The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 200 New Detective Case (22)
"The housekeeper saw him go out in the rain at twelve o'clock at night. So I came to the house the next night, and I saw him go out again. Stephens and I followed him, which was very frightening. If he saw it, it would be terrible." That's enough for us. If anyone disturbs him, his fists are not forgiving. So we didn't dare to follow too closely, but we kept an eye on him. He went to the haunted crypt, and there were still people there. Wait for him."

"What is this crypt?"

"Sir, in the garden there is a ruined church, so ancient that no one knows its age. Under it is a crypt, which is famous in the country as a haunted place. It is dark and damp during the day, and it is desolate and terrible. Not to mention the night. But our master isn't afraid. He doesn't seem to have been afraid of anything in his life. But what does he do there at night?"

"Wait a moment!" said Holmes. "You say there is another man there. He must be your groom, or someone in the family! You must have recognized him. Have you asked him?"

"Not someone I know."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I saw him, Mr. Holmes. It was on the second night. Sir Robert rounded the corner and passed us, while Stephens and I were shivering like frightened rabbits in the bushes, because There was a bit of moonlight at night. But we heard another person walking behind. We were not afraid of him. So we straightened up when Mr. Robert passed, and pretended to be walking in the moonlight, and rushed straight to him. "Hello , man!Who are you? "I said. He probably didn't hear our approaching footsteps, so when he turned around and saw us, it was like seeing a ghost from hell. He yelled and ran away. He ran It was really fast, he disappeared within 1 minute, as for who he is and what he does, we don't know."

"Did you see him clearly in the moonlight?"

"Yes, I see it clearly. It's a thin, sallow, inferior man. What can such a man have to do with Sir Robert? They belong to two worlds."

Holmes sat for some time thoughtful.

"Who is usually with Mrs. Beatrice Fold?" he asked at last.

"Her maid Carrie Evans. She's been with Mrs. for five years."

"You must be very loyal to your wife, right?"

Mr. Mason grew uneasy.

"She's faithful enough," he said at last, "but it's hard to tell whom she's loyal to."

"Huh?" said Holmes.

"Forgive me for not revealing the privacy of others."

"I quite understand, Mr. Masson. Of course the situation is already clear. From Dr. Watson's description of Sir Robert, I already know that he is a danger to any woman. You don't think that this could be the result of their brother and sister's quarrel." Is there a reason?"

"This rumor has long been known to everyone."

"She may not have seen it in the past. Let's assume that she was very annoyed when she suddenly found out about the improper relationship between the two. He gave the other party's beloved puppy as a punching bag, and the other had a heart attack and couldn't move around, so he hid in the room all day long and drank his sorrows. If you analyze it this way, it seems that everything can be linked together. Got up and got a good explanation."

"Yes, it can still be strung up so far."

"Exactly! That's it. But what does all this have to do with going to the crypt at night? We can't explain it."

"Indeed, sir, and there are other things which I cannot explain. Why should Sir Robert go to exhume a dead body?"

Holmes rose abruptly.

"We only discovered this yesterday--after I wrote to you. Sir Robert was in London yesterday, so Stephens and I went down to the crypt. Everything else was the same, except that in one corner there was a little heap of human bones. .”

"Have you reported it to the police?"

Our visitor sneered.

"They won't be interested, sir. All that's been found is a mummified head and a few bones. It's probably a thousand years old. But it wasn't there, I can swear it, and so can Stephens. It was piled and boarded up in a corner where there was nothing before."

"How did you deal with it afterwards?"

"We left it alone."

"It is advisable to do so. You say Sir Robert left yesterday. Did he come back?"

"Should be back today."

"When did Sir Robert give away his sister's dog?"

"Today last week. The dog was howling outside the old warehouse, and Sir Robert seemed to be in a bad mood that morning, and was having a fit of temper. He caught the dog, and I thought he was going to kill him. But he gave the dog Gave it to Sandy Bain the jockey, and told him to take it to old Barnes at the Dragon Inn, saying he didn't want to see the dog again."

Holmes sat lost in thought.He lit his oldest and most oily pipe.

"I don't know what you want me to do about it, Mr. Masson," he said at last. "Could you be more specific?"

"This may explain the problem, Mr. Holmes." The guest took out a paper package from his pocket and opened it carefully, revealing a charred broken bone.

Holmes examined it with interest.

"Where did you get it?"

"In the basement under Mrs. Beatrice's room there is a heating boiler which has not been used for a long time, and Sir Robert complained of the cold and turned it on again. One of my fellows, Harvey, was in charge of the boiler. He came to me this morning with this, he found the bones when he was digging out the ashes of the boiler. He was very puzzled that there were bones in the furnace."

"Inexplicable indeed," said Holmes. "Do you recognize what it is, Watson?"

The bone had been charred black, but its anatomy could still be discerned.

"It's the epicondyle of the human thigh," I replied.

"That's right!" said Holmes, becoming very serious. "When is the fellow going to light the stove?"

"He fires up the boiler every night and leaves."

"So anyone can go at night?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can I get in from the outside?"

"There is only one door on the outside, and another door on the inside, and the inside door leads down the stairs to the passage of Mrs. Beatrice's room."

"It's not an easy case, Mr. Masson, and it smells of blood. You mean Sir Robert was not at home last night?"

"Not here, sir."

"Then it wasn't him who burned the bones, but someone else?"

"Exactly, sir."

"What's the name of the inn you just mentioned?"

"Blue Dragon Hotel."

"Is there a good fishing spot near the inn?" asked Holmes.

The honest horse trainer looked bewildered, as if he were sure he had encountered another madman in his troubled life.

"Well, I've heard there's trout in the gullies and pike in Lake Hall."

"That's very good. Watson and I are famous fishermen, aren't we, Watson? You have a letter to take to the Dragon Hotel. We'll go there tonight. You don't want to look for us there. Let's write a note, and I can find you if necessary. After we have a certain understanding of the matter, I will tell you a mature opinion."

So, on a clear May night, Holmes and I sat alone in the first-class carriage, and drove to Shoscombe, a small station called "Hello Stop".The luggage rack above our seats was full of fishing rods, lines, baskets and the like.After arriving at the destination, I took a carriage to an old-style inn, where I had a lively discussion with the active owner Josiah Barnes about the plan to fish nearby.

"Well, is there any hope of pike fishing at Lake Hall?" said Holmes.

The shopkeeper's face fell.

"Don't think about it, sir. You're in the water before you catch a fish."

"what happened?"

"That's because of Sir Robert, sir. He has a particular dislike for his trout to be touched. If you two strangers come near his training ground, he will never let you go. Sir Robert has no tolerance for people." people!"

"I heard he had a horse for a race, didn't he?"

"Yes, and a very fine horse. We've all bet our money on it, and all Mr. Robert's money. By the way," he looked at us dreamily, "you're not Horse detective?"

"Where the hell! We're just two weary Cockneys yearning for the fresh Berkshire air."

"Then you've found a place. There's plenty of fresh air here. But remember what I said about Sir Robert. He's the kind of man who doesn't show mercy. Stay out of the park."

"No problem, Mr. Barnes! We're at your mercy. Look, that dog barking in the hall is a very handsome dog."

"Exactly. That's a real Shawscombe breed. There's nothing more beautiful in all England."

"I am also a fan of dogs," said Holmes. "I wonder if it is proper to ask how much this dog is worth?"

"I can't afford it, sir. Sir Robert himself gave me the dog, so I kept him on a leash. If I let him go, he'd be off to the cottage in a blink of an eye."

"We have some cards now, Watson," said Holmes, after the shopkeeper had left. "It's a difficult card to play, but we shall find out in a day or two. Sir Robert is still in London, I hear. Perhaps Let's go to that forbidden place tonight without fear of being beaten. There are two things I need to prove."

"What anomalies do you find, Holmes?"

"Only one thing, Watson. Something must have happened in the Shoscombe family more than a week ago, which has set in motion a series of changes. But what? We cannot at present be sure, but I think." As long as this point is clarified, all problems can be solved. I am confident in solving this problem. Only those ordinary cases are helpless.

"Let us see what we have already grasped: the brother no longer visits his dear infirm sister; he has given away her pet dog. Give away her dog, Watson! Can't you see the problem? "

"I only see my brother's ruthlessness."

"Perhaps so. Or--well, here's another possibility. Let's go on and see what has happened since the quarrel, if there was one. Madame shut up and changed her habits." , didn't show up except for rides with the maid, stopped at the stables to watch her pet horses, and started drinking heavily. That's all it is, isn't it?"

"And about the crypt."

"That's another line of thought. It's two different things, and I beg you not to confuse them. The first thread is about Mrs. Beatrice. Isn't it a bit criminal?"

"I can't see it."

"Now let us turn to the second clue, which concerns Sir Robert. He is obsessed with winning the races. He has fallen into the hands of usurers, and at any moment he may be ruined and the estate auctioned off. , then his race-horses would fall into the hands of his creditors. He's a daring man, and he might jump the wall at the present time. His income depends entirely on his sister, and his sister's maid is his faithful servant. We have these points Got it right?"

"But the crypt?"

"Ah, yes, and the Crypt! Watson, let us make a bold guess, which is not entirely unfounded, and that is that Sir Robert killed his sister."

"Man, that's impossible."

"Very likely, Watson. Sir Robert is of noble birth, though there are occasional crows among the hawks. Let us examine the matter first. He will never leave this place unless he has made a fortune, and the fortune will be entirely lost." Relying on Prince Shoscombe to win the race. He still has to stay here, so he has to dispose of the victim's body, and find a substitute who can imitate his sister. Since the maid is his confidant, it is not impossible to do so. This female body may have been transported to a crypt where few people go, or it may have been secretly destroyed in the furnace late at night, but I do not think that there is still evidence. I What do you think of this conjecture, Watson?"

"How is it impossible, on the premise of that dreadful assumption?"

"To-morrow, Watson, I think we may do a little experiment in order to ascertain the facts. As for today, in order to preserve our identities, I propose to entertain the master with his wine, and to talk to him about eels and carp, which may be Best way to cheer him up. We might pick up some useful local gossip between conversations."

Next morning we went out to carry out our plan.I would have liked to enjoy some fishing too, but Holmes found that we had forgotten our trout baits, and this saved us from fishing.About eleven o'clock we went out for a walk, yesterday's long intimate conversation with the boss paid off, and he was allowed to take the little black dog with us.

"Here it is," said Holmes, when we came to the high gate of the park with the eagle-headed coat of arms. "Mr. Barnes told me that the old lady was going out for a drive at noon. At the gate of the park, the carriage will slow down when the gate is opened. Watson, when the carriage has just entered the gate and is not driving up, please stop the coachman and find an excuse to talk to the coachman for a while. Leave me alone, I will stand Watch from behind this holly bush."

The waiting time is not long. Fifteen minutes later we saw coming down the road a yellow coach driven by two handsome, swift gray horses.Holmes crouched behind a bush with the dog, while I stood in the middle of the road, waving a cane, as if nothing had happened.A porter ran out and opened the gate.

The carriage slowed down so I could watch the riders carefully.On the left sat a ruddy young woman with flaxen hair and shy eyes.To her right sat an elderly, round-backed figure, with a large shawl round her face and shoulders, which indicated her infirmity.I solemnly held up my hand as the carriage drove up the road, and the coachman reined in the horse, and I went forward to inquire if Sir Robert was at the cottage.

At this moment Holmes came out of the bush and let go of the dog.The dog gave a jubilant bark, rushed to the carriage, and jumped onto the running board.But in a blink of an eye, its eager welcome turned into fury, barking and biting at the people in the car, and its barking was full of hostility.

"Go! Go!" cried a man in a rough voice, and the coachman whipped his horse and drove off, leaving us standing on the road.

"It has been established, Watson," said Holmes, as he put the leash around the excited dog's neck. "The dog thought she was the mistress, and found her a stranger. A dog cannot be mistaken."

"That's a man's voice!" I exclaimed.

"Exactly! We have one more card, Watson, but we must play it seriously."

Our plan went so well, and our spirits were so good, that we actually fished in the ditch with the tackle we had brought, and ended up adding a dish of trout to our supper.It was not until after dinner that Holmes seemed to regain his vigor.Once again we came to the road leading to the park gate as in the morning.A tall, dark man was waiting for us.He was our old acquaintance in London, Mr. John Mason, the horse trainer.

"Good evening, gentlemen," said he. "I have a note from you, Mr. Holmes. Sir Robert is not at present. But I hear he will be back to-night."

"How far is the crypt from here?" asked Holmes.

"Quite a quarter of a mile."

"Then we can leave Robert alone."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes. I cannot go with you. He will call me as soon as he gets home to ask how Prince Shoscombe is doing."

"Understood! Then we'll have to work on our own, Mr. Mason. You can take us down to the crypt."

That night, there was no moonlight, and the sky was pitch black. Mason led us through the pasture, and then a dark shadow appeared in front of us. When we got closer, it turned out to be an old church.We entered through the gap in the old porch, and our guide staggered through a pile of rubble to the corner of the church where a steep staircase led down into the crypt.He lit a match to light up the eerie crypt, surrounded by ruins of old rough-hewn stone walls, and musty-smelling coffins, some of lead, some of stone. Massive, stacked high against one wall, up to the arch and the roof hidden in the shadow above.Holmes lit his lantern, and a quivering yellow light illuminated the gloomy place.The bronze plaques on the coffins reflected the light, and most of the plaques were adorned with the eagle-headed crest of the ancient family, which remained dignified even at death's door.

"Where are the bones you found, Mr. Masson. Can you show us before we go?"

"It's in this corner." The horse trainer walked over, but when we looked at it with a lantern, he was stunned. "No more," he said.

"I expected that," said Holmes, laughing softly. "I think that ashes and unburned bones are to be found in the furnace even now."

"I don't understand. Why would anyone want to burn a thousand-year-old skeleton?" John Mason asked.

"We have come here to find out," said Holmes. "It may take a long time, and we will not detain you. I think we shall find out before morning."

After John Mason had left, Holmes began to examine the tombstones carefully, and we proceeded in sequence from the central one, which seemed to belong to the Saxon period, to the Norman period.More than an hour later, Holmes came to a leaden coffin beside the vaulted entrance.I heard his cry of satisfaction, and I could tell by his quick and precise movements that he had found his target.He eagerly examined the rim of the thick, heavy lid with a magnifying glass.Then he took a box-opening crowbar from his pocket, stuffed it into the crack of the lid, and lifted the lid, which seemed to be held in place by only two clips.There was a harsh sound when the coffin lid was pried open, and just before it was fully pried off and only part of it was exposed, an unexpected event interrupted us.

(End of this chapter)