The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 23 Four Signatures (7)
We followed Toby to the road leading to downtown London. There are half-cottage villas on both sides, which are already close to the densely populated streets.Laborers and longshoremen are getting up, and housewives are opening doors and sweeping doorsteps.From the square-roofed tavern on the corner, which had just opened, stout men came out, wiping the beer off their beards with their sleeves.The wild dogs looked at us with wide eyes on the street, but our loyal Toby didn't look left or right. He kept moving forward with his nose pointed at the ground, and occasionally let out an eager cry from his nose, explaining what we were looking for. The smell is still strong.

We went through Streatham, Brixton, Camberwell, and many lanes, until we came to the east of Ofer until we came to Kennington Road.The person we're after seems to be taking a detour, perhaps deliberately to avoid being followed.Wherever there is a winding path, they avoid the right path.From the end of Kennington Road they turned to the left, passed Securities Street, Myers Road and reached Knight Street.Toby stopped walking suddenly, just ran back and forth, with one ear drooping and the other erect, as if hesitating.Then it turned a few more times and raised its head, as if asking us for instructions.

Holmes scolded: "What's the matter with this dog? Criminals don't get in cars, and they don't get away in balloons."

"They may have stopped here," I suggested.

Relieved, my partner exclaimed, "Ah, well, it's gone again."

The dog is indeed moving again.After it sniffed around for a while, it seemed to suddenly make up its mind and galloped with unprecedented strength and determination.The smell seemed to be stronger than before, because it didn't need to touch the ground with its nose, but stretched the rope and ran forward.Holmes' eyes were bright, and he seemed to feel that he was almost at the den.

We passed Nine Elms to Broderick and Nelson's Big Wood near the White Eagle Hotel.Excited and nervous, the dog ran through the side door into the lumberyard where the sawmills had already started to work. He continued to run through the piles of sawdust and shavings, along the path lined with piled timber, and finally barked triumphantly. Then he jumped onto a wooden barrel that was still on the handcart.Toby stood on the barrel with his tongue out and blinking, looking at us both triumphantly.The sides of the barrels and the wheels of the handcart were stained with black oil, and there was a strong smell of creosote in the air.

Sherlock Holmes and I looked at each other, then threw our heads back into laughter.

Eight Baker Street Detective Squad

I asked, "What now? Toby has lost his ability to hit the target."

Holmes took Toby off the barrel, led him out of the lumber yard, and said, "Toby acts according to his own opinion. If you calculate the amount of creosote transported in London every day, then you You can see why we went the wrong way. There are many places where creosote is used, especially in the preservation of wood, so Toby is not to be blamed."

I suggested: "Let's go back to the place where the smell of oil is mixed."

"Yeah, fortunately the road is not far away. Toby hesitated on the left side of the Street of Knights. Obviously, the direction of the oily smell diverged there. We took the wrong road, and now we have to follow another road to find it. "

We lead Toby back to the original place where the mistake happened.Toby made a full circle and ran off in a new direction without any effort.

"Be careful of Toby, don't let it lead us where the creosote barrels came from," I cried.

"I thought of that too. But you see it is running on the sidewalk, and the cart carrying the barrels should be on the road, so we did not go the wrong way this time."

Through Belmont Road and Princes Street, Toby ran towards the waterfront, until he came to a small timber wharf on the Broad Street.Toby led us near the water's edge, where he stood looking at the water, snorting.

"It's our bad luck," said Holmes, "that they've come aboard here." There were several small flat-bottomed boats and boats moored to the quay.We led Toby to each of the boats, and although he sniffed each one carefully, he made no sign of it.

Near the embarkation was a small brick house, and at the second window hung a wooden sign, in large letters, "Merdecai Smith."Underneath it was written in small print: "Boat Hire: by the hour or by the day." There was another sign on the door, which said that there were other small steamboats here.There is a lot of coke piled up on the pier, which can be known to be the fuel of the steamer.Holmes looked round slowly, with a look of displeasure on his face.

He said: "This matter seems to be a bit troublesome. They prepared to hide their whereabouts in advance, and their shrewdness exceeded my expectations."

He walked towards the door, and a curly-haired little boy, about six years old, ran out of it.A fat, red-faced woman was chasing after her, holding a sponge in her hand.

She shouted, "Jack, come back and take a bath! Come back, you little devil! Your father will never let you go lightly when he comes back and sees you like this!"

Holmes took advantage of this opportunity to say, "Little boy, you have a bright red face. You are such a good boy! Jack, do you want anything?"

The boy thought for a moment, and said, "I want a shilling."

"Don't you want better than a shilling?"

The innocent boy thought for a while and said, "It's best to give me two shillings."

"Well, then, catch! Mrs. Smith, he's a good boy."

"Sir, he is so naughty. My wife sometimes goes out all day, and I can't control him at all."

Holmes asked with feigned disappointment: "Ah, he has gone out? What an unfortunate coincidence! I have come to see Mr. Smith on business."

"Sir, he has been away since yesterday morning. To tell you the truth, he hasn't come back yet, and I'm a little anxious. But, sir, if you want to charter a boat, you can also talk to me."

"I'll hire his steamboat."

"He went in that steamer, sir. I know there isn't enough coal on board to get to Woolwich and back. If he'd gone in a galleon, I wouldn't be in such a hurry, because sometimes he's still farther." Going to Grevesand, as far away. Besides, if he has something to do, there may be some delay, but how can the steamer go without coal?"

"Or he could buy some coal along the way."

"Maybe, but he never does, and he's always saying it's too expensive for a sack of coal. Besides, I don't like the man with the wooden legs, and his ugly face and foreign air. He used to come here. , I don’t know what happened to him.”

"A man with a wooden leg?" asked Holmes in surprise.

"Yes, sir! A rascal boy who's been here more than once, and who got my wife out of bed last night. And my wife knew he was coming beforehand, because he'd fired up the steamboat." Waiting. I tell you the truth, sir, I'm really worried."

"But my dear Mrs. Smith," said Holmes, shrugging his shoulders. "How do you know that it was the man with the wooden leg who came last night? I wonder how you can be so sure."

"Sir, I knew it from his thick, muffled accent. He knocked on the window a few times—it was about three o'clock—and said, 'Get up, man, we've got to go!' My wife put Jim--my older son woke up too, and my father and I went away without saying a word. I can still hear the wooden leg on the stone."

"Is it the one with the wooden leg that came, without a companion?"

"Sir, I don't know about it. Anyway, I didn't hear that there was someone else."

"Mrs. Smith, as luck would have it, I'd like to hire a steamboat, because I've heard of this one a long time ago. . . Let me see! This boat is called . . . "

"Sir, the name of the ship is Dawn."

"Ah, isn't that the old green boat with the broad yellow line on the side?"

"No, it's not. It's just like the neat little boats you see on the river, freshly painted, with two red lines painted on the black hull."

"Thank you. I hope Mr. Smith will be back soon. I'm going downriver now, and if I meet the Aurora, I'll tell him you're thinking of him. You said the funnel of that ship Is it black?"

"No, it's a black chimney with a white line."

"Oh, yes, the hull is black. Good-bye, Mrs. Smith! There's a little sampan there, Watson. Ask him to ferry us across the river."

After sitting on the boat, Holmes said: "The most important thing when talking to such people is not to let them know that what they say is related to you, otherwise they will immediately shut up. If you use words to tease, You'll get what you want to know."

"Our next steps are clear," I said.

"What do you want to do?"

"Hire a steamboat and go downriver in search of the Dawn."

"My good friend, your method is too troublesome. The ship may berth at any wharf from here to Greenwich. There are all berthing places within tens of miles of the bridge. I don’t know how long it will take to find it.”

"Then ask the police for help?"

"No, I might call in Ethelney Jones at the last minute. He's not a bad fellow, and I don't want to interfere with his position. We've got this far in the investigation, and I'd like to go it alone. "

"How about we place an advertisement in the newspaper so that we can get news of the Dawn from the dock master?"

"That's worse! Then the bandits will know we're after them, and they'll get away from England as fast as they can. Even now they don't want to go away. But when they think they're still safe, they don't." Will be eager to leave. Jones' actions are beneficial to us, because his opinions are published in the newspapers every day, and those gangsters will think that everyone is investigating in the wrong direction, and they can live in peace for a while."

As we disembarked in front of Millbank Jail, I asked, "So what the hell are we going to do?"

"Now we'll go home in this car, have some breakfast, and sleep an hour, and maybe we'll have to run to-night. Please stop at the telegraph office, coachman. We'll leave Toby for now, and it may be useful later on." where it is."

We stopped at the Great Peter Street Post Office, and Holmes sent a telegram.He got in the car and asked me, "Do you know who I'm telegraphing?"

"do not know."

"Do you remember the Baker Street squad we employed in the Jefferson Hope case?"

I laughed and said, "It's them!"

"They might be of use in this case. If they fail, I have other options, but I would like to try them first. The telegram was sent to that little captain, Wiggins, at The group of kids will be here before we finish our breakfast."

It was eight or nine o'clock in the morning.The whole night's running around made me feel very tired, and my legs were limping when I walked. I was really exhausted.As for the case, I did not have my partner's professional enthusiasm for the investigation, nor did I regard it as a mere abstract theoretical problem.As for the murder of Bartholomew Sholto, because everyone didn't have much praise for his usual behavior, so I don't have any special dislike for the murderers.But when it comes to treasures, that's a different story.These treasures—or parts of them—rightly belonged to Miss Morstan.When there may be a chance to retrieve the treasure, I will do my best to retrieve it.Although, if the treasure can be recovered, I may never be able to get close to her.But if love is swayed by this kind of thinking, then this kind of love becomes an expression of boredom and selfishness.If Holmes can find the murderer, I shall try ten times harder to find the treasure.

After a bath and a change of clothes at home in Baker Street, my spirits improved.When I went downstairs, I saw that breakfast had been prepared, and Holmes was pouring the coffee.

He smiled and pointed to an open newspaper and said to me: "Look, this high-minded Jones and a vulgar reporter have taken care of this case. This case has troubled you enough, let's go first." Eat your ham and eggs."

I took the paper from him, with the headline "The Strange Case of Upper Norwood."This "Standard" reported that Mr. Bartholomew Sholto, the owner of Sakura Moor Cottage in Upper Norwood, died in his room at about twelve o'clock last night, apparently by assassination.As far as this newspaper has learned, there is no trace of wounds on the body of the deceased, but a batch of Indian treasures that the deceased inherited from his father have all been stolen.The deceased's younger brother, Mr. Thaddeus Sholto, together with Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson who came to visit the deceased, first discovered that the deceased had been murdered.Fortunately, Mr. Ethelney Jones, a well-known police detective, happened to be at the Upper Norwood Police Station at the time, so he was able to arrive at the scene and preside over everything within half an hour after the tragedy.Well-trained and experienced, he spotted the clues shortly after arriving on the scene.The deceased's brother, Thaddeus Sholto, has been arrested as a major suspect.Also arrested were the housekeeper, Mrs. Burnstone, the Indian servant, Lal Rao, and the porter, McMurdo.It has been confirmed that the murderer was very familiar with the way in and out of the house.Owing to Mr. Jones' skilled technique and careful observation, it was confirmed that the murderer could not enter the room through doors and windows, but must have sneaked in through a secret door from the roof.From this obvious fact it can be concluded that this is no ordinary theft.The timely and responsible handling of the police department shows that in this case, there must be an experienced officer in charge of everything.It is worth considering the suggestion to disperse the detective forces of the city's police stations so that they can arrive at the scene of the crime in time for investigation. "

Holmes sipped his coffee and said with a smile, "This is great! What do you think?"

"I think we were also close to being considered murderers and going to be arrested."

"I think so too. As long as he has another flash of inspiration, it's hard to guarantee that we will also be arrested."

At this moment the doorbell rang, and our landlady, Mrs. Hudson, was heard arguing loudly.

I stooped to my feet, and exclaimed: "My God, Holmes, those fellows are really after us!"

"Not yet. This is our unofficial army—the Baker Street motley crew."

While talking, there was the sound of walking barefoot and talking loudly on the stairs, and then a dozen or so little homeless people in ragged clothes walked in.Although they walked in noisily, they still had a sense of discipline.Immediately after entering the door, they stood in a row, facing us, waiting for us to speak.Among them was an older man, who seemed to be the captain, standing in the front, full of air, his shabby clothes and such an air seemed ridiculous.

"I brought them at once, sir, at your order. The fare was three shillings and sixpence."

After Holmes gave him the money, he said, "Here is the money. I told you, Wiggins, that you should come by yourself if you need anything from now on. They listen to your call. Don't bring them all. My house can't accommodate so many." People. But this time, it doesn't matter if all of them come here, they can hear my orders directly. I am now looking for a steamboat named 'Dawn', the owner is called Mordecai Smith. The hull is black , with two red lines, and a white line on the black chimney, the boat is down the river. I want a boy to stand guard on the dock at Merdecai Smith, across from Millbank Prison. As soon as the boat comes back Report. You must disperse on both sides of the lower reaches, search meticulously, and report as soon as you have news. Do you understand everything?"

Wiggins said: "Yes, Commander, I heard everything clearly."

"The reward is still in accordance with the previous practice. If you find the boat, you will be rewarded with an extra guinea. This is your day's wages in advance. Let's go now!" He gave everyone a shilling, and the children went downstairs happily.After a while, I saw them disappear in the middle of the road.

Holmes stood up from the table, lit his pipe, and said: "As long as the ship remains afloat, we shall find her. They can run about, see all kinds of things, and overhear anyone. I reckon they will come back with news of the steamboat before dusk, and now we just have to wait. We can't proceed to the next step of the investigation until we find the Dawn or Merdecai Smith."

"Toby will just eat our leftovers. Will you rest for a while, Holmes?"

"No, I don't feel tired. I have a very special constitution. I don't feel tired at all when I'm working, and it makes me feel weak when I'm idle. I'm going to smoke now, and I need to think carefully about my female client." This strange thing was entrusted to us. This problem is actually not difficult to solve, because there are not many people with wooden legs. And the other person is even more unique."

"You mentioned that other person again."

"At least I didn't try to keep a secret from you, but you may have your own ideas. Now let's consider all the cases we've collected: small footprints, bare feet with no shoes on, a stick with a stone at one end, quick movements and Poisonous wood thorns. What conclusions can you draw from these?"

I yelled, "A stranger! Probably an Indian with Jonnozan Small."

He said: "It's not quite like that. At first, when I saw a strange weapon, I thought so too. But because of the special footprints, I thought about it in another direction. Some residents of the Indian Peninsula are very short. Yes, but no one can leave such footprints. The feet of native Indians are narrow and long, and the Muslims who wear sandals are separated from the other toes because the shoelaces are tied in the toe close to the thumb. These wooden thorns It can only be launched through a blowpipe. Where should we find such a creature?"

I replied, "From South America."

(End of this chapter)