at all, unless he had an affinity for the taste of paints.
With regard to the “Why”, I suspect that this was a case of profound desire, and envy. Looking back at the evidence gathered, it is plain to see that the police report was correct– the incomplete letter found in Hawthorne’s room was in fact a draft of his message to Townsend. However, this early draft, found beneath a series of letters Hawthorne had received from his wife, gives a clearer picture of the “overfamiliarity” mentioned in his ultimate complaint. It reads “I expect to be the first to read any messages posted to me.” Perhaps he decided to spare Mr. Townsend the details of her intrusion, but in light of what we have unearthed, I believe Miss Townsend took the liberty of reading through Hawthorne’s letters, among other things.
My hypothesis follows: Elizabeth Townsend began her infatuation with Edmund Hawthorne after meeting him through her work as a courier for her family's delivery service; given his requests for a new courier, it seems her attraction to him was, at minimum, noticeable. This, he was willing to tolerate for some time, but upon perusing his letters and deliveries, Miss Townsend eventually discovered the plans he was making for his thirtieth anniversary. It was then that she decided to make a plea for his affection, forcing her way into his apartment and confronting him about the necklace order. This resulted in the incident where Starkey was said to have broken down the door. Hawthorne responded to this by writing his letter to Benedict Townsend, but in that time, Miss Townsend left an additional delivery, which included a bottle of Hawthorne’s preferred red paint, contaminated with the poison.
Practically speaking, the poison taking effect when it did is but a coincidence. The unfinished painting poses no danger beyond the poison that is contained within the red paint, thus, much to the disappointment of Mr. Starkey, there is no supernatural force at play here.
Now, I trust that local police will confirm the intricacies of Townsend’s scheme, but I am certain of her guilt. As such, I have informed Sergeant McNamara at the Clifford Street Station of my theory and, as of yesterday afternoon, Miss Townsend was taken into custody.
My dear Watson called on Mrs. Hawthorne to deliver the news this morning and I am told that she fainted, though he was able to revive her forthwith. As luck would have it, the pearl necklace from her husband had also arrived at her doorstep yesterday. She fervently insisted to Watson that this was a “sign from Edmund”, that he was at peace. After all her anger at the idea of spirits, Watson suggested there was no harm in nodding along to her own theory. Mr. Starkey, on the other hand, appears to be making a small name for himself in creating sculptures of haunting visages– so his penchant for the supernatural does not appear to have been too dampened. I do believe Mrs. Townsend has extended her apologies to him as well. I know not how he responded, although he has offered to send Watson and I busts of our likenesses for “70% of the usual rate”. I suppose that indicates satisfaction with our services. (I do not see us taking him up on such acts of vanity.)
Detective, we thank you for all your assistance in this case. Mrs. Hudson in particular has been quite relieved to know she has a network of assistance available to her should anything occur in the future. Your insight on this mystery was invaluable, and we will be certain to call on you should something arise again.
Kind regards,
