The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 188 New Detective Case (10)
Now I come to the main issues, and I have to interview you for the details.This letter is just an overview, so that you can confirm whether you intend to undertake this matter.Not long ago this lady began to exhibit certain peculiarities which were quite out of proportion to her gentle nature.This gentleman was twice married, and he had a son by a previous wife.This kid is 15 years old. He is a very likable and affectionate kid. Unfortunately, he was traumatized as a child.On two occasions, the stepmother was found beating the poor boy for no reason.He even hit him with a cane once, bruising the boy's arm.

Not counting that, her behavior towards her own youngest son who is less than one year old is even more serious.About a month ago, there was a time when the nanny left the baby for just a few minutes.Suddenly hearing the baby crying, the nanny ran back quickly, and as soon as she entered the room, she saw the hostess bent over as if biting the baby's neck.There was a small wound on the child's neck, and blood was dripping from it.The nurse was terrified, and immediately went to call the master, but the mistress begged her not to go, and gave her five pounds to keep it a secret.The hostess did not give any explanation for the matter, and the matter was put on hold.

But the incident made a dreadful impression on the nurse's mind, and from then on she watched closely the mistress's actions, and gave the baby more attention, for she really loved the child.But she felt that, just as she watched her mother, her mother was watching her too, and whenever she left the baby for a moment, the mother would rush to the baby.The nanny closely guards the baby day and night, and the mother watches the baby silently like a wolf waiting for a sheep day and night.This must seem incredible to you, but I beg you to take my account seriously, as a baby may live or die as it may cause a man to lose his mind.

Finally one day things could not be hidden from her husband.The nanny's nerves were about to collapse, and she confessed everything to the hostess.It was a bolt from the blue for him, just as it feels for you right now.He knew that his wife loved him, and besides beating up his stepson that time, she had always loved her stepson.How could she hurt her own child?So he told the nanny that this was all her hallucination, this kind of paranoia is not good, especially her slander of the hostess cannot be tolerated.While they were talking, there was a sudden cry of a baby.The nurse and the host ran to the nursery together.His wife had just stood up from the cradle, and the baby's neck was bleeding, and the sheets were stained with blood.Imagine his feelings, Mr. Holmes.He cried out in horror as he turned his wife's face to the light and saw blood all around her lips.There is no doubt that she sucked the blood of the poor baby.

This is the reality.She is now locked in the house and sees no one.No explanation was given.The husband is already half insane.He and I know nothing about this kind of thing except that we have only heard the name vampire.We originally thought it was a strange talk from a foreign country, but who knew it was in Sussex, England—that’s all, let’s have an interview with you tomorrow morning.Would you like to receive me?Willing to help a man on the verge of a disorder?If you don't give up, please call Lamberley, Cheeseman Park, Ferguson.I will be at your place at ten o'clock in the morning.

robert ferguson
Add: I remember that your friend Watson was on the Blackheath rugby team, and I was halfback for the Richmond team.Maybe he still remembers me.

"Yes, I remember this man," I said, putting down the letter. "Big Bob Ferguson, he was the best center back on the Richmond team. He was a kind man. Now he is so concerned about his friends." , this man is warm-hearted."

Holmes looked at me thoughtfully, and shook his head.

"I've never been able to read your mind, Watson," said he, "and you've always had ideas that surprise me. Well, please go and send a telegram: 'Willing to take your case' .”

"'Your case'? You mean it happened to him?"

"We must not let him think that this is an unintelligent detective agency. It is his own case, of course. Please send the telegram, and we will find out by tomorrow morning."

At ten o'clock the next morning Ferguson strode into our room punctually.In my memory, he is a slender, flexible limbs, he moves quickly, good at bypassing the interception of the opposing defender.The muscular athlete in his heyday has lost all of his splendor now.His huge body is obviously a little stooped, his shoulders are drooping, and his light yellow hair is also thinning.In a person's life, there is probably nothing more sad than experiencing such a huge contrast.I'm afraid I made the same impression on him.

"Hi, Watson, how do you do?" he said.His voice was still deep and passionate. "I say, you're not quite the same body as when I threw you across the rope into the crowd. I've probably changed a little too. It's only these days that I've grown old. Mr. Holmes, from your I can see from the telegram that I can no longer pretend to be someone else's agent."

"It's better to tell the truth," said Holmes.

"Okay. But think about it, how hard it is to talk about a woman you've been with and it's your duty to protect. What can I do? Shall I go to the police and talk about it? And I have to take care of the safety of the children. Please tell me, Mr. Holmes, is that mental illness? Is it in the blood? Have you ever experienced a similar case? For God's sake, please help me, I'm really at a loss."

"I fully understand your feelings, Mr. Ferguson. Please sit down, calm down, and answer a few questions for me clearly. I can assure you that I am not helpless with your case, and I am confident that I can find the answer. First of all, please You tell me, what steps did you take after it happened, did your wife still have contact with the children?"

"I had a great quarrel with her. Mr. Holmes, she was a most tender and affectionate woman. She really loved me with all her heart. She was terribly saddened to see me discover this terrible, incredible secret. She didn't say a word, didn't answer my reproach at all, just looked at me with heartbroken eyes, then turned and ran back to her room and locked the door. Since then, she never wanted to see me again Me. She has a dowry maid called Dolores, who is more of a friend than a servant. She brings meals to my wife."

"Then the child is not in danger at present?"

"Mrs. Mason, the nurse, swore she would never leave the baby day and night. I'm much more worried about poor little Jack, because he was twice beaten, as I told you."

"Are you injured?"

"Not really. But she hit pretty hard. Especially, he's a poor lame kid." Ferguson's face softened when he said of his son, "Who's the kid's flaws?" His heart will soften after seeing it. He broke his spine when he was a child, but his heart is the cutest and the most loving."

At this time Holmes picked up yesterday's letter from the table and read it over and over again, "Mr. Ferguson, who else is in your house?"

"Two new servants. There's a groom named Michael, who also lives in the house. And then there's my wife, myself, my son Jack, the baby, Dolores, Mrs. Mason. That's all."

"I suppose you didn't know your wife very well when you got married?"

"I'd only known her for a few weeks then."

"How long has the maid Dolores been with her?"

"Some years."

"Then she should know your wife's character better than you?"

"Yes, so to speak."

Holmes took notes carefully.

"I think," said he, "that it would be better for us to go to Lamberley than to stay here. This case needs to be investigated in person. Since the mistress does not leave the bedroom, we will not disturb her at the estate. Of course we are Live in a hotel."

Ferguson looked relieved.

"Mr. Holmes, that is exactly what I had hoped. If you can come, there will be a comfortable train from Victoria Station at exactly two o'clock in the afternoon."

"Of course we will. I just have time at present to devote myself to your case. Of course Watson will go with us. There are, however, one or two points which I must be quite certain of before we go. As I understand it, The unfortunate mistress appears to have resorted to violence against both children, your eldest son and her own baby, did she not?"

"correct."

"But the way the force is used is different, isn't it? She beats your older son."

"Once with a cane, and another time with the hands."

"Did she never explain why she hit him?"

"No, just hate him. She said that over and over again."

"There are a lot of stepmothers like that. Jealousy of the children left by her ex-wives, perhaps out of jealousy of the deceased, and transferring this jealousy to the children. Is she a jealous person?"

"I think so. She has a tropical air about her. It should be a strong jealousy."

"Your son - he's 15 years old, and since his physical activity is restricted by health, presumably his mental development was earlier. Didn't he explain to you why he was beaten?"

"No, he insisted it was for no reason."

"Did he have a good relationship with his stepmother before?"

"There was never a loving relationship between them."

"But you said he was a child who would hurt."

"There will never be a son as faithful as he in the world. I am his life. He cares about my every word and deed."

Holmes wrote it down again, and fell into deep thought for a moment.

"Before you remarried, you and your son must have had a deep affection. You used to be together a lot, didn't you?"

"Get along day and night."

"Since this child is very emotional, then he must also be full of affection and miss his late mother?"

"Yes, I don't think anyone can replace her in his heart."

"Looks like he must have been an interesting kid. And one more question about the beating. Did the beating of your son and the mysterious attack on the baby happen at the same time?"

"The first time it was like that. It was like she was possessed by something and both kids took it out on it. The second time it was just Jack getting spanked and the nanny didn't say what happened to the baby."

"It's a bit complicated."

"I do not quite understand you, Mr. Holmes."

"Possibly. I have made hypotheses, and it will be time or new data to disprove them. It is a bad habit, Mr. Ferguson, but human beings have weaknesses. I am afraid your old friend Watson will take my The scientific method is a little exaggerated. At any rate, all I can tell you at this point is that I don't think your case is intractable, and that we will be at Victoria Station on time at two o'clock this afternoon."

It was a November evening, overcast and foggy.We left our luggage at the Checkers Hotel in Lamberley, and drove across a winding and muddy Sussex road to the remote and old manor in Ferguson. It was a huge continuous building with a central part Very old, but the wings are quite new, with their high Tudor chimneys and mossy high-slope Horsham slates.The doorsteps have been dented, and the ancient tiles of the porch walls are carved with circular images of the original owner.The ceiling was supported by heavy oak columns, and the uneven floor showed deep grooves.The crumbling house exudes the smell of old decay.

Ferguson ushered us into a large central hall.There is a large, old-fashioned iron-covered fireplace with the year 1670 engraved on it, and a roaring wall fire of fine wood burning inside.

I looked around and saw that the house was a hodgepodge of eras and places.The half-panelled wall was probably made by the original farmer in the seventeenth century.A row of aesthetically interesting modern watercolors hangs on the lower half of the wall.But the upper part is hung with a row of South American utensils and weapons, apparently brought by the Peruvian lady upstairs.Holmes arose, and studied these things with all his penetrating and keen curiosity.After looking at it, he sat down again with eyes full of thought. "Hey!" he exclaimed suddenly, "Look!"

Following his gaze, I saw a poodle that was lying in a basket in the corner of the room, and now it was slowly crawling towards its owner, with great difficulty.Its hind legs dragged and its tail dragged on the ground.It goes to lick the master's hand.

"What is it, Mr. Holmes?"

"The dog. What's wrong with it?"

"The veterinarian couldn't tell what it was either. He said it was a paralysis, maybe meningitis. But it's getting better, and it will be soon, isn't it, my Carlo?"

The puppy gave a slight twitch of its tail as if in approval.Its mournful eyes looked from one to the other.It knows very well that we are talking about its disease.

"Did it happen suddenly?"

"Overnight."

"how long ago?"

"Probably four months."

"Weird. But inspiring to me."

"Do you think the disease speaks for anything, Mr. Holmes?"

"It confirmed one of my assumptions."

"What hypothesis? What have you proved? It may be a guessing game for you, but it is a matter of life and death for me! My wife may be a murderer, and my son is in danger at every moment! Don't joke with me, Mr. Holmes. It's all horrific."

The big central defender trembled all over.Holmes put his hand on his arm and said comfortingly: "Whatever the conclusion may be, I am afraid that you will suffer. I will try my best to alleviate your pain. I can't say anything at present, but I may before I leave your house." Give you a clear answer."

"I hope so! If you will excuse me, I will go upstairs and see if my wife's condition has changed."

He was away for a few minutes, and Holmes again studied the objects hanging on the wall.The master came back, and judging by the gloomy expression on his face, no progress had been made.He brought a tall maid with a yellowish complexion.

"Dolores, the tea is ready," said Ferguson, "please take good care of the mistress."

"She's very sick," cried the maid, with her eyes glaring at her master. "She won't eat. She's very sick. She needs to see a doctor. I'm afraid to be alone with her without a doctor."

Ferguson looked at me questioningly.

"If necessary, I will do my best."

"Would your mistress wish to see Dr. Watson?"

"I'll take him. I don't want permission. She needs a doctor."

"Then I'll go with you right away."

The maid trembled slightly with excitement, and I followed her up the stairs and into an ancient corridor.At the end there is a very thick iron frame door.I looked at the door and thought it would be hard for Ferguson to break into his wife's room.The maid took the key from her pocket, and the heavy oak door creaked open on its hinges.I walked in and she immediately followed and locked the door behind her.

On the bed lay a woman, apparently suffering from a high fever.She was half conscious, but as soon as I came in, she immediately raised her frightened and soft eyes and stared at me in fear.Seeing that she was a stranger, she breathed a sigh of relief.I went up to comfort her, and she lay there quietly for me to take her pulse and temperature.The pulse was rapid and the temperature was high, but the clinical diagnosis was neurological rather than infectious fever.

"She lies like this for a day or two. I'm afraid she will die," said the maid.

The hostess turned her red, handsome face towards me.

"Where is my husband?"

"Downstairs, he wants to see you."

"I don't want to see him, I don't want to see him." Later, she seemed to lose her mind, and her mouth was full of delirium, "Vicious, vicious! What should I do with this demon?"

"can I help you?"

"No, others can't help it. It's over, it's all over. No matter what I do, it's all over." The hostess must be talking nonsense.I really don't see how honest Ferguson could be a malevolent or diabolical character.

"Mrs. Ferguson," I said, "your husband loves you dearly. He is very distressed about this."

She turned her beautiful eyes towards me again.

"He loves me, yes. But don't I love him? Don't I love him to the point where I'd rather sacrifice myself than break his heart? That's how I love him. And he does." Miss me—say me like that."

"He's in a lot of pain, but he doesn't understand."

"He can't understand. But he should trust."

"Would you rather not see him?"

"No, no, I can't forget what he said, or the look on his face. I don't want to see him. Please go. You can't help me. Tell him a word, I want mine Children. I have a right to my own children. That's the only thing I'll say to him." She turned her face to the wall again, refusing to speak any more.

When I went downstairs, Ferguson and Holmes were still sitting by the fire.Ferguson listened gloomily to my account of the interview.

"How can I hand the baby over to her?" he said. "How can I know if she will behave strangely again? How can I forget that time when she stood up from the baby with the baby on her lips." What about the blood?" He shivered, "The baby is safe with the nanny, he must stay with the nanny."

Tea was brought in by a handsome maid, the only fashionable person in the estate.While she was opening the door, a boy entered the room.He was a striking boy, fair-complexioned, fair-haired, with excitable pale blue eyes that shone with unexpected excitement and delight at the sight of his father.He rushed over and put his arms around his neck and hugged his father like a passionate girl.

"Daddy," he cried, "I didn't know you were back, or I would have been here waiting for you. I miss you so much!"

Ferguson pulled his son's hand away somewhat embarrassedly.

"Good boy," he said, stroking his son's fair hair, "I came back early because my friends, Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson, were willing to spend the evening with me."

"Is that Mr. Detective Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yes."

The kid looked at us with a perceptive, but in my opinion unfriendly look.

"Mr. Ferguson, where is your youngest son?" said Holmes. "Can we see him?"

(End of this chapter)