The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 6 Research on Scarlet Characters (5)
"My God, it is so, sir!" said he; "but how did you know? God knows! Well, when I got to the door, I felt suddenly so lonely and deserted that I thought it best Or find someone to go in with me. I'm not afraid of anything in the world. It occurred to me at the time that maybe it was the man who died of typhoid fever, and maybe it was he who was checking the gutter that killed him. Thinking like this , so frightened I turned and left, and went back to the gate, and went to see if I could see Mochi's lantern. But I couldn't even see him, let alone anyone else."

"Is there no one in the street?"

"There was no one, sir, not even a dog. So I took courage to go back again, and opened the door. It was very quiet, so I went into the lighted room. I saw a candle burning on the mantel-piece, it was a red candle, and the candle was flickering, and by the light I saw--"

"Okay, I know what you saw. You walked around the house a few times, and knelt down beside the dead body, then went to push the kitchen door, and then—"

John Luans jumped up suddenly when he heard this, his face was full of horror, and there was a look of suspicion in his eyes.He said aloud: "Could it be that you were hiding somewhere and saw the scene so clearly? I think you shouldn't know these things."

Holmes laughed, took out his card, and flung it across the table to the policeman. "Don't arrest me for a murderer," said he. "I'm only a hound and not a wolf. Mr. Grayson and Mr. Lestrade can prove that. Go on, then, and you did some more after that." what?"

Luan Si sat down again, but the suspicious expression on his face was still there, "I went to the gate and blew the siren, and Mochi and two other policemen came immediately."

"Was there no one in the street at that time?" asked Holmes again.

"Yes, everyone who is serious has gone home." Luan Si replied affirmatively.

"What is the meaning of this?" demanded Holmes.

The policeman smiled and said, "I've seen a lot of drunks in my life, but I've never seen one as drunk as that guy. When I came out, he was standing at the door, leaning against the railing at the top of the house, singing at the top of his voice that part of Columban's ditty or something of that sort. He can't stand upright, there's nothing he can do about it."

"What kind of man is he?" asked Holmes.

John Rance seemed a little displeased at Holmes' interruption.He said: "He is a rare drunk. If we hadn't been so busy, we would have sent him to the police."

"His face, his clothes, have you noticed?" said Holmes again, unable to restrain himself.

"I think I did notice then, because Mochi and I went to help him up. He was a tall guy with a red face and a ring of—"

"That is enough," interrupted Holmes loudly. "And what happened to him?"

"We were so busy at the time, how could we have time for him?" he said.

Then the policeman said rather dissatisfied: "I bet he knows his way home."

"What kind of clothes is he wearing?" continued Holmes.

"A brown coat," said the policeman affirmatively.

"Have you got a riding whip in your hand?" asked Holmes inquiringly.

"Horse whip? No." The policeman thought for a while and replied.

"He must have dropped it," muttered my companion. "Did you see or hear a carriage go by afterwards?"

"No," said the policeman.

"Here is your half-pound," said my companion, rising up, putting on his hat. "I fear, Luans, that you will never rise in the police force. That head of yours is not only a decoration, but Should be of some use. You could have gotten a sheriff or something last night. The man you met last night was the lead in this mystery case, and we're going to find him now. There's nothing to argue about now. Useful. I tell you, it is. Come on, doctor."

So we went out together to look for our carriage, leaving the policeman still standing there dubiously, but he was obviously feeling uneasy.

As we were driving home, Holmes exclaimed, "What a fool! Just imagine how he let such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity come to pass."

"I'm still confused. Of course, the man the policeman described is exactly what you imagined him to be, but why should he come back? It's not the behavior of a criminal."

"Ring, sir, ring, that's what he came back for. If we have no other way of catching him, we can use this ring as a bait for him. I'll catch him, Doctor—I dare I bet you two to one on this, and I'm sure I'll catch him. I'd like to thank you for all of that. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be going, and I'd lose this never-before-seen We've had a research opportunity. Shall we call it a 'Study in Scarlet'? Let's use some beautiful words. Murder runs like a red thread through the mundane entanglements of life. Our duty is Going to find it, clean it out of your life, and expose it completely. Well, let's go eat first, and then listen to Norman Neruda's music performance. Her fingering and bowing are simply amazing . She played that little piece of Chopin's wonderfully: tra-la-la-leila-leila-le."

The unofficial detective leaned on the carriage and sang like a lark, while I meditated silently, it seems that the human mind is really omnipotent.

[-] Ads That Draw Uninvited Visitors

After being busy for a while in the morning, my body was really overwhelmed, so in the afternoon I felt extremely tired.After Holmes went to the concert, I lay on the sofa and tried to sleep for two hours, but couldn't.All the things that happened before made me very excited, and my mind was full of many strange ideas and guesses.As soon as I close my eyes, the victim's distorted, monkey-like features appear before my eyes.It strikes me as very ugly.It is difficult for me to feel anything but gratitude for the murderer who removed a man of such appearance from the world.If appearances can really represent a person's sin, it must be like this Enoch Dreb of Cleveland.Even so, I think the issue should be dealt with fairly.Legally, the crime of the victim does not offset the guilt of the murderer.

My partner speculated that the man had been poisoned, and the more I thought about it, the more unusual it seemed to me.I remember that Holmes sniffed the lips of the dead specifically, and I am sure he must have discovered something to give him such an idea.Moreover, there were neither wounds nor signs of being strangled on the corpse. If it was not poisoning, then what caused the death?But how to explain the blood splattered on the floor?In the house, neither traces of scuffling nor the murder weapon used by the deceased to injure the other party could be found.If questions of this kind remain unanswered, I do not think it will be easy for either Holmes or myself to sleep peacefully.The calm and self-assured manner of Holmes convinced me that he had already had an idea of ​​the whole case.Although what his thoughts are, I can't guess for a while.

Holmes returned very late.I firmly believe that there is no way he would come back so late for a concert.When he came back, supper was already on the table.

"Today's music is really wonderful," said Holmes, sitting down. "Do you remember Darwin's views on music? He believed that long before human beings had the ability to speak, they had the ability to create and appreciate music." .Maybe this is why we are so susceptible to music for no reason. In the depths of our minds, perhaps, there are still vague memories of scenes from times when the world was in chaos."

"That view seems too broad," I said.

Holmes said: "If a man wants to describe nature, then his imagination must be as wide as nature... What's the matter? I feel that you are not the same today. Brixton Has the case of Lou disturbed you?"

I said, "Honestly, this case has really disturbed me. After my experience in Afghanistan, I should have been tougher. At the Battle of Maiwand, I saw my comrades in flesh and blood. Flying around, but I wasn't scared at the time."

"I can understand that. There is indeed something mysterious about the case which invites the imagination. If there is no imagination, there is no fear. Have you read the evening papers?"

"No."

"The Evening Papers describe the case in considerable detail, but fail to mention that a woman's wedding ring fell on the floor when the body was lifted up. But it would have been better if it had not been mentioned."

"why?"

"Look at the advertisement," said Holmes. "As soon as I discovered the case this morning, I placed an advertisement in the papers."

With that said, he handed me the newspaper, and I glanced at the place he was pointing at.This is the first ad for Lost and Found, and it reads: "A gold wedding ring was found this morning on Brixton Road, between the White Hart Tavern and Holland Grove. Please return it tonight. From 221:[-] to [-]:[-] to Dr. Watson, [-]B Baker Street."

"I beg you not to be offended," said Holmes, "that I have used your name in the advertisement. If I had used my own, perhaps some of those stupid detectives would have spotted it, and would have intervened."

"That's all right," I answered, "but I don't have a ring if anyone comes to claim it."

"Oh, yes," he said, handing me a ring, "this one barely holds up. It's almost the same as the original."

"Then who do you think will come to claim the lost property?"

"Well, that's the man in the brown coat, our red-faced friend in the square boots. If he doesn't come himself, he'll send an accomplice."

"Don't he know it's dangerous to do so?"

"Absolutely not. If my analysis of the case is correct--I have every reason to believe that I am. This man would rather risk anything than lose the ring. It was, I think, when he stooped The ring fell from Drebber's body while he was inspecting it, but he didn't notice it at the time. After leaving the house, he realized that he had lost the ring, and turned back hastily. But then he found that because of his My own carelessness did not extinguish the candle, so that the police had already discovered the scene. At this time, if he appeared at the door of this house, he was very suspicious. Therefore, he had to pretend to be drunk You might as well put yourself in his place: when he had thought the whole thing over carefully, it must have occurred to him that he might have dropped the ring on the road after leaving that house. So what to do? He must have been eager to look for it in the evening papers, hoping to find something in the Lost and Found column. So he must be very happy to see this advertisement. The snare? It doesn't make sense to him that the ring search doesn't have to have anything to do with the assassination. He'll come, he'll come, and you'll see him in an hour."

"What shall we do when he comes?" I asked.

"Well, you will leave me to deal with him then. Have you any weapons?" said Holmes.

"I have an old army revolver and some cartridges," I replied.

"You'd better clean it up and load it. I reckon the guy is a desperado. I could catch him by surprise, but it's better to be prepared just in case."

I went back to the bedroom and got ready as he said.When I came out with a pistol, I saw that the dining table had been cleaned up, and Holmes was playing with his favorite thing—the violin.

Seeing me come in, Holmes said: "The case is getting closer and closer. I have just received a reply to my telegram to America, which confirms my view of the case."

I hurriedly asked, "Is that so?"

"It would be better if I had new strings on my violin," said Holmes. "You put the pistol in your pocket. When the fellow comes in, talk to him in an ordinary tone, and leave the rest to me." Come and deal with it. Don't make a fuss, so as not to startle the snake." Holmes urged.

I looked at my watch and said, "It's eight o'clock at night."

"Yes, he may be there in a few minutes. Open the door a little. . . well, put the key in it. Thank you! This is a rare old book that I happened to pick up at the bookstall yesterday. It is called "On the Laws of the Nations," written in Latin, was published in Liege, Belgium, in [-]. When this little book bound in brown leather was published, Charles' head was still firmly planted in his On the neck."

"Who is the printer?"

"It's Philip de Croix, I don't know what kind of person it is. The title page of the book says 'Guilliam White Collection', the ink has long since faded. Don't know who William White is, maybe He is a positivist jurist of the seventeenth century, so even his calligraphy has a jurist's style—here comes the man, I think," said Holmes abruptly, changing the subject.

As he said this, the doorbell suddenly rang loudly.Holmes rose softly, and moved his chair towards the door.We heard the maid come across the porch and then unbolt the door.

"Does Dr. Watson live here?" inquired a man in a gruff but distinct voice.We did not hear the servant's answer, only that the door was closed again, and someone came upstairs.His footsteps were slow, as if he was shuffling.My friend listened, with a look of wonder on his face.Footsteps came slowly along the corridor, and then there was a slight knock on the door.

"Come in." I said loudly.

The one who came in was not the vicious man we imagined, but a wrinkled old woman.She stumbled into the room.After she came in, she was suddenly illuminated by the lights in the room, as if she was dazzled by the light.After she saluted, she just stood there, looking at us with her old dim eyes, and fumbled in her pockets with fingers trembling with convulsions.I glanced at my companion, who looked sullen, so I had to pretend to be calm.

The old woman took out an evening paper, pointed to the advertisement we had posted, and said, "I'm here for this, gentlemen," she said, giving another deep salute, "the advertisement said that someone Found a gold wedding ring in Brixton Road. It belongs to my daughter Sally, who was only married at this time last year. Her husband works as bookkeeper on an English ship. If he comes back and finds her The ring is gone, who knows how he will react. I really can't imagine. He is usually irritable, and he will become even more irritable after drinking some wine. I'm sorry, it's like this, last night she Going to the circus, with—"

"Is this her ring?" I interrupted.

The old woman exclaimed, "Thank God! Sally will be very happy to-night, and here is the ring she lost."

I picked up a pencil and asked, "Where do you live?"

"No. 13 Duncan Street, Honzdychi. It's a long way from here."

Holmes interrupted abruptly: "Brixton Road is not between the Honzdy Pool and some circus."

The old woman turned her face away. She looked sharply at Holmes with her small red eyes and said, "The gentleman was asking for my address just now. Sally lives at No. 3 Mayfield Apartments, Berkham. "

"What's your last name?"

"My name is Soyer, my daughter's name is Dennis, and her husband's name is Tom Dennis. He is really a handsome and honest boy on the ship. He is a very good accountant in the company, but when he comes ashore, he plays with women and drink wine--"

"This is your ring, Mrs. Sawyer," I interrupted my companion, following her cue. "This ring obviously belongs to your daughter. I am very glad that it has now been returned to its rightful owner."

After murmuring many thankful words, the old woman wrapped the ring in her pocket, and staggered downstairs.No sooner had she gone than Holmes rose and ran into his room.A few seconds later, he came out, already putting on his overcoat and fastening his scarf.Holmes said hastily: "I will follow her. She must be an accomplice, and she will lead me to the murderer. Don't sleep, and wait for me." The door had just slammed shut when the old woman went out. went downstairs.Looking out of the window, I saw the old woman walking feebly down the road, with Holmes following behind.At this moment, I thought to myself: If all Holmes' speculations are correct, he will now go straight to the tiger's den.He needn't have asked me to wait, for sleep was out of the question for me until I heard the outcome of his adventure.

It was nearly nine o'clock in the evening when Holmes went out. I didn't know how long he would be away, so I sat in my room smoking a pipe and flipping through a copy of "The Life of Bohemian" by Henri Mulger.After ten o'clock in the evening, I heard the footsteps of the maid going to bed.At eleven o'clock in the evening, the landlady's heavy footsteps sounded in front of the door, and she also went back to her room to sleep.It was nearly twelve o'clock in the evening when at last I heard Holmes unlock the latch on the front door with his key.As soon as he entered the room, I could tell by his face that he hadn't made it.Happy or upset, it seems that he has been playing tricks in his heart.After a while, joy overcame chagrin, and Holmes suddenly burst out laughing.

(End of this chapter)