Sherlock Holmes Complete Works 1

Chapter 6 Research on Scarlet Characters 6
It was one o'clock in the afternoon when we left No. 3, Lauriston Gardens.We went first to a nearby telegraph office, where Holmes sent a long telegram, and then he ordered a cab to take us to the residence of the policeman in Reims.

Holmes said: "The evidence directly obtained is more important than anything else. Although I have a complete view of the case, it is better for us to find out what we need to know."

"Holmes, I don't understand. I'm afraid even you are not fully sure of the details you mentioned just now," I said.

"That's all true," he replied. "When I first got there, the first thing I noticed were two carriage tracks beside the curb. Because it's been sunny all week, only last night it rained for a long time." The rain, so such a deep mark must have been left there by the carriage after the rain last night. Also, there are horseshoe marks, one of which is clearer than the other three, so it can be concluded that it is just a new one. Since the carriage is It was raining, and there was no other car in the morning, so the car stopped there last night. I judged that it was the carriage that took the two people to the empty house."

"That seems simple enough," I said, "so how do you determine the height of one of them?"

"Oh, that's easy. The height of a man can be deduced from the size of his stride. No complicated calculations are needed, but there's no need to list numbers to upset you now. I've measured them on paths and in house dust. The man's pace. Then I verified my conjecture from the findings in the room. When most people write on the wall, they will instinctively write above the eye level, and the writing on the wall in the house is exactly six feet above the ground. It's just a coincidence. It's as simple as a child's game."

"How do you deduce his age?" I asked.

"There's no mystery in that, and if a man can leap four and a half feet without difficulty, he's certainly not an old man. There's a puddle just that wide in the garden path, and the square-toed boots go through it, And the patent leather boots went around, which is enough to prove it. Because only the footprints of the patent leather boots were left on the side of the puddle, and there were no footprints of the square-toed boots. In fact, I just put some observations I mentioned in that article. The concepts of reasoning and reasoning are applied to everyday life. Is there anything you don't understand?"

"Where are the fingernails and chegars?" I reminded him.

"The writing on the wall was written by a person dipped in blood with his index finger. With the help of a magnifying glass, it was found that some wall powder was scraped off during writing, indicating that this person's nails had not been trimmed. Otherwise, such a situation would never have occurred. I Some ash was collected from the floor. The ash was dark and flaky - characteristic of Indian chegar ash. I have made a special study of cigar ashes - I have written a monograph on it I'm not boasting, no matter what brand of cigar or tobacco ash left, I can tell the difference at a glance.

It was these subtleties that distinguished a well-trained detective from Gregsons and Raymonds. "

"Then why is the murderer's face red?" I asked again.

"Oh, that's a bolder guess, but I'm sure I'm not mistaken. But you'd better not ask me that question as the case is so far in the future."

I wiped my forehead with my hand and said: "I'm all confused, and the more I think about it, the more mysterious this case is. If there were really two people, how did these two people come to this empty house? They were sent here." And who is the coachman? How can one man force another to take poison? Where does the blood come from? If it is not for money, what is the murderer's purpose? And the woman's ring is Where did it come from? And most importantly, why did the murderer write 'revenge' in German before fleeing the scene? Honestly, I can't connect the facts. Not sure what you think about this string of questions .”

Hearing this, my companion smiled approvingly.

He said: "You have summed up the difficult points in this case very well and concisely. Although I have a clear view on the main situation, there are still many details that are not clear. As for the one that Ray Mired discovered In blood, that was just a trap to lead the police astray. The murderer wanted to imply that the Socialist Party or a secret society did it. It was not actually written by a German. Only the letter A is written in a somewhat Germanic way Germans always write in Latin script, so we can say with complete confidence that it was not written by the Germans, but imitated by a self-defeating man. This is nothing more than a ruse to mislead the investigation. Doctor, I don't want to Let me tell you more about this case. It is a well-known fact that once a magician has told the truth about his tricks, he will not be applauded; if I tell you too much about my method of work, you will think that I Just ordinary people."

I replied: "I would never have thought that. Sooner or later detective art will develop into an exact science, and you have almost established it by now."

Holmes blushed with joy at hearing my sincerity.I had long noticed that he was as sensitive to compliments on his detective skills as a girl was to compliments on her beauty.

"I'll tell you one more thing," said he, "that the man in the patent leather boots and the man in the square-toed boots not only came in the same carriage, but they walked the garden path in a very friendly way—and probably fought back. Arm in arm. They walked up and down for a while after they entered the room—more specifically, the one in the patent leather boots stood still, and only the one in the square-toed boots walked up and down. I could see it in the dust on the floor. And I can see that the guy in the square toe boots is getting more and more agitated. Because his steps are getting bigger and bigger. He's walking and talking, getting more and more agitated, and finally going into a rage, and then the tragedy happens .Okay, now I will tell you everything I know, and the rest is guesswork and deduction. Thanks to our solid foundation, we must hurry up, and I will listen to Norman Neruda in the afternoon. What about the music?"

During the conversation, the car passed through dark streets and alleys, and arrived at a dirty and remote alley.The coachman stopped the car, pointed to a narrow alley between black brick walls and said, "That's the Audley Court," pointing to a small alley with black brick walls, "I'll wait for you to come back here. "

We walked through the alley and entered a square compound.The Audley compound is not clean, the ground is paved with stone slabs and surrounded by simple houses.We made our way through the filthy crowds of children and through the drying clothes to find number 46. A bronze plaque with the name "Lance" is nailed to the door of number 46.We went to inquire, and the policeman was sleeping, so we waited for him in the small living room in front.

He came out visibly a little upset because we had disturbed him."I've reported that to the bureau," he said.

"We would like to ask you to tell the story in detail again." After speaking, Holmes took out a half-pound gold coin, fiddled with it consciously in his hand, and said to Lance, "We want to hear it from you." The policeman glanced at the coin, and replied briskly, "I'd like to tell you all I know."

"Speak, then, and let me listen."

Lance sat on the sofa, looking at his expression, as if trying not to miss any details.

He said: "We have to start from the beginning. I was on duty that day, from ten o'clock in the evening to six o'clock in the morning. Except for a fight on Bahote Street at eleven o'clock in the evening, the rest of the area was relatively quiet. One o'clock at night, the world rises." It was raining. I met Harry Moche, who was patrolling Holland Woods, and stood at the corner of Henriette Street and talked for a while. After two o'clock, I thought I should check Brixton again. Road, see if there is anything. It has just rained, and this road is difficult to walk. I found nothing except a carriage or two. I thought to myself: It would be great if I had a jug of hot wine now. Thinking , while walking. Suddenly, I found that there was a light in that house. I was taken aback, and immediately thought that something strange had happened, because I knew that the two houses on Fa Yuen Street were empty, and one of them was empty. The house once had a tenant who died of typhoid fever. Since then, no one has lived in this house. At night, it is dark and gloomy, so I have a deep impression of that house. When I walked to the door... ..."

"You stopped suddenly and came back to the garden gate," put in Holmes. "Why did you do that?"

Lance jumped up, and stared at Sherlock Holmes in astonishment. "My God, it's so true, sir," said he, "that only God knows, and how can you know? You see, when I got to the door, it was so quiet, so lonely, so chilling." , a sense of fear. So I thought it would be best to find someone to go in with. I am not afraid of anything in the world, but I thought at the time that someone who died of typhoid was probably checking the gutter that killed him. When I thought of this, I was so frightened that I turned and walked back to the gate to see if I could see Merchill's lantern, but there was no sign of him...not even a ghost."

"Is there anyone in the street?"

"Not a single one. Not even a dog. I had to come back again, take courage, and open the door. I went into the lighted room. I saw a red candle flickering on the fireplace, and I was caught The scene under the lights was horrific."

"Okay, I know what you saw. After walking around the house a few times, you knelt down next to the corpse, then walked out of the room, opened the kitchen door again, and then..."

Lance's face was full of horror and doubt, he shouted loudly: "How can you see so clearly? Where were you hiding at that time? You seem to know too much!"

Holmes laughed, and threw his card to the bewildered policeman.He said: "Don't take me for a murderer. I'm a hound, not a wolf; Mr. Gregson and Mr. Remired will testify. Go on. What did you do after that?"

Lance still had a puzzled expression on his face: "I walked to the gate and blew the siren. Merchill and two other policemen rushed over immediately."

"Was there no one on the street at the time?"

"Not a single decent person."

"What does it mean?"

The cop grinned.He said: "I've seen a lot of drunks in my life, but I've never seen a guy as drunk as he was. When I came out, he was standing in the doorway, leaning on the railing, singing at the top of his voice. The Columban song or something like that. He can't stand upright, there's nothing he can do about it."

"What does that man look like?" asked Sherlock Holmes.

John Lance seemed displeased with this interruption from Holmes.He said: "It is rare to see a drunk like him. If we hadn't been too busy at the time, we would have taken him to the police station."

"His face, his clothes, don't you notice?" Holmes interrupted impatiently.

"I think I noticed, because Merchill and I set him up. He's tall, very red-faced, with a ring around his..."

"That is enough," cried Holmes. "What became of him?"

The policeman complained, "We had so many things at the time, so we didn't have time to take care of him. I think he knows the way home."

"What clothes is he wearing?"

"A long brown coat."

"Has he got a whip in his hand?"

"No."

"Then he must have put his whip on the wagon," muttered my companion. "Didn't you see or hear a wagon afterward?"

"No."

"Here's the half-pound for you," said my companion, standing up and putting on his hat. "Lance, I'm afraid you will never be promoted as a policeman. Your head should not be just for display, but also useful. All right. You could have mentioned a sheriff last night, because the man you erected last night was the one who did this strange crime, and we're all looking for him. There's no use talking now. Come on, doctor. "

We walked together towards the cab, ignoring the frozen policeman who gave us information.

"What a fool!" said Holmes angrily, as we got into the car. "Think about it, such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he actually let it pass in vain."

"I haven't figured it out yet. The man described by the policeman is indeed very consistent with the second person in the case you imagine, but why did he go back after leaving the house? This does not seem to be the way of criminals."

"Ring, man, that's the ring he came back for. If there's no other way to catch him, we can use the ring as bait and lure him into the bait. I'll catch him, doctor—two to one I dare Bet I'll make a bet with you, I'll catch him. If it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't be there. Thanks to you. If so, wouldn't I miss a rare research opportunity? I see Shall we call this a 'Study in Scarlet'? Why not use a little artistic word? Life is like a colorless ball of thread, murder is the red thread running through it, and it is our duty to untie it, Every inch is exposed. Now we go to lunch and then Norman Neruda. Her fingering and bowing are amazing. What's the name of that Chopin piece she played? Tra— —la-la-lee-la-la-le. It's wonderful!"

Watching the detective sing so happily, I couldn't help thinking how omnipotent the human mind is.

(End of this chapter)