The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 201 New Detective Case (23)
We heard hurried footsteps above.It was the firm, hasty footsteps of a man who had come with purpose and who knew where he was walking.Then a ray of light came down from the stairs, and the lamp-bearer appeared in the Gothic archway.He was a monstrous figure of tall stature and violent manner.Carrying a large lantern in his hand, the light of which set off his bushy face and furious eyes, he scanned the crypt, and finally fixed my companion and me with a vicious stare.

"Who are you?" he shouted. "What are you doing here on my estate?" Seeing that Holmes was silent, he took two steps forward and raised a heavy walking stick which he carried with him. "Hear that?" he cried. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" He waved his cane.

Far from flinching, Holmes went forward.

"Sir Robert, I have a question for you too," he said very severely. "Who is this? What's going on here?"

He turned around and lifted the coffin lid behind him.By the light of the lantern, I saw a corpse wrapped from head to toe in cloth.It was a hideous corpse of a woman, with a protruding nose and chin turned sideways, bloodless, and a pair of dim, glassy eyes in a distorted face.

With a cry the baron staggered back, leaning against a stone coffin.

"How do you know?" he cried, returning to his ferocious self a little in an instant. "What do you do?"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes," said my companion. "Perhaps you are familiar with it? After all, I have the same duty as any other upright citizen to uphold the law. I think there are many things you must explain. "

Sir Robert gazed at us hostilely for a moment, but Holmes's calm voice and his calm, self-assured manner had their effect.

"I can swear to God, Mr. Holmes, that I have done nothing wrong," said he. "I admit that the matter does appear to be against me, but I did it out of necessity."

"I hope that's the case, but I'm afraid you'll have to go to the police and explain."

Sir Robert shrugged his broad shoulders.

"Well, if that's the case, then so be it. You can go to the manor and see for yourself what's going on."

Fifteen minutes later we came to a room which, as evidenced by rows of polished gun barrels behind glass covers, was a weapons showroom in the old mansion.The room was comfortably furnished, and he asked us to sit and wait a while.He came back with two people, the ruddy young woman we had seen sitting in the carriage, and a little mouse-faced man with a furtive and obnoxious manner.The surprise on the faces of the two men showed that the baron had not had time to tell them what had happened.

"They," Sir Robert pointed, "are Mr. and Mrs. Nolet. Mrs. Nolette, née Evans, was my sister's confidant for many years. I brought them here because I thought the best The way is to tell you the real situation, they are the only two people in the world who can testify for me."

"Sir Robert, is this necessary? Have you thought about what you are doing?" cried the woman.

"As for me, I refuse to take any responsibility," her husband said.

Sir Robert shot him a contemptuous glance. "I take full responsibility," said he. "Mr. Holmes, please listen to the brief history of the facts. You obviously already know a good deal about my affairs, or I would not have met you there. So you may have You know, I bred a dark horse for the race meeting, and everything depends on whether I win. If I win, then all the best. If I lose—oh, I can't imagine."

"I understand your position," said Holmes.

"I depend for everything on my sister, Mrs. Beatrice, but her estate income is known to be barely sufficient for her own living. I know that if my sister dies, my creditors will flock to my estate like a flock of vultures. On the estate, take everything, my stables, my horses, and all. My sister died just a week ago, Mr. Holmes."

"And you didn't tell anyone!"

"What can I do? I'm facing total bankruptcy. If I can keep it under wraps for three weeks, everything will be fine. Her maid's husband--that's the man--is an actor. So we thought, No, it occurred to me that during that brief period he could disguise himself as my sister. There was no need to do anything but show up every day in a carriage, since no one but her maid would come into her room .It was not difficult to deal with. My sister died of the edema that had plagued her for a long time."

"After she dies, it's up to the coroner to determine."

"Her doctors can confirm that her symptoms foreshadowed this end several months ago."

"So what did you do?"

"The body can't stay here. Nolet and I took her to the old warehouse the first night after she died, and that warehouse has long since been unused. But her puppy followed us, and kept on at the door." The ground was barking, so I wanted to find a safer place. I sent the dog away, and we moved the body to the church crypt. I mean no insult or disrespect, Mr. Holmes. I am convinced that nothing has been done Sorry about the deceased."

"I think your actions are inexcusable, Sir Robert."

The Baron shook his head impatiently. "Easy to say," he said, "if you were in my place, you might not think so. A man cannot see all his hopes, all his plans, destroyed at the last moment without trying to Salvation. I do not think it wrong to place her temporarily as a resting place in the coffin of her husband's ancestors, and the place where the coffin rests is still a sacred place. We opened one of these coffins and removed the inside the bones of the crypt, and set her as you see. As for the remains removed from inside, we could not leave them on the floor of the crypt. So Nolet and I removed them, and he went down into the boiler room at night Burn them. This is my account, Mr. Holmes, and though I am compelled to tell it, I do not know how you forced me to tell it."

Holmes was lost in thought.

"There is a slight flaw in your narrative, Sir Robert," he said at last. "Since you are betting on the horse race, it will not affect your future if your creditors take your property."

"The horse is also part of the property. Do they care about my horse? They may not let it run at all. It is very unfortunate that my main creditor and enemy Sam Brewer is a shameless I had to whip him once at Newmarket. Do you think he'll save me?"

"Well, Sir Robert," said Holmes, rising, "the matter must be left to the police. My duty is to discover the facts, and I have done so. As to your conduct being a matter of morality or dignity, I have no right to comment. It is nearly midnight, Watson, and we must return to our humble lodgings."

It is now known that the case ended much better than Sir Robert's conduct had deserved.The Prince of Shoscombe won the race, netting the owner £[-], and the creditors did not demand payment until the race was over.Sir Robert, having paid off his debts, had enough money to rebuild a comfortable life.Both the police and the coroner took a lenient attitude towards this matter. Apart from the mild censure for the delay in the registration of the death, the lucky owner of the horse got away cleanly with this speculative business, and now the matter has been forgotten, and his old age will be spent with dignity.

The Painter's Secret
That morning Holmes sat pensive on the sofa with a sad and serious expression.If he was thinking about a case, this mood would interfere with his astute detection.

"Did you see him?" he asked.

"You mean the old man who just left?"

"Yes."

"I met him at the door."

"What do you think of him?"

"A poor, useless, down-and-out fellow."

"Exactly, Watson. Poor and ineffective. But isn't the whole of human life pitiful and ineffective? Isn't his story a microcosm of the whole human race? We pursue, we want to catch. But in the end we are left with What? A phantom, or worse than phantom pain."

"Is he one of your clients?"

"Yeah, that's what I think he should be called. He was sent by the police. It's like doctors turning over patients they can't treat to quacks. They say there's nothing they can do, and whatever happens to the patient's condition is impossible." Worse than the status quo.”

"what happened?"

Holmes picked up a greasy business card from the table, "Josiah Amberley. He said he was a shareholder in Brickfall and Amberley, they were paint dealers, and on the oil box you can see To their names. He saved a little money, retired at 61, bought a house in Lewisham, and rested after a busy life. People thought his future was secure."

"That's true."

Holmes glanced at the notes he had scribbled on the back of the envelope.

"He retired, Watson, in 20. In [-], he married a woman twenty years younger than himself, and if the pictures are not exaggerated, she was a beautiful woman. Living well, and Wife, and leisure--seems like a smooth avenue before him. But as you can see, in two years he's been the most down-and-out, miserable fellow in the world."

"what is the problem?"

"Still the same thing, Watson. A treacherous friend and a free-spirited woman. Amberley seems to have had a hobby, and that is chess. Not far from him in Lewisham lives a young doctor, who is also a good A chess player. I remember his name was Ray Ernest. He was a frequent visitor to the Amberleys, and he and Mrs. Amberley became very close, for our unfortunate The client was not outwardly attractive, whatever his inner virtues. Last week the couple eloped - disappeared. What's more, the cheating wife took the old man's file box as her personal property Taken, too, with most of his life savings in it. Can we find the lady? Can we get the money back? It's a common question so far, but it's a matter of extreme importance to Amberley. "

"What are you going to do?"

"My dear Watson, it depends on what you are going to do--if you understand me. You know that I am already engaged in the case of the two bishops of Kochi. Today will be the most critical moment in the case. Not to go to Lewisham. The old man asked me to go, and I explained my difficulty, and he agreed to send me a representative."

"Well," I replied, "I admit I'm not confident I'll be up to the job, but I'm going to do my best." So I set off for Lewisham one summer afternoon, not having the slightest idea that I was taking part in His case would be the subject of lively national discussion within a week.

It was late that night when I returned to Baker Street to report.Holmes' thin body was sunken deep in the sofa, with a pipe in his hand, and the room was filled with smoke.He was sleepy-eyed, and I would have thought him asleep if he hadn't half-opened those gray, bright, piercing eyes that gazed at me exploratoryly when I paused in my narration or had questions.

"Mr. Josiah Amberley's apartment is called The Haven," I explained. "I think it will interest you, Holmes. It is like a fallen nobleman relegated to the lower classes. You know that kind of place, Drab brick roads and tiresome suburban roads. Right in the midst of them was an island of ancient culture and comfort, which was his home. Surrounded by high, sun-hardened, mossy walls, this Plant a wall--"

"Don't be so poetic, Watson," said Holmes gravely. "It seems to me that it is a high brick wall."

"Yes. I wouldn't have found it if I hadn't asked an idler smoking a cigarette in the street. I should have mentioned this idler. He was a tall, dark, bearded, military-looking man. He told me He nodded inquiringly, and gave me a strange look, which reminded me of his look afterwards.

"I saw Mr. Amberley come down the drive before I was in the door. I had only had a quick glance at him this morning, and I thought he was a queer man, and now in the daylight he looked even more queer."

"I have studied it, but I would like to hear your impression," said Holmes.

"He was very stooped, and really seemed to be weighed down by the weight of life. He was not so frail as I had imagined at first, for although his legs were slender, he had a great frame of shoulders and chest. "

"The shoe on the left foot is wrinkled, while the right foot is straight."

"I didn't pay attention to that."

"You won't notice. I realize he's got a prosthetic leg. But go on."

"His gray hair showing from under his old straw hat. I was impressed by the cruel expression and deeply lined face."

"Excellent, Watson. What did he say?"

"As soon as he saw me, he babbled about his misfortune. He led me into the yard, and I looked around carefully. Don't think the house looks okay from the outside, but the yard is overgrown with weeds, and it seems that it has never been Not in good repair. I have never seen such a deserted place, and I wonder how a respectable woman could bear it. The house is equally dilapidated, and the unfortunate man seemed to feel it himself, He's trying to fix it, and there's a bucket of green paint in the middle of the hall, and he's holding a big brush in his left hand, and he's painting the woodwork in the interior.

"He led me into his dark study, and we had a long talk. You yourself did not come to disappoint him. 'I dare not hope,' said he, 'for a man as humble as I am, especially when I am To win the attention of such an eminent figure as Mr. Holmes after a disastrous financial loss.'

"I told him it had nothing to do with economics. 'Of course, it was art for art's sake to him,' he said, 'but even from the point of view of criminal art, here is something worth studying. Dr. Watson, Ingratitude is the worst thing in human nature! Have I ever refused a single request from her? Is there any woman more pampered? And that young man--I regard him as my own son .He can come and go from my house as he pleases. See how they have betrayed me now! Oh, Dr. Watson, it is a dreadful, dreadful world!'

"That was the subject of his conversation for more than an hour. He never seemed to suspect an affair. They lived alone, save for a maid who came in every day and left at six o'clock in the evening. On the night of the accident, Mr. In order to make his wife happy, Amberley specially reserved two seats on the second floor of the Glass Theater. Before leaving, his wife said she had a headache and refused to go, so he had to go alone. This seems to be true, and he also took Show me the unused ticket I bought for my wife."

"It is noteworthy—very important," said Holmes, with words that seemed to interest Holmes in the case. "Go on, Watson. Your account is fascinating. Have you examined the ticket yourself?" ?Maybe you didn't remember the number?"

"I just remembered it," I replied a little proudly. "No. 31 happened to be the same as my student number when I was in school, so I remembered it firmly."

"Excellent, Watson! So his own seat is either thirty or thirty-two?"

"Yes," I replied, a little bewildered, "and the second row."

"Very satisfying. What else did he say?"

"He showed me the room he called the vault, which was a veritable vault, with iron doors and windows like a bank, and he said it was there to guard against theft. Yet this woman seemed to have a duplicate key, and they Together they took seven thousand pounds worth of cash and bonds."

"Bonds! What's he going to do with it?"

"He said he had handed over to the police a list in the hope of making the bonds unsalable. He returned home from the theater at midnight to find the burglars, the doors and windows open and the convicts gone. No letter or message was left, and he has since He didn't hear anything from him either. He called the police right away."

Holmes pondered for some minutes.

"You said he was painting. What was he painting?"

"He's painting the hallway. The door and wood work of the house I'm referring to has already been painted."

"Don't you think it's a little strange to do the job at a time like this?"

"'One has to do something to avoid the pain of one's heart.' He explained it himself. Of course it was a bit of an anomaly, but it was obvious that he was an anomaly. He tore up a picture of his wife in front of me. The picture - torn in a fit of rage. 'I don't want to see her hideous face again,' he screamed."

"Anything else, Watson?"

"Yes, there is one other incident which made the deepest impression on me. I drove to Blyheath Station and caught the train, when, just as it was moving away, I saw a man rush into the carriage next to mine. Holmes, You know my ability to recognize faces. He was the tall, dark man who spoke to me in the street. I saw him again at London Bridge, and then he disappeared into the crowd. But I'm sure he was Follow me."

"That's right! That's right!" said Holmes. "A tall, dark, bearded man. Do you think he's wearing gray dark glasses?"

"Holmes, you are wonderful. I didn't say it, but he did wear a pair of gray dark glasses."

"He's still wearing a Masonic tie pin?"

"You are very good, Holmes!"

(End of this chapter)