A Mr. Sherlock Holmes
After I received my MD from the University of London in 1878, I went to Netli to study the compulsory courses of military medicine. Immediately after I finished my course there, I was sent to the Fifth Musket Regiment of Northumberland as a paramedic assistant. The regiment was stationed in India at the time. Before I could reach the troops, the second Afghan campaign broke out. When I landed in Mumbai, I heard that the unit to which I belonged had crossed the mountain pass and advanced forward, deep into enemy territory. Nevertheless, I followed a group of officers who had fallen behind like me and arrived safely at Kandahar. I found my regiment there and immediately took up my new post.
This campaign brought promotions and honors to many people, but only misfortune and disaster to me. After I was transferred to the Buck State Brigade, I joined the brigade in the fierce battle of Maiwande. In this battle, I was shot in the shoulder by a Tezel bullet, which shattered my shoulder bone and bruised the artery under my collarbone. (1) If it were not for my loyal soldier Murray, who had grabbed me and threw me on the back of a pack horse, and brought me safely back to the British position, I would have fallen into the hands of the cruel Gagis. ②
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(1) The Tezel is the name of a bulky Afghan gun. - Translator's Note
(2) Muslim soldiers. - Translator's Note
The trauma made me feel sick, and the long toss and turn made me even weaker. So I was taken to the rear hospital in Boschul, along with a large number of wounded. There, my health improved considerably, but by the time I was able to move around the wards a little, and even bask in the sun in the corridors for a while, I fell ill again and contracted typhoid fever, the hapless disease of our Indian possessions. For months, I was unconscious, dying. Finally I regained my senses and gradually recovered. However, after the illness, my body was very weak and haggard, so after consultation with the doctor, it was decided to send me back to England immediately without delay. So I was sent home on the troop carrier Orentiz. A month later, I landed at the docks in Portsmouth. By then, my health was so bad that it was almost impossible to recover. However, the kind government gave me nine months of vacation so that I would be able to maintain my body.
I have no relatives or friends in England, so I am as free as air; or as free as a man who earns eleven shillings and six pence a day. In this case, I was naturally drawn into the great cesspole of London, where all the nomadic slackers of the British Empire were gathered. I lived in an apartment on London's Riverside road for some time, living a life that was both uncomfortable and very boring, and the money ran out as soon as it arrived, greatly exceeding what I could afford, so my financial situation became very panicked. I soon saw it: I had to leave the metropolis and move to the countryside; or I had to change my way of life completely. I chose the latter option and decided to leave the apartment and find a less luxurious and less expensive place to live.
On the day I decided to do so, I was standing in front of the Clytellian bar when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I looked back and it turned out to be little Stanford. He was an assistant when I was at Bartz. In this vast city of London, it is indeed a very pleasant thing to meet an acquaintance for a lonely person. Stanford wasn't a particularly good friend of mine that day, but now I greeted him warmly. He seemed happy to see me too. In ecstasy, I immediately invited him to Houben's restaurant for lunch, and we went by car together.
As our car wandered through the lively streets of London, he asked me, startled, "Watson, what have you been doing lately?" Look at your yellow muscles, only a handful of bones are left. ”
I briefly recounted my dangerous experience to him. Before I could finish my words, we reached our destination.
After hearing about my misfortune, he said pityingly, "Poor fellow! What are you going to do now? I replied, "I want to find a place to live, and I plan to rent a few less expensive and more comfortable houses, and I don't know if this problem can be solved." ”
My partner said, "It's a strange thing, today you're the second person to say that to me." ”
I asked, "Who's the first one?" ”
"It's a guy who works in a hospital laboratory. This morning he was still sighing, for he had found several good houses, but the rent was so expensive that he could not afford to live alone and could not find anyone to share with him. ”
I said, "Well, if he's really looking for someone to live with, I'm the one he's looking for." I think it's better to have a companion than to live alone. ”
Little Stamford looked at me in shock from his glass and said, "You don't know Sherlock Holmes yet, or you might not want to be a long-time companion with him." ”
"Why, is there something bad about him?"
"Oh, I'm not saying there's anything bad about him. He was just a little eccentric in his thinking—he was always working tirelessly on some science. As far as I know, he's a very decent guy. ”
I said, "Maybe he's a medical student?" ”
"No, I can't figure out what he's working on. I believe he was good at anatomy and a first-rate pharmacist. However, as far as I know, he never studied medicine systematically. What he studied was very cluttered, unsystematic, and very disjointed; but he had accumulated a great deal of eccentric knowledge which was enough to surprise his professors. ”
I asked, "Didn't you ever ask him what he was working on?" ”
"No, he doesn't speak his mind easily, although when he's happy, he's also very talkative."
I said, "I'd rather meet him." If I'm going to live with someone else, I'd rather live with someone who is studious and calm. I'm not very strong now, and I can't stand the noise and stimulation. I've had enough of that in Afghanistan, and I don't want to suffer it again in my life. How can I meet this friend of yours? ”
My companion replied, "He must be in the laboratory now." He either didn't go for a few weeks or worked there from morning to night. If you wish, let's take a ride after dinner. ”
"Of course I do!" I said, so we moved on to something else.
On our way out of Hoben for the hospital, Stanford told me some more details about the gentleman.
He said, "Don't blame me if you can't get along with him." I had only run into him by chance in the laboratory and knew him a little; besides, I knew nothing about him. Since you yourself have proposed to do so, don't put me in charge. ”
I replied, "If we can't get around, it's easy to break up." I stared at my companion with my eyes and continued, "Stanford, I see that you seem to be holding back on this matter, and there must be a reason for it. Is this person's rise really that terrible, or is there some other reason? Don't swallow like this. ”
He smiled and said, "It's not easy to put indescribable things into words." I think Holmes is a little too scientific, almost cold-blooded. I remember one time he took a handful of plant alkalis to his friend to taste. You know, it's not out of malice, it's just a motivation to study and get a proper understanding of the different effects of the drug. To be fair, I think he would have swallowed it himself. It seems that he has a strong interest in exact knowledge. ”
"This spirit is also right."
"Yes, but it's too much. Later, he even beat the corpse with a stick in the dissection room, which was a strange thing after all. ”
"Whip the corpse!"
"Yes, he is here to prove what kind of scars a person can inflict after death." I've seen him whipp a corpse. ”
"Didn't you say he wasn't a medical student?"
"Yeah. God knows what he's studying. Now that we've arrived, what kind of a person he really is, you see for yourself. He said, and we got out of the car, walked into a narrow alley, entered through a small side door, and came to the side building of a large hospital. It was a place I was familiar with, and without anyone leading us up the white stone steps, through a long corridor. The walls of the corridor were whitewashed, and there were many small dark brown doors on either side. At the end of the corridor there is a low arched aisle that leads to the laboratory.
The laboratory is a tall room with countless wives on all sides. Several short, large tables lined up, with many distillation bottles, test tubes, and some small Bunsen lamps flashing blue flames. There was only one man in the room, and he sat at a table farther away, crouching down on the table and working intently. He heard our footsteps, looked back, and then jumped up, shouting happily, "I found out!" I found out! He shouted to my companion as he ran toward us with a test tube in his hand, "I found a reagent that can only be precipitated with blood-colored proteins, nothing else." "Even if he had discovered the gold mine, he would not necessarily have been happier than he is now."
Stanford introduced us: "This is Dr. Watson, this is Mr. Holmes. ”
"Hello." Holmes said warmly, while holding my hand vigorously. I couldn't believe he had such strength.
"I can see that you have been to Afghanistan."
Surprised, I asked, "How do you know?" ”
"It's nothing," he smiled wryly, "and now we're going to talk about blood-colored proteins." No problem, you must have seen the importance of my discovery, right? ”
I replied, "Chemically, it's certainly interesting, but in terms of practicality..."
"How, sir, this is the most significant discovery in practical forensic science in recent years. Don't you see that this reagent can make us foolproof in identifying blood stains? Please come over here! "He hurriedly grabbed my cuffs and dragged me to the front of the table where he used to work." Let's get some blood," he said, puncturing his finger with a long needle and sucking the blood with a straw.
"Now put this little bit of blood into a liter of water." You see, this mixture is no different from water. Blood makes up less than one part per million of this solution. Still, I'm sure we can get a specific response. With that he put a few white crystals into the container, and then added a few drops of transparent liquid. After a while, the solution appeared dark red, and some brown particles gradually precipitated to the bottom of the bottle.
"Ha! Ha! He clapped his hands and shouted gleefully like a child getting a new toy, "What do you think?" ”
I said, "It looks like a very sophisticated experiment." ”
"Wonderful! It's amazing! In the past, the method of testing with Guaiac wood liquid was both difficult and inaccurate. The method of using a microscope to test blood cells is also not good. If the blood stains have dried for several hours, it will not work if they are examined with a microscope. Now, whether the blood stain is old or new, the new reagent seems to work the same way. If this experimental method had been discovered earlier, the hundreds of sinners who had escaped justice in the world would have been punished by law long ago. ”
I murmured, "That's right! ”
"Many criminal cases often depend on this. Perhaps a suspect will be identified months after the crime was committed. After examining his shirt or other clothing, he found brown spots on it. Were these spots blood, mud, rust or juice, or something else? This is a question that has embarrassed many experts, but why? It is because there is no reliable test method. Now that we have the Sherlock Holmes test, there will be no difficulties in the future. ”
When he spoke, his eyes looked bright. He pressed a hand to his chest and bowed, as if to thank many imaginary spectators who were applauding.
I was shocked to see his excitement, and I said, "I congratulate you." ”
"Last year there was a case of von Petshof in Frankfurt. If this method of testing had been available at that time, he would have been hanged long ago. There was also Mason in Bradford, the infamous Moller, Lofi-Wo in Maumberlier, and Simson in New Orleans. I can cite more than twenty cases, and in those cases this method will play a decisive role. ”
Stanford couldn't help but laugh as he said, "You seem to be a living dictionary of crime cases." You could really start a newspaper called 'Police News Old Record'. ”
"It must be fun to read a newspaper like this." Holmes, as he put a small piece of eraser on the crack of his finger, said, "I have to be careful," and he turned his face to smile at me, and then said, "Because I am in constant contact with poison." With that he held out his hand to show me. I saw that his hands were almost covered with the same size of plaster, and due to the erosion of strong acid, his hands had changed color.
"We're coming to you for something," said Steinfer, sitting on a three-legged stool, and pushing the other stool to my side with his foot, and then said, "My friend is looking for a place to stay, because you are complaining that you can't find someone to live with, so I want to introduce you two." ”
Holmes seemed pleased to hear that he was going to live with me, and he said, "I have a crush on an apartment-style house on Baker Street, which is perfectly suitable for both of us." Hopefully, you don't hate the strong smell of tobacco. ”
I replied, "I always smoke a 'boat' brand cigarette myself." ”
"That's great. I often do some chemicals, and occasionally do experiments, don't you hate it? ”
"Never."
"Let me think—what other shortcomings do I have? Sometimes I'm in a bad mood and don't open my mouth for days; in this case, don't think I'm angry, but listen to me naturally, and soon it will be fine. Do you have any drawbacks to mention? Before two people live together, it is best to understand each other's biggest shortcomings. ”
Hearing him ask the question like this, I couldn't help but laugh. I said, "I have a little tiger-headed dog." My nerves were stimulated and I was most afraid of noise. I don't know what time to get up every day and I'm very lazy. I had some other bad habits when I was in good health, but these are the main drawbacks at the moment. ”
He asked eagerly, "Do you count the violin in the noisy range?" ”
I replied, "It depends on the violinist." If the violin is played well, it is really as beautiful as fairy music, if it is not played well..."
Holmes smiled happily and said, "Ah, that's fine. If you're still happy with that house, I think we can think of it as settled. ”
"When are we going to see the house?"
He replied, "You'll come here to me at noon tomorrow, and we'll go together and decide everything." ”
I shook his hand and said, "Well, I'll see you on time tomorrow at noon." ”
While we were leaving, he was still busy doing chemistry experiments. Stanford and I walked together to the apartment where I was staying.
"By the way," I suddenly stopped, turned my face to Stanford and said, "heck, how would he know I'm coming back from Afghanistan?" ”
My companion smiled meaningfully and said, "That's what makes him special." Many people want to know exactly how he saw the problem. ”
"Cough, isn't that mysterious?" I rubbed my hands and said, "That's funny. I'm thankful that you took the two of us together. You know, it's really 'the most appropriate way to study human beings or to start with specific people'. ”
"Well, you must study him," Said Steinfer as he said goodbye to me, "but you will find that he is such a difficult figure to study." I can guarantee that he knows you much better than you do. Goodbye! ”
I replied, "Goodbye!" "Then I walked slowly towards my apartment, and I thought this new friend I had made was very interesting.
II. Deductive method
According to Holmes's arrangement, we met again the next day and went to see the house at Baker Street B, which he had talked about at the last meeting. The house has two comfortable bedrooms and a spacious and airy living room, which is furnished to make people feel pleasant, and there are two large windows, so the house is full of light and very bright. The rooms were a delight in every way. After we sublet, the rent is more appropriate. So we closed the deal on the spot and rented it out immediately. That night, I packed my bags and moved in from my apartment. The next morning, Holmes followed suitcases and travel bags. We opened our bags, set up the furnishings, and kept busy for a day or two. After making the best arrangements as possible, we gradually settled down and became familiar with this new environment.
To be honest, Holmes was not a difficult person to get along with. He was quiet and had regular habits. It is rare to not sleep after ten o'clock every night. In the morning, he always went out after breakfast before I got up. Sometimes he spent the whole day in the laboratory or in the autopsy room; occasionally he walked farther away, as if in the slums of the City of London. When he was happy to work, no one could match his exuberant energy; but often a contrary force would rise, lying on the sofa in the living room all day, from morning to night, almost without a word, motionless. Whenever this happens, I always see a look of confusion in his eyes. If it weren't for the rigor and moderation of his daily life, I would have suspected that he had an addiction to taking narcotics.
As the weeks passed, my interest in him as a person and my sense of purpose in his life grew. His appearance and appearance are enough to attract attention at first glance. He was more than six feet tall, and his body was unusually thin, so he appeared exceptionally long; his eyes were sharp (except when he was dazed); his slender hooked nose made his appearance particularly alert and decisive; his jaw was square and prominent, indicating that he was a very persevering man. Although his hands were speckled with ink and chemicals, his movements were unusually skillful and careful. Because he was fiddling with the delicate and fragile laboratory testers, I used to observe him from the side.
If I admit that Holmes is a man who has greatly aroused my good heart, and that I have always tried to break through his barrier of silence that does not talk about himself, then the reader may think that I am an incurable and troubled ghost. But before you come to this conclusion, think about how empty and boring my life is, and how tired the things that attract my attention are. Unless the weather was particularly sunny, my health did not allow me to go outside, and I did not have any friends to visit, which was enough to break my monotonous daily life. In this case, I naturally became extremely interested in the little secret that surrounded my partner, and spent most of my time trying to expose it.
He wasn't studying medicine. In answering one of my questions, he himself confirmed that Stanford was correct on this point. He did not study any discipline for the purpose of obtaining a scientific degree, nor did he take any other general approach that enabled him to enter academia. Yet his enthusiasm for the study of certain aspects was astonishing; in some of the most eccentric areas of knowledge, his knowledge was unusually profound, and as a result, he often spoke astonishingly. To be sure, a man would never have worked so hard to acquire such precise knowledge, if it were not for some certain purpose. Because people who are aimless, who have no books and do not read, their knowledge is difficult to be very superb. No one would be willing to expend energy on many minor stubs unless it was for some good reason.
The weary side of his knowledge is as astonishing as the rich side of his knowledge. He knows almost nothing about modern literature, philosophy and politics. When I quote Thomas Carlisle, he foolishly asks me (1) who Calleel really is and what he did. What surprised me most was that I had stumbled upon a complete understanding of Copernicanism and the composition of the solar system. When a man of knowledge did not know the truth that the earth revolved around the sun in the nineteenth century, it was a strange thing that I could not understand.
He saw my surprised look, smiled unconsciously and said, "You seem to be surprised." Even if I knew it, I would try to forget it. ”
"Forget it!"
He explains, "You know, I think the human brain is like an empty little attic, and you should selectively put some furniture into it. Only a fool would fit all kinds of crap and miscellaneous pieces he encountered into it. In this way, the knowledge that was useful to him was squeezed out; or, at best, mixed with many other things. Therefore, it is difficult to access it. So a man who can work is indeed very careful when he chooses to put something into his little attic-like mind. He brings nothing with him except the tools that are useful at work, and these tools are all available and methodical. It would be a mistake to think that the walls of this small attic are elastic and can be stretched and contracted at will. Believe me, one day, as you add new knowledge, you'll forget what you've learned before. So the most important thing is not to let some useless knowledge squeeze out the useful. ”
(1) Thomas Carlyle (-): British essayist, historian and philosopher, author of books such as Heroes and Hero Worship. - Translator's Note
I argued, "But that's the problem of the solar system!" ”
He interrupted me impatiently, "What does this have to do with me?" You say we walk around the sun, but even if we walk around the moon, what does that matter to me or to my work? ”
I was almost about to ask him what his job was, and I could see from his attitude that the question might upset others. So I thought about our short conversation and tried to draw some inferred clues from here. He said that he was unwilling to pursue knowledge that had nothing to do with what he was studying, and that all the knowledge he possessed was, of course, useful to him. I listed in my mind the disciplines he knew particularly well, and wrote them down in pencil. After writing it, I couldn't help but laugh. It turned out to be like this:
Sherlock Holmes's range of knowledge:
1． Literary knowledge – none.
2． Philosophical knowledge – none.
3． Astronomical knowledge – none.
4． Political science knowledge - shallow.
5． Botanical knowledge – not comprehensive, but for alfalfa preparations and opium
But it knows a lot. There is a general knowledge of the agent, but for the practical
Horticulture was unknown.
6． Knowledge of geology – practical, but also limited. But he did it at a glance
Can distinguish between different soils. He had splashed on after returning from a walk
The mud spots on his pants showed me and could be based on the face of the mud spots
The color and solidity illustrate where to splash in London.
7． Knowledge of chemistry – profound.
8． Anatomy knowledge – accurate, but not systematic.
9． Thrilling literature — so vast that he seems to have taken place in the middle of nearly a century
All the horrors are well known.
10． The violin was played very well.
11． Good at making sticks, but also good at sword and boxing.
12． He has sufficient practical knowledge of English law.
I wrote these articles and was disappointed. I threw it in the fire and said to myself, "If I connect these skills one by one in order to find an industry that needs all of them, but it turns out that I can't figure out what this dude is doing, then I might as well give up this attempt right away." ”
I remember mentioning his ability to play the violin earlier. He played the violin very well, but like his other skills, there were some oddities. I know he can pull some tunes, and they're still hard to play. Because at my request, he used to play a few mendelssohn's short songs and some of his favorite tunes for me. But when he is alone, he rarely pulls out any decent music or familiar tunes. At dusk, he leaned back in an armchair, closed his eyes, and played the violin flat on his lap. Sometimes the piano is high-pitched and melancholy, sometimes it is strange and cheerful. Obviously, these piano sounds reflected a certain trend of thought that dominated him at the time, but I cannot say whether these tunes contributed to this trend of thought, or whether it was just a whim. I was very impatient with his harsh solos; if it weren't for the fact that he often followed them, pulling on a few of my favorite pieces in quick succession, as a small compensation for my patience, I would have jumped violently.
For the first week or two, no one came to visit us. I used to think that my partner was like me, alone and without friends. However, it soon became apparent that he had many acquaintances, and that they came from very different strata of society. One of them was yellow-faced, with rat-headed eyes and black eyes. Introduced by Holmes, I knew that his name was Monsieur Restriede. This person comes three or four times a week. One morning, a fashionable young girl came and sat for more than half an hour before leaving. In the afternoon, another gray-haired, ragged guest, who looked like a Jewish peddler, seemed very nervous, and was followed by a scruffy old woman. On another occasion, a white-haired gentleman visited my companion; on another occasion, he was approached by a tea house on the train in a cotton wool uniform. Whenever these broken guests appeared, Sherlock Holmes always begged him to use the room, and I had to go back to my bedroom. He often apologized to me for causing me such inconvenience. "I had to use this living room as an office space, and these people are my customers," he said. "This time, I found another good opportunity to ask him questions, but, out of prudence, I did not force him to confide in me. I thought there must be some big reason why he didn't talk about his profession. However, he soon took the initiative to talk about this issue, breaking my original idea.
I remember very well that it was the fourth of March, and I had to be a little earlier than usual; I found that Holmes had not yet finished breakfast. The landlady had always known that I had a habit of getting up late, so there was no seating for me at the table, and none of my coffees were ready. I started the fire for a moment without reason, and immediately rang the bell and briefly told the landlady that I had prepared breakfast. So I picked up a magazine from the table and flipped it through to kill the waiting time, while my companion chewed on his bread silently. There was an article in a magazine with a pencil drawn under the headline, and I naturally read it first.
The title of the article seems to be somewhat exaggerated, called what is "treasure book of life". This article attempts to illustrate how much a good observer would gain if he observed precisely and systematically what he came into contact with. I find this article to be prominent, and although it is shrewd and original, it is not absurd; in terms of reasoning, it is rigorous and compact; but in terms of arguments, in my opinion, it is far-fetched and exaggerated. The author claims that from a person's instantaneous expression, every movement of muscles, and every turn of the eyes, one can infer his innermost thoughts. According to the authors, for a person who has a proven track record of observation and analysis,
"Deception" is impossible. The conclusions he draws are as accurate as Euclid's theorem. And these conclusions, to some laymen, are truly astonishing, and they will really regard him as a prophet of God until they have figured out the steps in which he has come to such conclusions.
The author says: "A logician who does not need to see or hear of the Atlantic Ocean or the Niagara Chib can infer from a drop of water that it may exist, so that the whole life is a huge chain, and as long as he sees one of them, the whole chain can be deduced." The science of inference and analysis, like other techniques, can only be mastered through long and patient study; Beginners may wish to begin with a grasp of the more superficial problems before they begin to study the extremely difficult mental and psychological aspects of things. For example, when you meet a person, you must identify the person's history and occupation together. Such exercise may seem childish and boring, but it can sharpen one's ability to observe and teach people where to observe and what to observe. A man's fingernails, sleeves, the knee part of his boots and pants, the cocoon between his thumb and forefinger, his expression, the cuffs of his shirt, etc., can clearly reveal his profession from any of the above points. If these circumstances are linked, it is almost unimaginable that the investigator of the case cannot suddenly understand. ”
As I read this, I couldn't help but throw the magazine on the table and say out loud, "What a nonsense!" I have never seen such a boring article in my life. ”
"Which article?" Holmes asked.
"Well, that's the article." As I sat down to breakfast, I pointed to the article with a small spoon and said, "I think you've read it because you have a pencil path drawn underneath." I don't deny that this article is beautifully written, but after I read it, I still can't help but get angry. Apparently, this is a specious set of wonderful theories that some lazy man who has been eating all day and doing nothing sits in his study and dreams behind closed doors. Not realistic at all. I would rather try to put him in the third class of the underground train and tell him the professions of his fellow trainmen one by one. I'd like to make a bet with him, a thousand-on-one bet. ”
"Then you will lose," said Holmes serenely, "and I wrote that one." ”
"It's you!"
"Yes, I have a special talent for both observation and reasoning. The theories I have put forward in this article seem ridiculous to you, but they are very practical, so practical that even I earn my cheese and bread from it. ”
"How do you live on it?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Ah, I have my own profession. I think I'm probably the only one in the world who is in this profession. I'm a 'consulting detective' and maybe you can understand what kind of industry this is. In this city of London, there are many official detectives and private detectives. These people came to me when they were in trouble, and I tried to get them on track. They gave me all the evidence, and generally I was able to use my knowledge of the history of crime to correct their mistakes. Crimes are very similar, and if you know the details of a thousand cases and can't explain the thousandth case, that's weird. Restrade was a famous detective. Recently he fell into the fog of five miles in a forgery case, so that's why he came to me. ”
"What about the others?"
"Most of them are directed by private detectives, and they are all in trouble and need guidance. I listened carefully to their facts, and they listened to me; and the expenses went into my pocket. ”
I said, "Do you mean that people, even though they have witnessed all kinds of details with their own eyes, can't solve them, but you can explain some difficult problems without leaving your house?" ”
"Exactly. Because I have the ability to analyze things using intuition. Occasionally, I will encounter a slightly more complicated case, so I will have to go on a journey and investigate it myself. You know, I have a lot of special knowledge, and applying that knowledge to a case can solve the problem. Although the inference methods mentioned in that article have aroused your ridicule, they are of incomparable value to me in practical work. The ability to observe is my second nature. When we first met, I told you that you were from Afghanistan, and you seemed surprised. ”
"No problem, someone must have told you."
"There is no such thing. I knew at a glance that you were from Afghanistan. Because of my long habit, a series of thoughts flew through my mind, so that when I came to conclusion, I was unaware of the steps taken to reach the conclusion. However, there are certain steps in this. In your case, my reasoning process is like this: 'This gentleman has the demeanor of a medical worker, but he is a military man. Well, it is obvious that he is a military doctor. He had just returned from the tropics, because his face was dark, but, judging from the black and white skin of his wrists, it was not his original skin color. His face was haggard, which clearly showed that he had recovered from a long illness and had gone through hardships. He has injured his left arm, and now he is still a little stiff and inconvenient to move. Where can a British military doctor who has endured hardships in the tropics and has been wounded in the arm? Naturally only in Afghanistan. This series of thoughts lasted less than a second, so I blurted out that you were from Afghanistan, and you were still shocked. ”
I smiled and said, "Listening to your explanation, this matter is still quite simple." You remind me of the detective character Du (1) in the work of Edgar Allan Poe who came. I couldn't have imagined that, apart from novels, there would actually be such a person (2). ”
Holmes stood up and lit his pipe. He said, "You must think that comparing me to Duban is praising me." However, in my opinion, Duban was really an insignificant fellow. He was silent for a quarter of an hour before he suddenly broke his friend's mind, a trick that was too contrived and superficial. Yes, he had some genius for analyzing problems, but he was by no means an extraordinary figure in Ellen's imagination. ”
I asked, "Have you read Gapolio's work?" What do you think of the character of Legok, is he a detective? ”
Holmes snorted contemptuously. He said in a vicious voice, "Le Gogk is a useless fool. He has only one thing worth mentioning, and that is his energy. That book was so tiresome to me. The theme of the book is simply about how to identify unknown criminals. I can solve such a problem within twenty-four hours. But Legok took about six months to work. It's been so long that I can really write a textbook for detectives and teach them what to avoid. ”
I was very angry when I heard him say that the two characters I admired were so worthless. I went to the window and looked at the lively street. I said to myself, "This man may be very clever, but he is too proud and conceited." ”
(1) Edgar Allan Poe (Edgar Allan Poe): American novelist. He is the author of detective novels such as The Murder on Mog Street. - Translator's Note
(2) Duban Dupin is the protagonist of the book "The Murder of Mog Street" written by Ellen Poe. - Translator's Note
He complained disapprovingly: "There have been no crimes these days, no criminals have been found, and the minds of those who are engaged in our business are really useless." I know that my talents are enough to make me famous. No one from ancient times to the present has ever been as talented and so superbly researched in the investigation of crimes as I am. But what was the result? There are no crimes to investigate, at best, simple and childish crimes, and the motives are so obvious that even the Scottish Yard personnel can see them at a glance. ”①
(1) Scotland Yard Scotland Yard is an alias for the Metropolitan Police. - Translator's Note
I was still angry with his unashamed conversation. I think it's better to change the subject.
"I don't know what this man is looking for?" I pointed to a well-dressed, plainly dressed man. He was walking slowly across the street, anxiously searching for the house number. He held a large blue envelope in his hand, and it was clear that he was the one who delivered the letter.
Holmes said, "You mean the cobia of the retired Marines?" ”
I thought to myself, "I'm bragging about it again." He knew I couldn't confirm that his guess was correct. ”
The thought hadn't faded from my mind yet, when the man we were observing saw our house number and ran across the street. Only a sharp knock was heard, someone downstairs was speaking in a low voice, and then heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs.
As soon as the man came into the room, he gave the letter to my friend. He said:
"This is a letter to Mr. Holmes."
This is a good opportunity to frustrate Holmes's arrogance. He had just said nonsense, never expecting this step. I said in as gentle a voice as possible, "Boy, what is your profession?" ”
"I am on duty, sir," replied the man in a gruff voice, "and my uniform is repaired." ”
"What did you do in the past?" As I asked him, I glanced at my companion with a slight malice.
"Cobia, sir, I served in the Royal Marine Light Infantry. Sir, didn't you reply? Well, sir. ”
He touched his heels, raised his hands in salute, and walked out.
Iii The Laurel Garden Street massacre
The practicality of my companion's theory is once again proven. I admit that this really surprised me, and therefore I admired his analytical ability even more. But there was still some suspicion lurking in my mind, lest it was a trap he had set beforehand, intending to tease me; and I could not understand what the purpose of the teasing me was. When I looked at him, he had finished reading the letter, and his eyes were dazed and thoughtful.
I asked, "How do you deduce that?" ”
He asked in a rough voice, "What do you infer?" ”
"Well, how do you know he's a retired Marine Cobia?"
"I don't have time to talk about these trivial things," he replied rudely, then smiled again and said, "Please forgive me for my rudeness." You interrupted my train of thought, but it doesn't matter. So, you really can't see that he was a Cobia of the Marine Corps? ”
"I really can't see it."
"It's relatively easy to understand this, but it's not so simple to explain how I understand it. If you want to prove that two plus two equals four, you will have to find it difficult, but you know that this is an unquestionable fact. Across the street I saw this man with a large blue anchor tattooed on the back of his hand, which was characteristic of a seafarer. Moreover, his demeanor was quite military, with a military beard; therefore, we can say that he was a Marine. His attitude was somewhat arrogant, and he had some commanding spirits. You must have seen his posture of waving his staff with his head held high. From his appearance, he was also a middle-aged man who was both stable and dignified—so based on these circumstances, I believe he was a cobia. ”
I couldn't help but shout, "Wonderful! ”
"It's also bland," said Holmes. But, judging by the expression on his face, I think he was very surprised and admired to see me, and he was also very happy. "I just said there were no criminals, and it seems I was wrong —look at this!" As he spoke, he threw the text message that he had sent to me.
"Oops," I looked at it cursorily, and cried out involuntarily, "this is terrible! ”
He said calmly, "This thing does seem really unusual. Would you please read the letter to me aloud? ”
Here is the letter I read to him: Dear Mr. Holmes:
Last night, at the end of Brickston Road, at Lauriston Garden Street, there was a murder. At about two o'clock this morning, the patrol police suddenly saw that there was a light in the place, and the factor was that the room was uninhabited, so they suspected that something had gone wrong. The patrol officer found the door wide open and the front room empty, including a male corpse. The corpse was neatly dressed and contained business cards in a bag with the words "Inauq · Cone, a native of J. Cleveland, Ohio, U.S.A.", etc. There was no sign of robbery, nor was there any evidence of the cause of death. Although there were several blood stains in the house, there were no wounds on the deceased's body. How the deceased entered the empty house, we are puzzled, and we feel that this case is very difficult. I will be here until I come before twelve o'clock. Everything will remain in its original condition until the reception is returned. If you can't come, you will also be told in detail, and if you are instructed, you will be overwhelmed.
On Tebez Grason
My friend said: "Gladson is truly a competent figure in the Metropolitan Police. Both he and Rastrade were among the best of the bunch of fools. Both of them can also be called quick-sighted and alert, but they are both conformist and conservative. They fought with each other, like two laughing women. If both men had intervened in the case, there would have been a joke. ”
I was very surprised to see Holmes still talking unhurriedly and without incident. So I cried out, "You really can't delay for a minute, do you want me to hire you a carriage?" ”
"I'm not even sure if I'm going to go." I'm indeed one of the few slackers in the world, but that's only when my laziness comes up, because sometimes I'm also very agile. ”
"What? Isn't this the opportunity you've been looking forward to? ”
"Dear friend, what does this have to do with me?" If I had settled the case in its entirety, I would have said with certainty that the Gleeson and Rastrade gang would have taken all the credit for themselves. This is because I am an unofficial person. ”
"But he's turning to you now."
"Yes. He knows that I am superior to him, and he will admit it to my face; but he would rather cut off his tongue than admit it in the presence of any third party. Still, we can take a look. I can go it alone and solve the case alone. Even if I don't get anything, I can laugh at them. Let's go! ”
He put on his coat, and the hasty look showed that his eagerness to try had overwhelmed his indifferent and passive cold side.
He said, "Put on your hat." ”
"Do you want me to go too?"
"Yes, if you don't have anything else to do." A minute later we got into a carriage and hurried toward Brickston Road.
It was a hazy and foggy morning, and the roof was shrouded in a layer of gray-brown drapery, just like a reflection of the muddy streets below. My companion was in high spirits, chattering about the violin produced in Cremona, Italy, and the difference between the Streidivari (1) (2) violin and the Amartí violin, while I did not say a word and listened quietly (3) because the dreary weather and this sad task made my mood very depressed.
(1) Cremona is a famous Italian violin producer. - Translator's Note
(2) Strethivari Antonio Stradivari: The world-famous violin maker of the cremona place, died in the year. - Translator's Note
(3) - In the century, the Amatti family in the area of Cremona was famous for making fine violins. - Translator's Note
Finally I interrupted Holmes's musical discussion when I said:
"You don't seem to think much about the case at hand."
He replied, "There is no material yet." It is a great mistake to make assumptions before having all the evidence. That would cause the judgment to produce a gas difference. ”
"You'll get the materials soon." I said, pointing forward, "If I'm not mistaken, this is Brickston Road, where the accident occurred." ”
"Exactly. Stop, coachman, stop fast! "We were about a hundred yards from that house, and he insisted on getting out of the car, and for the rest of the road, we walked.
Lauriston Garden Street looks like a murderous mansion from the outside. There are four houses in a row, a little further from the street, two inhabited, two empty, and the number is an empty one. There are three rows of windows on the front side of the empty house, and the situation is extremely bleak because it is uninhabited. The dusty glass was plastered with "rent-for-hire" posts, like white hair on the eyes. In front of each house is a small wooded garden that separates the houses from the street. In the small garden there was a yellow path paved with clay and stones; it was muddy all over the night of heavy rain. The garden is surrounded by low walls, about three feet high, with wooden fences on the heads. A tall policeman stood leaning against the wall, surrounded by a few idle people, looking inside with his neck tilted, hoping to see the scene in the house, but seeing nothing.
I suspected that Holmes would rush into the house at once and start studying this mysterious case at once. But he didn't seem to be in a hurry. He's showing a casual look, which I think is a bit pretentious in the current situation. He walked up and down the sidewalk, staring blankly at the ground, and for a moment he gazed at the sky and the house opposite and the wooden fence on the wall. After looking at it so carefully, he walked slowly up the path, or rather, he walked over the grass on the side of the road, observing the ground of the trail intently. He stopped twice, and once I saw him still smiling and heard him cheer with satisfaction. On this damp and muddy clay surface, there were many footprints; but since the police came and went from above, I could not understand how my companions could expect to discern anything from it. Yet I have not forgotten how he proved that time how he proved his keen observation of things, so I am sure he will be able to see many things that I cannot see.
At the door of the house, a tall man with pale yellow hair came to greet us, with a notebook in his hand. He ran up, took my companion's hand warmly and said, "It's so nice that you're here." I left everything as it was. ”
"But that's the exception!" My friend pointed to the path and said, "Even if there were a herd of buffalo walking through here, it wouldn't be worse than that." No problem, Gladson, you think you've come to a conclusion, that's why you're allowing others to do that. ”
The detective dodged and said, "I'm busy in the house, and my colleague Mr. Rethride is here, and I've entrusted him with everything outside." ”
Holmes looked at me, raised his eyebrows mockingly, and said:
"With two characters like you and Restred present, the third person certainly won't find anything again."
Gleeson rubbed both hands and said triumphantly, "I think we've done our best." This case is indeed very off-limits, and I know that this is just right for your appetite. ”
"Didn't you come by carriage?" Holmes asked.
"No, sir."
"Didn't Restitude either?"
"Neither does he, sir."
"Well, let's go into the house and have a look."
After Holmes had asked these incoherent questions, he strode into the room. Gleeson followed, a look of surprise on his face.
There was a short aisle leading to the kitchen, and there was no flat carpet on the aisle floor, and the floor was dusty. There is a door to the left and right of the aisle. One of them has not been open for many weeks. The other is the door of the restaurant, where the tragedy occurred. Holmes went in, and I followed him, feeling unusually heavy. This is caused by dead bodies.
It is a large square room, which is extra large due to its lack of furniture. The walls were covered with cheap flower paper, and in some places there were already spots of mold, and in some places, large flats were peeled off, revealing the yellow pink walls inside. There is a nice fireplace across the door. The fireplace frame is made of white fake marble, and at one end of the stove is a section of red candle head. There was only one window in the house, which was unusually dirty, so the light in the room was very dim, and everywhere was covered with a layer of dim colors. The dust in the house deepened the mood.
These are the sights I saw later. When I went in, my attention was all on the terrible corpse; he was frozen on the floor, a pair of dazed eyes staring at the faded ceiling. The deceased was about forty-three or four years old, of medium stature, broad shoulders, a black mane, and a short, stiff beard, wearing a thick tweed top and vest, light-colored pants, and a white hard collar and cuffs. There is a neat top hat on the floor next to it. The deceased, with clenched fists, arms outstretched, and legs intertwined, seemed to have struggled bitterly when he was dying. His stiff face showed a look of horror, which seemed to me to be an expression of resentment that I had never seen before. The fierce appearance, coupled with the strange shape of the grinning teeth, was very frightening, and with the low forehead, flat nose and protruding chin, it looked very much like a strange flat-nosed ape. In addition, that extremely unnatural churning posture of pain makes its appearance even more frightening. I have seen all sorts of dead men, but I have never seen anything more terrible than in the dark, filthy house on the outskirts of London.
Restrade, who had always been thin and had the demeanor of a detective, was standing in the doorway, greeting my friend and me.
He said, "This case must stir up the whole city, sir." I'm not a newbie without experience, but I've never seen anything like this. ”
Gleeson asked, "No clues?" ”
Lestrade chimed in, "Not at all. ”
Holmes walked over to the corpse and knelt down to examine it intently.
"Surely you don't have any wounds?" He asked, pointing to the blood trail around him.
The two detectives replied in unison, "Not really." ”
"Well, these blood stains must be of another person, perhaps the murderer'." If this is a homicide, it reminds me of the circumstances of van Kinssen in 1834 at the time of the death of Van Kinson in the place of Jutriquet. Gladson, do you remember that case? ”
"I don't remember, sir."
"You really should re-read this old case. There is nothing new in the world, it has been done by previous generations. ”
As he spoke, his sensitive fingers touched here and there, and a moment later he unbuttoned the dead man's coat to check it; and the dazed look in his eyes that I had talked about earlier appeared again. He checked very quickly, and was surprisingly meticulous and conscientious. Finally, he sniffed the lips of the deceased and glanced again at the soles of the deceased's leather boots.
He asked, "Has the body never moved?" ”
"Nothing has been done except for the necessary inspections of us."
"Now it's time to send him to the burial," he said, "and there's nothing more to check." ”
Gleeson had prepared a stretcher and four carrying stretchers. As soon as he said hello, they walked in and carried the dead out. As they lifted the dead body, a ring rolled down to the floor. Rethride hurriedly picked it up and looked at it inexplicably.
He cried, "There must have been a woman who has been here." This is a woman's wedding ring. ”
As he spoke, he reached over with his hand holding the ring for everyone to see. We gathered around and looked around. This plain gold ring is undoubtedly worn by the bride.
"In this way, the case is further complicated, and God knows, this case is already complicated enough," Grayson said. ”
Holmes said, "How do you know that this ring does not make the case clearer?" It is useless to stare at it in such a daze. What did you check out in your pocket? ”
"It's all here," said Gladson, pointing to a small pile of things on the last step of the stairs, "a gold watch—no. A heavy and sturdy Elbert gold chain. A gold ring with the masonic emblem engraved on it. A gold pin with the head of a tiger-headed dog on it, and the dog's eyes are two rubies. Russian business card holder with Cleveland, Inauk Cymber's business card, J-letterhead and EJD on shirt... The three abbreviation letters match. There was no wallet, only some change, a total of seven pounds and thirteen shillings. A pocket edition of Bugachu (1)
(1) Boccacio (-): A famous Italian novelist. - Translator's Note
"How did you ask?" For the novel Decameron, the title page bears the name of Joseph Stanjösson. There were also two letters—one to Coneber and one to Joseph Stanson. ”
"Where did you send it?"
"The Riverside Road U.S. Exchange left it to me to collect. Both letters were sent from the Gain Steamship Company informing them of the date the ship departed from Liverpool. It can be seen that this unlucky guy is going back to New York. ”
"Have you ever investigated Stan Jieson as a person?"
"Sir, I immediately investigated." "I've sent the commercials to various newspapers to publish them, and sent people to the U.S. exchanges to inquire about them, and I haven't come back yet," Grayson said. ”
"Have you spoken to Cleveland?"
"We're going to make a telegram this morning."
"We just gave them a detailed account of the situation and told them that we wanted them to tell us anything that would help us."
"Didn't you mention the details of what you thought was a crucial issue?"
"I asked about Stan Jieson."
"Didn't ask anything else?" Isn't there a single key issue in the whole case? Can't you make another telegram? ”
Gleson said angrily, "I telegraphed everything I had to say. ”
Holmes smiled to himself and was about to say something when Rethyder came again, rubbing his hands triumphantly. When we talked to Gladson in the house, he was in the front room.
"Mr. Gladson," he said, "I have just discovered something of great importance. If I hadn't examined the wall carefully, I would have missed it. The little man's eyes sparkled as he spoke, apparently smug because he had outperformed his colleagues.
"Come here," he said, as he quickly returned to the front room. Since the body had been carried away, the air in the house seemed to be much fresher. "Well, please stand there!"
He drew a match on his boot and held it up against the wall.
"Look at that!" He said triumphantly.
As I said earlier, the flower paper on the wall has peeled off in many places. It was in the corner of the wall, where a large piece of flower paper had peeled off, revealing a rough yellow pink wall. On this wall without flower paper, there is a handwritten letter scribbled in blood:
RACHE
"What do you think of the word?" The detective said loudly, as the owner of the circus class boasted of his tricks, "This word is ignored because it is in the darkest corner of the house, and no one has ever thought of coming here to see it." It was written by the murderer dipped in his or her own blood. Lo and behold, there are traces of blood flowing down the wall! This shows from this that this is by no means suicide in any case. Why choose this corner to write? I can tell you, you look at that candle on the fireplace. It was lit, and if it was lit, then the corner was the brightest, not the darkest. ”
Gleeson said contemptuously, "But you just found this handwriting, what's the point?" ”
"What's the point?" This means that the person who wrote it was going to write a woman's name , Rachel , but something disturbed him , so he or she didn't have time to finish it. You remember my words, and when the whole case is clear, you will be able to find out that a woman named 'Richele' is related to this case. You can laugh at me now, Mr. Holmes; you may be very clever and capable, but in the final analysis, ginger is still old and spicy. ”
My companion, hearing his opinion, couldn't help but burst out laughing, which infuriated the little man. Holmes said, "I'm so sorry! You were indeed the first of the three of us to discover this handwriting, and naturally you owe it to you. And, as you said, it is abundantly evident from this that the word was written by another man in last night's tragedy. I haven't had time to check the room yet. If you allow it, I'm going to check it out now. ”
He said, and quickly took out from his pocket a tape measure and a large circular magnifying glass. With these two tools, he walked silently around the house, sometimes standing, sometimes kneeling, and once lying on the ground. He worked intently, as if to forget us all; he kept muttering to himself in a low voice, exclaiming, sighing, sometimes whistling, sometimes whispering as if hopeful and inspired. As I watched him from the sidelines, I couldn't help but think of a trained purebred hound, running around in the jungle, barking and barking until it sniffed out its prey. He kept checking for twenty minutes, carefully measuring the distance between some of the traces; and I could not see them at all. Occasionally he also incredibly measured walls with a tape measure. Later he was very careful to pick up a handful of gray dust from somewhere on the floor and put it in an envelope. Then he examined the blood letters on the walls with a magnifying glass and looked at each letter very closely. Finally, he seemed satisfied, so he put a tape measure and a magnifying glass into his pocket.
He smiled and said, "Some people say that 'genius' is the ability to endure endless hardships and stand hard work. This definition is very inappropriate, but it still applies to detective work. ”
Gladson and Restrade watched the movements of their private counterparts with great sense of contempt and contempt. They clearly did not yet understand what I had now come to understand—that every slightest movement of Holmes had a practical and definite purpose.
The two of them asked in a voice, "Sir, what do you think?" ”
My companion said, "If I were to help you, I would have to take credit for what the two of you have done in this case." You are going very well now, and it is not convenient for anyone to intervene in it. His words were full of irony. He went on to say:
"If you can keep the investigation going, I'm willing to do my best to help." Now I'm going to talk to the policeman who found the body. Can you give me his name and address? ”
Rethride looked at his notepad and said, "His name is John Luans, and he's off work now." You can go to Kennington Garden Gate, Audley's Compound, and go to him. ”
Holmes wrote down the address.
He said, "Doctor, let's go, let's go find him." I'm telling you something that will help with this case. He turned back to the two detectives and continued, "It's a murder. The killer was a man, more than six feet tall, in middle age. In terms of his stature, his feet were a little smaller, he wore a pair of chunky square boots and smoked Indian cigars. He came in a four-wheeled carriage with the victims. The carriage was pulled on a horse, and the horse had three hooves that were old and the hooves of the right front hoof that were new. The murderer was probably red in the face and had long fingernails on his right hand. These are just a few signs, but they may be helpful for both of you. ”
Restred and Gladson looked at each other with a suspicious smile.
Rathriede asked, "If this man was killed, then how was he murdered?" ”
"Poisoned to death." Holmes said simply, and then strode out, "and one more point, Reststrade," he turned back to the door as he approached the door, "and in German the word 'Ratchet' means revenge; so stop wasting time looking for the 'Miss Richel.'" ”
After saying these parting words, Holmes turned and left, leaving the two adversaries standing stunned.
IV Narration of Police Luans
By the time we left Lauriston Garden Street, it was already one o'clock in the afternoon. Holmes went with me to the nearby telegraph office to shoot a long telegram. Then he called a carriage and instructed the coachman to take us to the spot that Rastrade had told us.
Holmes said: "Nothing is more important than the evidence obtained directly, in fact, I have already made up my mind about this case, but we should still make clear the situation to be ascertained." ”
I said, "Holmes, you really call me a terrible thing." The details you just said, you yourself are not necessarily as sure as you pretend. ”
"I'm absolutely right." He replied, "As soon as I got there, the first thing I saw were the marks of two carriage wheels along the stone edge of the road. Since it had been sunny for a week before it rained last night, the carriage that had left this deep wheel mark must have arrived there at night. In addition, there are the prints of horseshoes. One of the hoof prints is much clearer than the other three, which means that the hoof is a new one. Since the carriage had arrived there after it had rained, and since, according to Gladson, there had been no carriages in all morning, it followed that the carriage must have stayed there the night before; and it was therefore the carriage which had taken the two men to the vacant house. ”
"It seems simple," I said, "but how do you know the height of one of them?" ”
"Well, a man's height, nine times out of ten, can be known from the length of his steps. Although the calculation method is very simple, it is useless for me to teach you step by step now. I measured the distance of the man's steps on the clay outside the house and on the dust inside the house. Then I found a way to check whether my calculations were correct. When the great mortal writes on the wall, it is natural to write in the line of sight. The handwriting on the wall is now just six feet above the ground. It's as simple as a child's play. ”
"As for his age?" I asked again.
"Well, if a man could step over four and a half feet effortlessly, he would never be an old man. There was a puddle of water of that width on the corridor in the small garden, and he clearly took a step forward, but the leather boots were walking around, and the square boots were walking from above. There is nothing mysterious about this. I am merely applying some of the methods of observing things and reasoning that I have proposed in my article to my daily life. Do you still have any questions? ”
"What about fingernails and Indian cigar smoke?" I reminded him again.
The writing on the wall was written by a man dipping his index finger in blood. I used a magnifying glass to see that some of the wall powder had been scraped off while writing. If the person's nails had been trimmed, it would never have been like this. I also collected some scattered soot from the floor, which was dark in color and raised, only in Indian cigars. I used to specialize in cigar soot. In fact, I have written a monograph on this subject. I can boast that no matter what brand of cigar or paper cigarette ash, as long as I look at it, I can recognize it. It is in these subtle places that a capable detective is different from the likes of Gladson and Reststrade. ”
"And the problem with that red face?" I asked again.
"Ah, that's a much bolder speculation, but I'm sure I'm right. In the current circumstances of this case, don't ask me this question for the time being. ”
I touched my forehead with my hand and said, "I'm really a little dizzy, and the more I think about it, the more mysterious it becomes." For example, if it is really two people, how exactly do these two people enter the empty house? What happened to the driver who sent them? How can one person force another person to take poison? Where does the blood come from? Since this case is not a plot to make money and kill people, what is the purpose of the murderer? Where did a woman's ring come from? Most importantly, why did the murderer write the German word 'revenge' on the wall before he fled? Honestly, I can't think of how to relate these issues to each other. ”
My companion smiled approvingly.
He said: "You summarized the difficult points in the case very concisely, very concisely, and summed up very well. Although I have already raised eyebrows in the main plot, there are still many places that are still not clear enough. As for the bloody letter that Rastrade found, it was nothing more than a trap, implying that it was the work of the Socialist Party or a secret group in an attempt to lead the police into the way. It wasn't written by a German. If you pay attention, you can see that the letter A is more or less written in German. But the real Germans often write in Latin. So we can say with all odds that the letter was by no means written by the Germans, but by the hand of an unskilled imitator, who did it a little more. This is nothing more than a ruse to lead the investigation astray. Doctor, I'm not going to tell you anything more about this case. You know that once the magician has spoken his tricks through, he will not be appreciated by others; if I tell you too much about my methods of work, then you will come to the conclusion that Holmes is nothing more than a very ordinary figure. ”
I replied, "I will never do that." Sooner or later, detective art will develop into a precise science, but you've pretty much started it. ”
My companion heard this, and seeing the sincerity with which I spoke, he blushed with joy. I have long seen that when he hears praise for his exploits in detectivery, he becomes as sensitive as any girl hears others praise her beauty.
He said, "I'll tell you one more thing. The two men in leather boots and the square boots came in the same car, and as if they were very friendly, they probably walked along the garden path with their arms in arm. When they entered the house, they walked around the house; rather, the one who put on the leather boots stood still, while the person in the square boots kept walking around the house. I could see these things from the dust on the floor. At the same time, I can see that he is getting more and more excited the more he walks, because his steps are getting bigger and bigger, which shows this. As he walked, he spoke, and finally became furious, and the tragedy happened. Now that I've told you everything I know, all that's left is speculation and conjecture. Fortunately, we already have a good foundation to start working. We have to hurry up, because I'm going to listen to Aare's concert this afternoon, to the music of Norman Neruda. ”
As we talked, the car kept passing through the dimly lit streets and cool alleys. Arriving at the mouth of one of the dirtiest and most desolate alleys, the coachman suddenly stopped the car. "That's the Audley compound over there," he said, pointing to the narrow alley between a pitch-black brick wall, "and you'll come here to find me when you come back." ”
Audley Compound is not a place of grace. We walked through a narrow alley and came to a square compound with a slate floor and some dirty and simple houses on all sides. We walked through a group of dirty-dressed children, drilled through rows of sunburned clothes, and finally arrived at the number. A small bronze plaque was nailed to the door with the words "Luans" engraved on it. We asked before we knew the policeman was sleeping. We went into a small living room in front of us and waited for him to come out.
The policeman came out quickly. He was a little upset because he had been disturbed by us. He said: "I have already reported it in the bureau. ”
Holmes took a half-pound gold coin from his pocket and played with it thoughtfully. He said, "We want you to say it yourself from start to finish." ”
The policeman looked at the little gold coin with two eyes and replied, "I would love to tell you everything I know." ”
"Then let me hear what happened." You can say whatever you want. ”
Luans sat down on the couch in the horsehair, and he frowned, as if determined not to let anything out of his narrative.
He said, "I'll start with that. I was on duty from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m. the next morning. At eleven o'clock in the night, there was a fight on White Hart Street, and apart from that, the area I patrolled was very calm. At one o'clock in the night, it began to rain. That's when I met Harey Mochi, who was patrolling the woods of the Netherlands. The two of us were standing on the corner of Henrietta Street chatting. Soon, a little after about two or two o'clock, I thought it was time to take a turn and see if Brixton Road was calm. The road is muddy and remote. There wasn't even a shadow along the way, only one or two carriages passing by me. I wandered slowly, while thinking about how beautiful it was to drink hot wine. At this moment, I suddenly saw the window of the house flashing with lights. I knew that both houses on Lauriston's Garden Street were empty, and that the last tenant of one of them had contracted typhoid fever and died, but the landlord was reluctant to repair the gutter. So as soon as I saw that there was a light in that window, I was shocked and suspected that something was wrong. When I get to the door—"
"You just stood, turned and walked back to the door of the little garden," my companion interjected suddenly, "why are you doing that?" ”
Luan Si jumped up in fright, his face full of surprise, and stared at Holmes with a pair of large eyes.
"Oh my God, that's true, sir," he said, "but how do you know, God knows!" You see, when I walked to the door, I felt too lonely, too deserted, and I thought it would be better to find someone to go in with me. I was not afraid of anything in the world, and I suddenly remembered that maybe this was the man who had died of typhoid fever, and was examining the gutter that had killed him. At this thought, I turned and left, and went back to the gate to see if I could see The lantern of Mochi; but I could not even see his shadow, nor did I see anyone else. ”
"Isn't there a single person on the street?"
"There's not a single figure, sir, not even a dog." I had to muster up my courage and walk back again, pushing the door open. It was quiet, so I went into the room with the lights. I saw a candle on the mantelpiece, or a red candle, and the candlelight swayed, and under the candlelight I saw only -"
"Well, I know what you've seen. You walked around the house a few times, knelt down next to the dead body, and then went over and pushed the kitchen door, and then—"
When John Luans heard this, he suddenly jumped up, his face full of fear, and a look of doubt in his eyes. He said loudly, "Where were you hiding at that time, and you saw it so clearly?" I think these things are things you shouldn't know. ”
Holmes laughed, took out his business card, and threw it across the table to show the policeman. "Don't arrest me as a murderer," he said, "and I am also a hound and not a wolf; as both Mr. Gladson and Mr. Restrade will prove." So, please move on. What did you do after that? ”
Luan Si sat down again, but the look of doubt on his face had not yet disappeared. I walked to the gate and blew my siren. Mochi and two other policemen came in.
"Was there nothing on the street at the time?"
"Yes, everyone who is serious has already gone home."
"What does this mean?"
The policeman smiled and said, "I've seen a lot of drunks in my life, but I've never seen a drunk like that guy." When I came out, he was standing in the doorway, leaning against the railing, letting go of his voice, and singing aloud the (1) minor tune or this kind of song sung by the Khao Ling class. He couldn't even stand on his feet, there was no way. ”
(1) Columbine is a female character in a comedy. - Translator's Note
"What kind of person is he?" Holmes asked.
When Holmes made such a mistake, John Luans seemed to be a little unhappy. He said, "He's a rare drunk. If we hadn't been that busy, he would have been sent to the police station. ”
"His face, his clothes, did you notice?" Holmes couldn't help but interject again.
"I think I did notice that because I and Mochi had helped him. He was a tall man, with a red face, and a circle underneath—"
"That's enough." Holmes exclaimed, "What happened to him afterwards?" ”
"We were busy enough to take care of him." He said.
Then the policeman said with some dissatisfaction: "I bet he knows the way home." ”
"What kind of clothes is he wearing?"
"A brown coat."
"Do you have a horse whip in your hand?"
"Horse whip? No. ”
"He must have dropped it," muttered my partner, "and then you saw or heard a carriage coming?" ”
"Nothing."
"This half-pound coin is for you," said my companion, standing up and putting on his hat, "Luanth, I'm afraid you'll never rise in the police brigade." Your head shouldn't just be a decoration, it should be of some use. You could have fished out a sheriff last night. The man in your hands last night is the clue to this mysterious case, and now we are looking for him. There is no use in arguing at this point. I tell you, that's exactly what happened. Let's go, doctor. ”
As we spoke, we went out together to look for our carriage, and the remaining policeman was still half-convinced, but obviously uneasy.
As we rode home in the car, Holmes said fiercely, "This big fool! Think about it, when he encountered such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he let it go in vain. ”
"I literally fell into the fog of five miles. Admittedly, the man the policeman described was exactly the same as the man you imagined, but why did he go and come back? This is not like the behavior of criminals. ”
"Ring, sir, ring, he came back for this thing. If there is no other way to catch him, we can use this ring as bait and let him be hooked. I'll catch him, Doctor—I'll make a bet with you on a two-for-one bet that I can catch him. I'm going to thank you for all this. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have gone, and I would have lost the best research opportunity I've ever had. Let's call it the 'study of blood words' okay? Why don't we use some beautiful words? In the mundane entanglement of life, murder runs like a red thread in the middle. Our responsibility is to expose it, to clean it up from our lives, to expose it thoroughly. Let's go to dinner first, and then we'll listen to Norman Neruda's music. Her fingering and bowwork are simply amazing. It was wonderful that she played Chopard's little piece: Terra-La-La-Lila-Lila-Lye. ”
The unofficial detective leaned back against the carriage and sang like a lark. I was silently meditating; the human mind is truly omnipotent.
V. Advertisements attract uninvited guests
After a busy morning, my body was a bit overwhelmed, so I felt extremely tired in the afternoon. After Holmes went out to a concert, I lay down on the couch and tried to sleep for two hours, but I couldn't do anything. I was overwhelmed by what had happened, and my mind was filled with a multitude of strange thoughts and speculations. As soon as I closed my eyes, the twisted monkey-like face of the victim appeared in front of my eyes. It gave me the impression of being utterly ugly, and it was hard for me to feel anything other than gratitude to the murderer who had removed such a good-looking man from the world. If appearance can really explain a person's sin, it must be the dignity of this Inauk Cyborg of Cleveland. Nevertheless, I believe that the issue should be dealt with fairly, that legally the crimes of the victims do not neutralize the crimes of the murderers.
My partner speculated that the man had been poisoned to death, and the more I thought about it, the more I thought it was unusual. I remember Holmes sniffing the lips of the dead man, and I was sure that he must have detected something that would make him think so. Moreover, there are neither wounds nor signs of strangulation on the body, and if it is not poisoning and death, then what is the cause of death? But, on the other hand, who is the blood stain on the floor? No signs of a writhing were found in the house, nor was the murder weapon used by the deceased to injure the other party. As long as this kind of question is not answered, I think that whether it is Holmes or me, it is not easy to sleep peacefully. His calm and confident demeanor convinced me that he had an opinion on the whole plot; though I could not guess for a moment what his content was.
Holmes came back very late. I believe that he would never have listened to a concert until such a late hour. When he returned, dinner was already on the table.
"Today's music is so good." Holmes sat down as he spoke, "Do you remember Darwin's vision of music?" He believes that long before humans had the ability to speak, humans had the ability to create music and appreciate music. Maybe that's why we're incredibly susceptible to music. In the depths of our hearts, there are still some vague memories of the hazy years of the early chaos of the world. ”
I said, "This view seems too broad. ”
Holmes said: "If a man is to explain nature, then his field of imagination must be as vast as nature. What's going on? You're not quite the same today as usual. The Brexton Road case has distracted you. ”
I said, "Honestly, this case really makes me uneasy. After that experience in Afghanistan, I should have been stronger. In the Battle of Mewande, I also saw my comrades in blood and flesh, but I did not feel afraid. ”
"I can understand that. There are some mysterious things about this case, which has aroused the imagination. If there is no imagination, fear does not exist. Have you read the evening newspaper? ”
The evening newspaper described the case in fairly detail. But there is no mention of a woman whose wedding ring fell on the floor while carrying the body. It would be nice not to mention that. ”
"Why?"
"Look at this advertisement," said Holmes, "and this morning, immediately after the case occurred, I put an advertisement in the newspapers. ”
He handed me the newspaper, and I glanced at the place he was pointing. This is the first ad for "Lost and Found". The ad read: "A wedding ring was picked up this morning between Brixton Road, the White Hart Tavern and the Dutch Woods." If you lose, please contact Dr. B Watson at 9:00 p.m. on Baker Street tonight. ”
"Please don't be surprised," said Holmes, "and the advertisement uses your name." If I had my own name, some of these stupid detectives might have figured it out, and they would have to meddle in it. ”
"It's nothing," I replied, "but if someone comes to collect it, I don't have a ring." ”
"Oh, yes," he said and handed me a ring, "this one is full of power to deal with the past." Almost exactly the same as the original. ”
"So who do you expect to pick up this lost property?"
"Well, it's the man in the brown coat, our red-faced friend in square boots." If he didn't come himself, he would send a fellow party member. ”
"Doesn't he think it's too dangerous to do so?"
"Never. If I have a good view of the case – I have every reason to be confident that I didn't read it wrong. The man would rather risk anything than lose the ring. I think the ring fell off when he leaned over to look at the body of Cone, but he didn't notice it at the time. After leaving the house, he realized that he had lost the ring, so he hurried back. However, at this time he found that, due to his own carelessness and failure to extinguish the candle, the police had arrived in the house. At such a time, he appeared at the door of the house, probably suspected, and therefore had to pretend to be drunk. You don't have to put yourself in the shoes of the matter: after he thinks about it carefully, he must have thought, or maybe he dropped the ring on the road after he left the house. So what to do? Naturally, he had to hurry to look for it in the evening newspaper, hoping to find something in the pick-up box. He must be very happy when he sees this advertisement, he is almost overjoyed, how can he be afraid that this is a trap? In his opinion, why the search for a ring must be related to the assassination was unreasonable. He will come, he must come. You'll be able to see him in an hour. ”
"What will he do when he comes?" I asked.
"Ah, when the time comes, you'll let me deal with him." Do you have any weapons? ”
"I have an old military revolver and some bullets."
"You'd better wipe it clean and load it with bullets." This guy is quasi-outlaw. Although I can catch him unexpectedly, I should be prepared, just in case. ”
I went back to the bedroom and prepared as he told. When I came out with my pistol, I saw that the dining table had been cleaned up and Holmes was fiddling with his beloved toy—playing with his violin.
When I came in, Holmes said, "The case is getting more and more eyebrow-raising. I sent a telegram to the United States, which had just received a call back, proving that I was right about the case. ”
I hurriedly asked, "Is that so?" ”
"It would be better if I put my violin on a new string," said Holmes, "and you put the pistol in your pocket." When the guy comes in, you're going to talk to him in your usual language, and I'll deal with the rest. Don't make a fuss, so as not to startle the snake. ”
I looked at my watch and said, "It's eight o'clock now." ”
"Yeah, maybe he'll be there in a few minutes." Leave the door open a little. Come on. Stick the key inside the door. Thank you! This is a rare and broken book that I bought by chance at a book stall yesterday. The book, entitled On the Laws of The Peoples, was written in Latin and published in Liège, Belgium, in 1642. When this little brown book was published, Charlie's head was still firmly on his neck (1). ”
"Who is the printer?"
"It's Felice de Croy, I don't know what kind of character it is. On the title page in front of the book read 'The Book of Gulemi White', the ink has long since faded. I don't know who William White was, presumably a seventeenth-century positivist lawyer whose calligraphy carried a jurist style. I think, the man is coming. ”
As he said this, he overheard the bell ringing on the door. Holmes stood up softly and moved his chair toward the door. We heard the maid walking across the porch and heard the sound of her opening the latch.
"Does Dr. Watson live here?" A man with a rude but clear tone asked. We did not hear the servant's answer, only that the gate was closed again and someone came upstairs. The footsteps were slow, as if dragging their steps. My friend listened sideways, his face showing a look of shock. Footsteps slowly followed the aisle, and then a slight knock was heard.
"Please come in." I said aloud.
The person who came in was not the fierce god we expected, but a wrinkled old Taiping, who staggered into the room. When she came in, she was suddenly illuminated by the light, as if she had lost her eyes. She stood there after the ceremony, her old eyes staring at us dazedly, her spasmodic trembling fingers constantly groping in her pocket. I glanced at my partner, only to see that he looked unhappy, and I had to pretend to be calm.
(1) Refers to King Charles I of England. He was sentenced to death on charges of national traitor after being tried by a court organized by Parliament on the day of the year. - Translator's Note
This old Taiping took out an evening newspaper, pointed to the advertisement we had put up, and said, "I am here for this matter, gentlemen," and she said, and she gave a deep salute.
The advertisement said that a wedding ring was picked up on Brickston Road. This is my daughter Cerlie's, who was only married this time last year, and her husband works as an accountant on a British ship. If he came back and found her ring gone, who would know what he was going to do. I couldn't believe it. He was often impatient, and after drinking some wine, he became even more irritable. Sorry, that's right, last night she went to the circus, and it was with—"
"Is this her ring?" I asked.
Old Taiping cried out, "Thank God! Cerley is going to die happily tonight. That was the ring she had lost. ”
I picked up a pencil and asked, "Where do you live?" ”
"Hornsdi pond area, Duncan Street. It's far from here. ”
Holmes said suddenly, "Brixton Road is not between the Hundish pond area and the circus." ”
Old Taiping turned his face, and a pair of small red eyes looked sharply at Holmes, and she said, "That gentleman just asked me for my address." Cerlie lives in the Pekkham area, Mayfield Apartments NO. ”
"Your last name is ——?"
"My surname is Soye, my daughter's name is Dennis, and his husband's name is Tom Dennis. He was a beautiful and upright young man on the ship, an accountant in the company; but as soon as he came ashore, he played with women and drank—"
"This is your ring, Mrs. Soye," I interrupted her at the suggestion of my partner, "and this ring is obviously your daughter's." I'm glad that things are now back to their original owners. ”
After saying a thousand words of thanks, the old Taiping wrapped the ring, put it in his pocket, and dragged himself downstairs. As soon as she left the room, Holmes got up and ran into his room. A few seconds later, he came out, already in his coat and tied up his scarf. Holmes said in a hurry, "I will follow her." She must be a party member, and she will take me to the murderer. Don't sleep, wait for me. The door had just slammed shut when the guests went out, and Holmes went downstairs. I looked out the window and saw the old Taiping walking feebly on the other side of the road, with Holmes trailing not far behind her. At this moment, I thought to myself: If Holmes's whole view is good, he will now go straight to the tiger's den. He didn't need to tell me to wait for him, because it was impossible to sleep until I heard the outcome of his adventures.
It was nearly nine o'clock when Holmes went out. I don't know how long he was going, so I just sat in my room smoking a pipe and flipping through a copy of Henri Murge's Bohemi Biography. After ten o'clock, I heard the footsteps of the female employer going back to her room to sleep. At eleven o'clock (1) o'clock, the heavy footsteps of the landlady passed by the door, and she also went back to her room to sleep, and it was only at twelve o'clock that I heard Holmes open the spring lock on the door with the key. As soon as he came into the room, I could tell from his face that he hadn't succeeded. Whether he was happy or annoyed, it seemed that he had been at war in his heart. In an instant, joy triumphed over chagrin, and Holmes burst out laughing.
(1) The Biography of Bohemi is a play by the nineteenth-century French playwright Anne Mulje, a masterpiece depicting the life and spiritual outlook of the optimists (i.e., the Bohemis) at that time. - Translator's Note
"I can't let the people at Scotland Yard know anything about this." Holmes said loudly, and sat down in his chair, "I have laughed them enough, and this time they will not give up." However, they just know it, laugh at me, and I don't care, sooner or later I will get my face back. ”
I asked, "What the hell is going on?" ”
"Ah, let me tell you about my failure, it's nothing. The guy didn't go far and limped off with a sore foot. She stopped abruptly and stopped a passing carriage. I leaned closer to her to hear where she had hired the car; I didn't need to be so impatient, because she was so loud that she could hear her across the road. She said out loud: 'To the Hungzidi Pool district, Duncan Street. I thought she was telling the truth. I saw her get into the car and jump into the back of the carriage. This is a skill that every detective must master. Okay, let's move forward. The carriage did not stop all the way to its destination. When I was almost at the front of the gate, I jumped out of the car and strolled along the road. I saw the carriage stop, and the coachman jumped down, opened the door and waited, but no one came down. I walked over to the coachman, who was groping around in the dark carriage, his mouth dry and unclean, swearing in a messy manner, and the words I had never heard were the 'best' words I had ever heard. The passengers were long gone. I think he's going to have to wait for him to get the fare. We went to inquire about it, but there lived a well-behaved framer named Keswick, and I had never heard of anyone named Soye or Dennis living there. ”
I exclaimed in shock, "Are you saying that the frail and faltering old Taiping was able to hide from you and the coachman and jump down as the car was moving?" ”
Holmes snapped, "What an old woman, damn it!" The two of us are the old woman, and we are so angry with people. He must have been a young lad, and he was a shrewd and capable lad. Not only that, but he must have been a great actor, and he played it to an unparalleled degree. Obviously, he knew that someone was following him, so he used this, and he slipped away by taking advantage of me. This incident shows that the man we are going to catch now is not just a single person, as I originally imagined, he has many friends, and they are willing to take risks for him. Hey, Doctor, it looks like you're tired, listen to me, please go to sleep. ”
I did feel very tired, so I followed his words and went back to the house to sleep. Sherlock Holmes was left alone at the slightly burning fire. In this long night of silence, I still heard his melancholy voice whispering back, and I knew that he was still pondering the strange problem he was seriously working on.
Six Tebius Grayson shines his hand
The next day, newspapers carried a barrage of news about the so-called "Brixton Case Solved." Each newspaper has a long-term story, and some have written editorials. Some of these news I haven't even heard of. My scrapbook still has quite a few newspaper clippings about the case. Now an excerpt from it is attached below: The Daily Telegraph reports that there is no more tragic case in the criminal record. The victim had a German name, no other motive, and the vicious writing on the wall; all this suggested that it was the work of a group of outlaw political prisoners and revolutionaries. There are many schools of socialist parties in the United States, and the dead are undoubtedly traced here and poisoned because they have violated their unwritten laws. The article briefly refers to the german secret court case, the mineral spring case, the Italian charcoal party case, the Marquise Blancville case, the Darwin theory case, the Malthusian principle case and the Ritcliffe Highway murder case, and at the end of the article, it advises the government that in the future, foreigners in England should be more closely monitored. The Banner commented that such lawless atrocities often occurred under the liberal party. These atrocities are the result of popular unrest and the weakening of government power. The deceased was an American gentleman who had been hanging out in the City of London for weeks. Before his death, he lived in the apartment of Mrs. Cumberwell, Tolkuri, and Mrs. Xia Pengjie. He was accompanied by his personal secretary, Mr. Joseph Stanjerson, on a travel tour. After bidding farewell to the landlady on Tuesday, Thursday, the two went to Euston Station to take the express train to Liverpool. At that time, someone else saw them on the platform of the station, and they have not been found since. Later, it was reported that the body of Mr. Coneber had been found in an empty house on Briscottton Road, a few miles from Euston Station. How he got here and how he was killed remains incomprehensible. The whereabouts of Stan Jieson are still unknown. I am pleased to learn that scotland yard detectives Rethride and Gladson are investigating the case at the same time, and I am convinced that the case will soon be known. The Daily News reported that this must be a political crime. Because of the tyranny of the governments of the continent and the hatred of liberalism, many people have been expelled from our land. If their past actions are tolerated and not accountable, the popularity of this group may become good citizens. Among these exiles, there is a strict "law" that if violated, they must be executed. Every effort must now be made to find his secretary, Stan Jieson, in order to identify certain features of the habits of the deceased. The address of the deceased's residence in London was known, which made the case a big step forward. The finding was purely due to the wit of Mr. Glaison at Scotland Yard.
At breakfast, Holmes and I read the reports together; they seemed to amus him.
"I told you long ago that, whatever the circumstances, the credit belongs to both Lestrade and Gladson."
"It depends on the outcome."
"Oh, man, it doesn't matter. If the murderer is caught, it is naturally because of the reluctance of the two of them; if the murderer escapes, they can say: Although it has been difficult, but... In any case, good things are always theirs, and bad things are always attributed to others. No matter what they do, there will always be people who sing praises to them. There is a French proverb that goes: 'The fool is stupid, but there are more stupid fools than him who applaud him.' '“
As we were talking, there was a sudden clutter of footsteps in the aisles and on the stairs, mixed with the complaining of the landlady, and I couldn't help but shout, "What's going on?" ”
"This is the Baker Street detachment of the detective team." My partner said with a lot of concern. As I spoke, I saw six street children rushing in, and I had never seen such a very dirty, ragged child.
"Standing upright!" Holmes shouted. So the six little hooligans stood there in a line like six little clay men who were not decent. "Later you will ask Wiggins to come up alone and report, and the rest will have to wait in the street." Found it, Wiggins? ”
One of the children replied, "No, sir, we haven't found it yet." ”
"I reckon you haven't found it either, so you must continue to look for it, and it's not over if you don't find it." "It's your wage," Holmes gave each a shilling. "Well, let's go now, and I'll be waiting for you to bring good news the next time I report."
Holmes waved, and the children went downstairs like a nest of rats. Then came their shrill noise from the street.
Holmes said: "These little guys have a greater job than a dozen official detectives." As soon as the official appeared, the people shut up. However, these little guys can go anywhere and hear anything. They are clever, like the tip of a needle, seamless. They just lack organization. ”
I asked, "Did you hire them for this case on Brickston Road?" ”
"Yes, there's one thing I want to figure out, it's just a matter of time. yes! Now we're going to hear some news! You see, Gleeson is walking down the street toward us. His face was full of pride, and I knew he had come to us. You see, he stood. That's him! ”
The doorbell rang violently, and in the blink of an eye, the hairdressed detective jumped upstairs step by step and broke into our living room.
"Dear friend," he exclaimed, clutching Holmes's cold hand tightly, "give me congratulations!" I have made this case as clear as day and day. ”
I seemed to see that there was a hint of anxiety on Holmes's expressionful face.
He asked, "Are you saying you're already doing it?" ”
"That's right! Really, my dude, even the murderer was caught! ”
"So what's his name?"
"Arthur Xia Pengjie, a lieutenant in the Royal Navy," Grayson said proudly as he rubbed one of his fat hands triumphantly and raised his chest.
When Holmes heard this, he breathed a sigh of relief and smiled unconsciously.
"Please sit down and smoke a cigar." He said, "We'd love to know how you did it. Drink some watered whiskey? ”
"Drink a little, drink a little," replied the detective, "these two days have taken a lot of effort, but I have been exhausted." You see, although manual labor is not much, the brain is very tense. You know, Mr. Holmes, because we're all doing the work of the brain. ”
Holmes said solemnly: "You are too much of a prize. Let's hear how you got such a gratifying result. ”
The detective sat down in an armchair, took a sip of his cigar, patted his thigh and said happily:
"It's ridiculous, Lestrade, this fool, he still thinks he's smart, but he's completely mistaken. He was looking for the whereabouts of the secretary Stan Jieson. This guy, like an unborn child, had nothing to do with the case. I dare say that he has probably caught that guy by now. ”
He laughed triumphantly at this point, laughing uncontrollably.
"So, how did you get the clue?"
"Ah, I'll tell you all. Of course, Dr. Watson, this is an absolute secret, and only we can talk to each other. The first difficulty that must be overcome is to find out the origin of this American. Some people may want to put up an advertisement and wait for people to come and report it, or wait for the relatives and friends of the deceased to come out and automatically report some news. That's not how Gleeson works. Do you remember the hat next to the deceased? ”
"Remember," said Holmes, "that I bought it from the John Andrew's Hat Shop on Camberwell Road." ”
When Gleeson heard this, he immediately had a very frustrated look on his face. He said:
"I didn't expect you to notice that too. Have you ever been to that hat shop? ”
"Ha!" Gleeson relaxed his mind, "No matter how small it may seem, you should never miss any opportunity." ”
"Nothing is insignificant to a great man." Holmes said as if he were quoting some most reasonable quote.
"Well, I found the owner, Andreu, and I asked him if he had ever sold a hat with such a large number and this style. They checked the sales book and quickly found that the hat had been delivered to Mr. Cyber, a resident of the apartment in Taulquilly, Xia Pengjie. So I found the man's address. ”
"Nice, nice job!" Holmes whispered praise.
"I went on to visit Mrs. Xia Pengjie," the detective went on, "and I found that her face was very pale, and her expression was very uneasy. Her daughter was also in the room—she was such a beautiful girl. When I talked to her, her eyes were red and her lips were trembling unceasingly. Naturally, none of this escaped my eyes. So I began to doubt. Mr. Holmes, you know, when you find the right clue, it is a kind of energy, only to feel that the mixture is so comfortable that it makes people shiver. I asked, 'Have you heard the news that your former tenant, Mr. Coneber, was assassinated?' ’”
The lady nodded, and she didn't seem to be able to speak. Her daughter couldn't help but shed tears. The more I looked at it, the more I felt that they must have known about the case.
"I asked, 'What time does Mr. Cymbow leave you for the station?'
"At eight o'clock," she said, spitting unceasingly and suppressing her agitation,' said his secretary, Mr. Stan Jiesson, of two trains to Liverpool, one at nine thirty-fifteen and one at eleven. He was on the first train. ”
"Is this the last time you'll see each other?"
As soon as I asked this question, the woman suddenly became faceless. After a while of hard work, she replied, 'It's the last time.' But her voice was hoarse and unnatural as she spoke.
After a moment of silence, the girl spoke. Her attitude is calm and her speech is clear.
"She said, 'There's nothing good in lying, Mom, let's be honest with this gentleman.' Later we did see Mr. Cone again. ”
'May God forgive you!' Mrs. Xia Pengjie stretched out her hands, shouted, and leaned back on the back of the chair, 'You have hurt your brother!' ”
"Arthur must have wanted us to tell the truth." The girl replied firmly.
"I said, 'You'd better tell me all now.' It is better to talk about it like this than not talk about it at all. Besides, you don't know how much we know. ”
"It's all you, Alice!' Her mother said in a loud voice, and then turned to me and said, 'I'll tell you all about it, sir.' Don't think that I'm anxious when I mention my son because he has anything to do with this murder case. He was completely innocent and innocent. But my concern is that he seems suspicious to you or others. However, this is absolutely impossible. His nobility, his profession, his past all attest to this. ”
"I said, 'You'd better keep the facts and the facts out.' Believe me, if your son is truly innocent and innocent, he will never be wronged. ”
"She said, 'Alice, you'd better go out and let's talk to the two of us.'" So her daughter walked out. She went on to say, 'Well, sir, I didn't want to tell you this, but my daughter has broken it, and now there is no other way, so I have to say it.' Since I am going to say it, I will not reserve it at all. ”
"I said, 'That's really smart.'"
"Mr. Conebo stayed with us for almost three weeks. He and his secretary, Mr. Stan Jiesson, had been traveling on the European continent. I saw that they had a Copenhagen label on each of their boxes, which showed that was the last place they visited. Stan was a taciturn and cultured man; but his master—it was terrible, completely different. This man behaved roughly and behaved indecently. On the night they moved in, Cone was so drunk that he didn't wake up until twelve o'clock in the afternoon the next day. His attitude towards the maids was frivolous and vulgar, and it was simply disgusting. Worst of all, he treated my daughter Alice with such an attitude. He had talked nonsense to her more than once. Fortunately, the daughter is too young to understand. Once, he actually took my daughter in his arms and wrapped his arms around her tightly. His lawless behavior, even his secretary scolded him for behaving too vulgarly, simply not a person. ”
"But why do you have to put up with all this?"' I asked, 'I think you can get rid of the tenant as long as you want.' ”
"Mrs. Xia Pengjie blushed when I asked her, and she said, 'If I had refused on the day he came, how good it would have been.'" However, it is because there is a tempting point. Their rent is one pound per person per day, fourteen pounds a week, and it is the off-season when guests are scarce. I was a widow, my son served in the Navy, and he spent a lot of money. I was reluctant to let go of this income, so I tried to tolerate it as much as possible. However, this time, he was making such a fuss that I justified him, and that's why they moved away. ”
"'And later?'"
"Later, when I saw him leave in the car, my heart relaxed. My son is now on vacation. But I didn't tell him any of these things, because he was short-tempered and he loved his sister very much. After the two men moved away, I closed the door and got a big pimple in my heart. Oh my God, less than an hour later, someone called for the door again, and it turned out that Cone Bo had returned. He looked very excited, and obviously drank a lot. He burst into the room, where my daughter and I were sitting; he said something about the donkey lips and didn't say he had caught the train. Later, he rushed at Alice, and he dared to talk to Alice in front of me and suggested that she run away with him. He said to my daughter, 'You've grown up, and no law can govern you.' What I have is money, don't worry about this old wife. Come with me now. You can be blessed like a princess. Poor Alice was so frightened that she kept hiding from him. But as soon as he grabbed her wrist and pulled it hard against the door, I screamed in fright. It was at this time that my son Arthur walked in. What happens next, I don't know. All I heard was scolding and writhing, messing up, but it frightened me, and I didn't even dare to lift my head. Later, when he looked up, he saw Arthur standing in the doorway laughing, with a wooden stick in his hand. Arthur said: "I don't think this living treasure will come to our trouble again." Let me go out and follow him and see what he's really doing. After saying this, he picked up his hat and ran into the street. The next morning we heard the news that Mr. Cymbeuber had been murdered. ”
"This is what Mrs. Xia Pengjie said herself. She gasped and paused. Sometimes her voice was so low that I couldn't hear it clearly. But I had shorthanded all that she had said, and there was nothing wrong with it. ”
Holmes yawned and said, "This is indeed very beautiful. What happened next? ”
The detective continued: "When Mrs. Xia Pengjie stopped, I saw the key to the whole case. So I stared at her with a look that was effective with women and asked her son when he came home.
"I don't know.' She replied.
"Don't know?"
"I don't know. He had a spring-locked key, and he would open the door himself and come in. ”
"Did you come back after you slept?"
"Yes."
"What time did you sleep?"
"It's about eleven o'clock."
"In this way, your son has been out for at least two hours."
"Is it possible to go out for four or five hours?"
"It's also possible."
"What did he do in those hours?"
"I don't know.' She replied, her lips white when she spoke.
"Of course, at this point, there is no need to ask more about anything else. After I found the whereabouts of Lieutenant Xia Peng, I took two police officers and arrested him. When I patted him on the shoulder and warned him to honestly follow us, he said brazenly, 'I think you arrested me because you thought I had something to do with the murder of the bad guy Cone.' We didn't mention it to him, he did say it himself, which is even more suspicious. ”
"Very suspicious." Holmes said.
At that time he was still holding the big stick that her mother said was used to chase the cone. It is a very strong oak stick. ”
"So what about your high opinion?"
"Ah, according to my opinion, he chased Cone all the way to Blexton Road. Then they quarreled again. Between the quarrels, Cone Bo was hit with a fierce stick, perhaps on the heart socket, so although he was killed, he did not leave any wounds. It was raining heavily that night and there was no one around. So Xia Pengjie dragged the corpse to the empty house. Candles, blood stains, handwriting on the walls, rings, etc., are just tricks to lead the police into a lost end. ”
Holmes said in a tone of praise: "Well done! Gladson, you've come a long way, and it looks like sooner or later you're going to get ahead. ”
The detective replied proudly: "I think this matter is finally done cleanly." But the young man himself confessed that after he had chased him, Conebo found him, so he escaped in a carriage. On his way home, he met an old colleague who had been on the ship in the past, and he had accompanied the old colleague for a long time. But when asked about the address of his old colleague, his answer was not satisfactory. I think the plot of this case is very consistent. The funny thing is Rethytriede, who went astray from the start. I'm afraid he won't get any results. hey! Just say him, and he comes. ”
The man who came in was indeed Rethytriede. By the time we talked, he had gone upstairs and followed him into the house. Usually, the arrogance and confidence that can be seen in his appearance and clothing are now gone. I saw that he looked panicked, his face was full of sorrow, and his clothes were disheveled. He had come here apparently with something to ask Holmes for advice, for when he saw his colleague he became uneasy and confused. He stood in the middle of the house, fiddling with his hat with both hands. Finally, he said: "This is indeed a very unsolved case, an incredible strange thing. ”
Gladson said triumphantly, "Ah, do you see it that way too, Mr. Reststrade?" I knew you would have come to that conclusion. Have you found that secretary Mr. Stan Festival? ”
Restrade said with a heavy heart: "The secretary, Mr. Stanjson, was assassinated at the Hotel Holliday at about six o'clock this morning. ”
Seven A ray of light
The news that Lestrade brought us was both important and sudden, completely unexpected. When we heard this, we were all stunned and dumbfounded. Gladson jerked himself out of his chair and flipped over the remaining whiskey in his glass. I stared silently at Holmes, only to see his lips closed and a pair of eyebrows pressed tightly above his eyes.
Holmes murmured, "Stanjösson has also been assassinated, and the case is more complicated." ”
"It's complicated enough," complained Restrid, as he sat down in his chair, "I feel like I'm at some military conference, and I can't touch it at all." ”
Gleeson stammered and asked, "You, is this news true?" ”
Rethrid said: "I just came from the room where he lived, and I was the first person to find out about this situation. ”
Holmes said, "We were listening to Gladson's high opinion on this case. Could you please also tell us what you saw and what you did? ”
"I have no objection," replied Reststrade, then sitting down, "and I confess frankly that I thought the murder of Cone was related to Stan Jieson. This new development made me understand that I was completely mistaken. I had this idea in mind, so I set out to investigate the whereabouts of the secretary. Someone once saw the two of them together at Euston Station at about 8:30 p.m. on the third day. At two o'clock in the morning of the fourth day, the body of Coneber was found on Brickston Road. The problem I faced was figuring out what Stan was doing from 8:30 until the murder, and where he went. I sent a telegram to Liverpool explaining Stan's appearance and asking them to monitor American ships; I looked in every hotel and apartment near Euston Station. You see, I thought at the time that if Cone and his friend had broken up, it was common sense that Stan would have to find a place to stay near the station that night, and he would not come back to the station the next morning. ”
Holmes said: "They probably made an appointment with the meeting place first. ”
"It turns out to be so. Yesterday I ran all night to inquire about his whereabouts, but to no avail. I started visiting again early this morning. At eight o'clock, I arrived at the Hollyday Inn on Little George Street. When I asked if there was a Mr. Stanjerson staying here, they immediately replied that there was.
"They said, 'You must be the gentleman he is waiting for, and he has been waiting for a gentleman for two days.'"
'Where is he now?' I asked.
"He's still asleep upstairs." He had commanded him not to wake him up until nine o'clock. ”
"I'm going to go up to him right away," I said.
"I was so calculating, I appeared unexpectedly, which may have surprised him, and in his surprise, he may have confided something. A shoe-shine tea house volunteered to take me up. This room is on the third floor and has a not long corridor with direct access. After the tea house pointed out the door to me, I was about to go downstairs, I suddenly saw a scene that made me very nauseous, wanted to vomit, although I had twenty years of experience, at this time I could not sustain myself, a crooked blood flowed out from under the door, all the way across the aisle, accumulated at the foot of the opposite wall. I couldn't help but scream, and when the teahouse heard it, it turned and walked back. When he saw this, he was so frightened that he almost fainted. The door was locked upside down, and we slammed it open with our shoulders and went inside. Inside the house, the window was open, and next to the window lay the body of a man, wearing pajamas, curled up in a ball. He had long since lost his breath, and his limbs were already stiff and cold. We turned the body over and looked at it, and the shoe shiners immediately recognized it as the occupant of the house, named Stan Jieson. The cause of death was that the left side of the body was stabbed deeply with a knife, which must have hurt the heart. There is also a most bizarre situation, guess what is on the face of the deceased? ”
When I heard this, I felt creepy and terrible. Holmes replied at once: "It is the word 'Ratchet', written in blood." ”
"That's exactly the word." Rathrid said there was still fear in his voice. For a moment, we were all silent.
The assassination of this hidden murderer seems to be very step-by-step and at the same time incomprehensible, which makes his crime even more terrible. Although my nerves are also very strong in the battlefield full of dead and wounded, it is inevitable that I will shudder when I think of this scene.
Lestrade went on to say, "Someone has seen this murderer. When a milk delivery child was going to the milk room, he happened to pass by the small alley behind the hotel, which led to the carriage room behind the hotel. He saw the ladder that he usually put on the ground erect, facing a window on the third floor, which was wide open. After the boy had walked by, he had looked back and saw a man coming down the ladder. Only to see him walk down unhurriedly and generously. The boy thought it was the carpenter in the hotel who was working, so he didn't pay special attention to this person, but he just thought that it was too early to go to work. He seemed to remember that the man was a large man with a red face and a long brown coat. After he committed the crime, he must have stayed in the room for a while. Because we found blood in the basin water, it means that the murderer once washed his hands; there are also blood stains on the sheets, which shows that he calmly wiped the knife after committing the crime. ”
As soon as I heard that the murderer's figure and appearance matched Holmes's deduction, I glanced at him, but there was no trace of pride on his face.
Holmes asked, "Have you not found any clues in the house that could provide for the hunt for the murderer?" ”
"Nothing. Stan Thyson carried a money bag with him, but it seemed that he usually carried it, because he was in charge of the expenses. There were more than eighty pounds of cash in the money bag, and there were many pennies. These crimes seem unusual, and whatever their motives may be, they will never be for the sake of money. There were also no documents or diaries in the victim's pockets, only a telegram from Cleveland a month earlier, which read 'JH.' Now Europe', the cable is unsigned. ”
Holmes asked, "Nothing else?" ”
"Nothing important anymore. There is also a novel on the bed that the deceased read when he was asleep. His pipe was placed on a chair next to the bed. There was also a glass of water on the table. On the windowsill there was a wooden box containing ointment, and inside were two pills. ”
Holmes jerked up from his chair and cried out in delight. He said loudly with a furrowed brow, "This is the last link, and my judgment is now complete." ”
The two detectives looked at him in amazement.
My friend said confidently, "I have every clue that makes up this knot in my hands." Of course, the details have yet to be added. But from the time Cymber broke up with Stan Jieson at the train station to the time Stan Jieson's body was found, I knew all the main plots, as if I had seen them with my own eyes. I'm going to give you a proof of my opinion. Did you bring those two pills with you? ”
"Here I am," said Rastrade, and took out a small white box, "the pills, the money bag, the telegram, and I wanted to keep them in a more secure place in the police station." I brought the pills, just by accident. I must state that I don't think it's anything important. ”
"Give it to me," said Holmes, "Hey, Doctor," he turned to me again,
"Is this a normal pill?"
These pills are indeed unusual. Pearl-like gray, small and round, it is simply transparent to the bright light. I said, "Judging from the two characteristics of light weight and transparency, I think the pills can dissolve in water." ”
"Exactly," replied Holmes, "would you please go downstairs and take the poor dog up?" This dog has been sick, didn't the landlady ask you to kill it yesterday so that it would not suffer alive? ”
I went downstairs and picked up the dog. The dog had difficulty breathing and had sluggish eyes, indicating that it would not live long. Indeed, its snow-white lips show that it has long exceeded the lifespan of ordinary dogs. I put a cushion on the carpet and put it on top.
"I'll cut one of them in half now," said Holmes, and took out a knife and cut the pill open, "and put half a pill back in the box for future use, and I put it in a glass with a spoonful of water in it." Please see, our doctor friend's words are right, it immediately dissolved in the water. ”
"It's interesting," said Reststrade in an angry tone, thinking Holmes was teasing him, "but I don't see what this has to do with Stan's death." ”
"Be patient, my friend, be patient!" Then you will understand that it has a lot to do with it. Now I add some milk to it and it tastes good, and then I put it in front of the dog, and he will lick it all at once. ”
As he spoke, he poured the liquid from his glass onto a plate and placed it in front of the dog, which quickly licked it clean. Holmes's earnestness had convinced us, and we all sat there quietly, watching the dog attentively, expecting something amazing to happen. However, nothing particular happened, and the dog was still lying on the mat, breathing hard. Obviously, the pill has neither good nor bad effects on it.
Holmes had already pulled out his watch and looked at it, and the time passed minute by minute, but to no avail, and his face looked extremely annoyed and disappointed. He bit his lip and tapped his fingers on the table, showing a very anxious look. His emotions were extremely excited, and my heart couldn't help but feel sorry for him. But the two official detectives had a sarcastic smile on their faces, and they were glad to see that Holmes had been frustrated.
"It cannot be an accident," said Holmes at last loudly, as he stood up and walked around the room in an agitated mood, "it can never be merely by coincidence. In the case of Cymber I suspected that there would be some kind of pill, which was now really discovered after Stan Jieson's death. But they didn't work. What the hell is going on? To be sure, the series of inferences I made can never be fallacious! No way! But this poor thing didn't go wrong. Oh, I see! I understand! Holmes, screaming with pleasure, ran to the pill box, took out another one, cut it in half, dissolved half of it in water, added milk, and placed it in front of the dog. The unfortunate little creature had not even completely wet its tongue, and its four legs convulsed and trembled, and then died straight as if it had been killed by lightning.
Holmes took a long breath and wiped the beads of sweat from his forehead. "My faith is not strong enough; I should have just realized that if a plot seems to contradict a series of inferences, then there must be some other way of explaining the plot. The two pills in the small box, one was a potent poison, and the other was completely non-toxic. In fact, before I saw this little box, I should have deduced it a long time ago. ”
I think that Holmes's last words are so astonishing that it is difficult to believe that he is sane. But the dead dog was clearly in front of him, proving that his deduction was correct. I seemed to feel that the doubts in my mind had gradually disappeared, and I began to have a vague understanding of the truth of the case.
Holmes continued, "All this may sound strange to you, for when you began your investigation, you did not grasp the importance of the only correct clue before you. I was fortunate enough to grasp this clue, and everything that has happened since then has been enough to confirm my original assumptions, and these things are indeed the inevitable result of logic. Therefore, the things that confuse you and obscure the facts of the case will enlighten me and strengthen my assertion. It's a mistake to confuse monsters with mystery. The most bland crime is often the most mysterious, for it does not see anything new or special enough to serve as a basis for reasoning. If the body of the victim in this case had been found on the main road, and there were no unusual and appalling circumstances that made the case stand out, then the murder would have been much more difficult to resolve. Therefore, the breaking of the plot not only does not increase the difficulty of resolving the case at all, but also reduces the difficulty of handling the case. ”
Mr. Gleeson had been very impatient when he heard this discussion, and he could not bear it any longer. He said, "You see, Mr. Holmes, we all recognize you as a shrewd and capable man, and you have your own set of working methods. But what we are asking of you now is not just talking about theory and preaching, but to catch this murderer. I have spoken out about what I have been doing, and it seems that I am wrong. Xia Pengjie, a young man, could not have been implicated in the second murder. Restrade kept track of his Stan, and it seemed that he was wrong too. If you say a little bit east and a little bit west, it seems to know more than we know. But now is the time, and we think we have the right to ask you to say with gusto how much you know about the facts of the case. Can you name the murderer? ”
Restrade also said: "I can't help but think that Gladson's statement is correct, sir. Both of us tried, and we both failed. Since I came to you, you have said more than once that you have obtained all the evidence you need. Of course, now you shouldn't keep it secret. ”
I said, "If there is still a delay in catching the murderer, he may have the opportunity to commit a new atrocity." ”
When we were all forced to do so, Holmes showed hesitation. He kept walking around the room, his head hanging over his chest, frowning tightly, as he always did when he thought about it.
"There will be no more assassinations," he said suddenly, standing firmly to us, "you can rest assured that this is no longer a problem." You ask me if I know the name of the murderer. I know. However, just knowing the name of the murderer is nothing, and if the murderer is caught, it is really skilled. I expected that soon I would be able to catch him. For this work, I am willing to personally arrange and personally start. But the method should be meticulous and thoughtful, because we have to deal with a very vicious and cunning person. And it turned out that he had a man as alert as he was helping him. As long as the murderer doesn't feel that anyone can get a clue, there is a chance to catch him. But if he had the slightest suspicion, he would change his name and immediately disappear among the four million inhabitants of the great city. I have no intention of hurting the feelings of both of you, but I must state that I do not think that the official detectives are in no way their opponents, and that is why I have not asked for your assistance. If I fail, of course, I cannot resign myself from asking you for your assistance in this layer. However, I am prepared to take on this responsibility. Now I would like to promise that as long as there is no harm in my overall planning, I will tell you immediately when the time comes. ”
Gladson and Reststrade were extremely unhappy with Holmes's assurances and such contemptuous mockery of the official detectives. When Gleson heard this, his face was flushed, all the way to the root of his hair; Restrade stared at a pair of round eyes, flashing with surprise and irritation. But before they could say anything, they heard a knock at the door, and it turned out to be the representative of the street children, the insignificant little Wiggins.
Wiggins raised his hand in salute and said, "Sir, please, the carriage has been shouted, just below." ”
"Good boy," said Holmes gently, "why don't you Scotland Yards use such handcuffs?" He continued, as he took a pair of steel handcuffs from the drawer and said, "Please see how easy the lock spring is, it will get stuck when you touch it." Lestrade said:
"As long as we can find someone to wear, this old-fashioned style is enough."
"Very good, very good." Holmes said, smiling, "It would be better to have the coachman carry the suitcase for me." Go and call him up, Wiggins. ”
I couldn't help but be surprised to hear this, because according to my partner, it seemed that he was going on a trip, but he never told me about it. There was only a small touring suitcase in the room, and he pulled it out and was busy tying the belt on the box. While he was busy, the coachman came into the room.
"Coachman, help me fasten this belt buckle." Holmes bent his knees and picked up the box there, and said without looking back.
The guy tensed his face and reluctantly stepped forward, holding out two hands to help. It was too late, it was too fast, only to hear the click of the steel handcuffs, and Holmes suddenly jumped up.
"Gentlemen," he said with a twinkle in his eye, "let me introduce you to Mr. Jefferson Houpo, the murderer of Cymber and Stanjerson. ”
It was just a matter of moments. I couldn't think twice. In this instant, the triumphant expression on Holmes's face, his loud voice, and the dazed, ferocious countenance of the coachman as he watched the shining handcuffs magically cuff his wrists, are still fresh in my memory. At that time, we froze like statues for a second or two. Then the coachman roared angrily, broke free of Holmes's grasp, and rushed toward the window, where he smashed the wooden frame and glass to pieces. But just as the coachman was about to get out, Gleason, Reststrade, and Holmes rushed up like a pack of hounds and pulled him back. A fierce brawl began. The man was unusually ferocious, and the four of us were repeatedly repelled by him. He seemed to have a crazy steak. His face and hands were severely cut as he jumped out of the window, and blood kept flowing, but his resistance did not weaken. It wasn't until Restrade put his hand around his neck and made him unable to get through it that he realized that the struggle was no longer helpful. That's it, we couldn't rest assured, so we tied his hands and feet again. After the bundle was done, we stood up and gasped unceasingly.
"Here his carriage is," said Holmes, "and take him to Scotland Yard in his carriage." "Well, gentlemen," he said with a happy smile, "we have finally come to an end in this little mysterious case. I now welcome any questions that you may have, and I will never refuse to respond again. ”
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