The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 77 Memoirs (6) ([-])
"As I said earlier, my initial feelings were one of pity and fear. Later, I took the patient's pulse and temperature, tested his muscular stiffness, checked his reflexes, and found nothing similar to mine. There have been inconsistencies in previous cases of this kind diagnosed. In such cases in the past I have had good results with the use of alkyl nitrite inhalers. Now seems an excellent opportunity to test its efficacy. This vial Downstairs in my laboratory, so I ran downstairs to get the medicine. About 5 minutes later, I found the medicine and came back. But the room was empty and the patient had disappeared. You can imagine how surprised I was up.

"Of course, I ran into the waiting room first, and his son wasn't there. The front door was closed, but unlocked. My patient servant was a newcomer and not very clever. He usually waited downstairs. , when I rang the bell in the consulting room, he came to take the patient out. He heard nothing, and the matter became a mystery. Mr. Blessington came back from his walk a short time later, but I didn't mention it to him because, to be honest, I try to talk to him as little as possible these days.

"I don't think I'll ever see the Russian and his son again, so I was even more surprised when they came to my office again tonight, at that time, as they did yesterday.

"'I feel so sorry for my sudden departure yesterday,' said my patient.

"'I admit, I am very curious about it,' said I.

"'The thing is,' said he, 'that every time I wake up I have a very dim recollection of everything that happened during my illness. I feel that I wake up in a strange house, When you were gone, I got up in a daze and went out into the street.'

"His son said: 'Seeing my father walk by the door of the waiting room, I thought it was over. I didn't know the truth until we got home.'

"'Well,' I said with a smile, 'it's nothing more than you're puzzling me. So, sir, if you'd like to go to the waiting room, I'm happy to go ahead with yesterday's sudden Interrupted diagnosis and treatment.'

"I discussed his condition with the old gentleman for about half an hour, and then I gave him a prescription, after which he went out with the help of his son.

"I have already told you that Mr. Blessington usually goes out for a walk at this hour. After a while he came back from his walk and went upstairs. After a while he came running down like a madman, Come into my consulting room.

"'Who has come into my house?' he cried.

"'No one has been,' I said.

"'Lie!' he roared, 'come up and see!'

"I didn't pay attention to the rudeness of his speech, because he was almost mad with fear. When I went upstairs with him, he pointed out to me a few footprints on the light-colored carpet.

"'You say these are my footprints?' he cried.

"These footprints are obviously much larger than his, and they were left not long ago. You know, it rained heavily at noon today, and my patients are only the father and son who came here just now. So, they must be waiting in the waiting room. The man who died, for some purpose, went upstairs into my inpatient's room while I was busy with the old man's diagnosis. Nothing was moved, nothing was taken, but these footprints prove that nothing There was no doubt that someone had gone in.

"As disturbing as it is, Mr. Blessington appeared surprisingly agitated. He actually sat in an armchair and kept shouting. It was he who asked me to come to you, and of course I looked at it immediately. It is proper that this should be done. For though he seems to have overestimated the importance of the matter, it is certain that there is something wrong in it. I can hardly expect you to be able to explain this strange thing that has happened, I just wish you could go back with me, at least you could calm him down."

Sherlock Holmes listened attentively to this long narrative, and could see that the matter aroused his keen interest.Though he was as expressionless as ever, his eyes were narrowing more and more, and the smoke curling up from his pipe was growing thicker.As soon as Dr. Trevelyan had finished speaking, Holmes stood up without saying a word, handed me my hat, grabbed his own from the table, and followed Dr. Trevelyan to the door.In less than a quarter of an hour we were at the doctor's apartment in Brook Street.We were shown in by a little page, and we immediately ascended wide, finely carpeted stairs.

However, a strange thing happened suddenly, which forced us to stop.The lights on the roof went out suddenly, and a thin, trembling voice came from the darkness: "I have a pistol, and I warn you, if you go any higher, I will shoot you."

"This is intolerable, Mr. Blessington," cried Dr. Trevelyan.

"Oh, so it's you, doctor," the man said with a sigh of relief, "but aren't the other gentlemen pretending to be?"

We knew that he had watched us carefully in the dark.

"Yes, yes, that's all right," said the voice at last, "you can come up, I'm sorry I was so rude to you just now."

As he spoke, he lit the lamp on the stairs, and we saw a strange-looking man standing in front of him.Judging from his appearance and speaking voice, he is indeed overwrought.He was fat, evidently at a time when he was much fatter than he is now, so that his face had two loose bags of flesh hanging down like the cheeks of a hound.He was pale, and his thin khaki hair seemed to stand on end with emotion.He had a pistol in his hand, and he put it in his pocket as we came up.

"Good night, Mr. Holmes," said he. "Thank you very much for being here. No one needs your help more than I. I think Dr. Trevelyan has told you about the break-ins into my room. "

"Yes," said Holmes. "Who are they? Why should they play tricks on you, Mr. Blessington?"

"Well," said the inpatient, uneasily, "it is difficult, of course. You can hardly expect me to answer such questions, Mr. Holmes."

"Are you saying you don't know?"

"Come here please, please come in."

He led us into his bedroom.The rooms are spacious and comfortably furnished.

"You see," he said, pointing to the big black box beside his bed, "I am not a very rich man, Mr. Holmes, as Dr. Trevelyan may have told you. I have never had anything in my life except this investment. , and no other investment. I don't trust bankers, I never trust bankers, Mr. Holmes. You don't tell anyone, all my savings are in this box. So you can understand, when those uninvited guests broke in My house, why am I so disturbed!"

Holmes looked at Blessington suspiciously and shook his head.

"If you try to deceive me, I cannot help you," said Holmes.

"But I have told you everything."

Holmes waved his hand in disgust, turned, and said, "Good night, Dr. Trevelyan."

"Aren't you going to help me?" cried Blessington in a trembling voice.

"The premise of my help to you is to tell the truth, sir."

1 minute later, we were already on the street, walking towards the house.We crossed Oxford Street and reached Harley Street when I heard my friend speak.

"I am very sorry, Watson, to make you waste your time on behalf of such a fool," said Holmes at last. "But it is, after all, an interesting case."

"I can't see anything," I admitted frankly.

"Obviously, there were two guys, maybe more than two, but at least two guys, for some reason, were determined to find this guy in Blessington. I'm pretty sure that young man broke into the Bloomington's twice. room, while his accomplices used an ingenious device to prevent the doctor from intervening."

"But what about the catalepsy?"

"It's a lie, Watson, and it's an easy disease to fake. I've done it myself."

"And what happened next?"

"It was a complete coincidence that Blessington was not in the room on both occasions. They chose this time on purpose, apparently to make sure that there were no other patients in the waiting room. The fact that it happened to be Blessington's walk seemed to indicate that They didn't know Blessington's daily habits very well. If they were just trying to steal, they would at least try to search for the property. Besides, I could see in Blessington's eyes that he was too frightened to know what to do. It's hard to imagine that this guy has made such two enemies and he doesn't know. Therefore, I'm sure, he knows who these two people are, but due to his own reasons, he has concealed it, and it is likely that tomorrow he will Tell the truth."

"Is there no other possibility?" I said. "No doubt it is unlikely, but it is conceivable. Could it be that Dr. Trevelyan himself, with evil intentions, broke into the Blessington room, And make up about this catatonic Russian and his son?"

In the light I saw that this thought elicited a grin from Holmes.

"My dear friend," said Holmes, "I thought so at first. I soon confirmed, however, what the doctor said. The young man left his footprints on the stair-carpet, so that I should not have to repeat it." Look at the footprints he left indoors. His shoes are square-toed, not pointed like Blessington's, and an inch and three longer than the doctor's. Obviously there is such a young man. That's all for the day, we can sleep now. I'd be surprised if we hear nothing new from Brook Street tomorrow morning."

Sherlock Holmes' prophecy was quickly and dramatically fulfilled.At 07:30 the next morning, I saw Holmes standing beside my bed in his dressing gown.

"There is a carriage waiting for us outside, Watson," said Holmes.

"what happened?"

"It's about Brook Street."

"Anything new?"

"A tragedy, but not necessarily," said Holmes, drawing up the curtains. "Look at this, a sheet torn from a notebook, on which is scrawled in pencil: Come at once, for my own sake. Percy Trevelyan.' Our friend, the Doctor, is in a difficult position as he writes this note. Come with me, as it is urgent."

A quarter of an hour later we were again at the doctor's apartment.He ran to meet us in terror.

"Something has happened!" he yelled, putting his hands to his temples.

"What happened?"

"Brisington has committed suicide!"

Holmes whistled.

"Last night he hanged himself."

The doctor ushered us into the room that served as a waiting room.

"I don't know what to do," he said aloud. "The police are upstairs. It's frightening me."

"When did you find out?"

"Early every morning he had the maid bring him a cup of tea. When the maid came in about seven o'clock, he was hanging in the middle of the room. He tied a rope to the hook on which the heavy gas lamp usually hung. and then he jumped off the top of the box he showed us yesterday and hanged himself."

Holmes stood for a moment in thought.

At last Holmes said: "I should like to go upstairs and see, if you will allow me."

The two of us went upstairs, the doctor followed.

Upon entering the bedroom door, we were greeted with a terrifying sight.I once said about that Blessington's flabby look.When he dangled precariously from the hook, his appearance was even more ugly, and he hardly looked like a human being.His neck was elongated, like the neck of a plucked chicken, even more out of harmony with his fat body.He was only wearing a long pajamas.Under the pajamas, those ugly feet and swollen ankles stretched out straight.

Next to the corpse stood a capable sheriff, taking notes.

"Ah, Mr. Holmes," said the Inspector cordially, as soon as my friend had entered, "it is a pleasure to meet you."

"Good morning, Lannor," replied Holmes. "I hope you do not think me a criminal who broke into the house. Do you know anything about the circumstances leading up to this case?"

"Yes, I've learned a little bit."

"What do you think?"

"It seems to me that this man has been scared out of his wits. You see, he has been asleep for a long time, and there are deep indentations in the bed. You know, suicide usually happens around five o'clock in the morning. This is about the time he It's time to hang himself. It seems that he made this choice after careful consideration."

"From the stiffness of the muscles, I estimate he's been dead for about three hours," I said.

"Have you noticed anything unusual in the room?" asked Holmes.

"Found a screwdriver and some screws over the sink. Also found he seemed to have smoked a good deal during the night. Here are the butts of four cigars I picked up from the fireplace."

"Have you found his cigar-holder?" asked Holmes.

"No."

"And what about his cigarette case?"

"The cigarette case is in his coat pocket."

Holmes opened the case and sniffed a cigar which was inside.

"Ah, it's a Havana, and these cigars on the mantelpiece are a special variety that Holland imports from its East Indies colonies. They're usually straw-wrapped, you know, and thinner than the other brands. He picked up the four cigarette butts and examined them carefully with a magnifying glass.

"Two of the cigarettes were smoked in mouthpieces, and two were not," said Holmes. "Two were cut with a blunt knife, and the other two with sharp teeth. This was no suicide." Mr Lannoll, this was a well-planned murder."

"Impossible!" cried the sheriff.

"why?"

"Why should a man commit murder in such a foolish way as by hanging?"

"That's what we're going to investigate."

"How did they get in here?"

"It came in through the front door."

"The door is locked in the morning."

"The door was locked after they left."

"How did you know?"

"I see the traces they left behind. Please wait a moment, and I will be able to explain its situation to you further in a moment."

Holmes went to the door, turned the lock, and examined it carefully.Then he took the key from the back of the door, and examined it carefully.Then, in turn, he examined the bed, the carpet, the chairs, the mantelpiece, the body of the deceased, and the ropes.At last he expressed his satisfaction, and with the help of me and the sheriff, cut the rope, and laid the poor man on the ground, and covered him with a sheet.

"What's with this rope?" he asked.

Dr. Trevelyan drew a large coil of rope from under the bed, and said: "It was cut from it. He was very afraid of fire, and always kept it close by, so that he could escape through the window if the stairs burned." go out."

"It has saved murderers a great deal of trouble," said Holmes thoughtfully. "The case is so obvious that I should be surprised if I should not be able to tell you how it happened by this afternoon. I will Take the photograph of Blessington on the mantelpiece for my further investigation."

"But you didn't tell us anything!" cried the doctor.

"The circumstances of the incident are evidently such," said Holmes, "that there are three persons involved: the young man, the old man, and a third person, of whom I have no clue. The first two, without my help." Said, it was the man who pretended to be a Russian nobleman and his son, so we can describe them in great detail. They were let in by an accomplice in this house. Sheriff, you should arrest the footman. According to I understand that he has only recently joined your clinic, Doctor."

"He has disappeared," said Trevelyan. "The maid and the cook were looking for him just now."

Holmes shrugged his shoulders.

"His part in the case was not insignificant," said Holmes. "These three men went up the stairs on tiptoe, the old man in front, the young man in the middle, and the footman behind. . . . "

"My dear Holmes!" I exclaimed suddenly.

"Footprints on top of footprints, that's evident. I could make out their footprints the night before. Then, when they went up the stairs to Blessington's door, they found it locked. Then he used the A wire to turn the key inside. You can tell from the scratches on the tongue and groove of this key, even without a magnifying glass, where they have been hard.

"They must have gagged Mr. Blessington first when they came into the room. He might have fallen asleep, or was too frightened to shout. The walls are so thick here that even if he could have shouted once or twice No one could hear his cries for help.

"They talked about it for quite some time after they had him in place, and it was evident that they couldn't agree. For during this time they smoked these cigars. The old man sat in the wicker chair, and while he was smoking It was a cigar holder. The young man was sitting far away, knocking the ashes on the opposite side of the wardrobe. A third was pacing up and down the room. Blessington was sitting upright on the bed at this time, I think, but I'm not entirely sure about this.

"In the end, they hung Blessington. That's what they had arranged, because I believe they brought some kind of pulley with them to use as a gallows. The screwdriver and those screws were, I reckon, For the installation of the gallows pulleys. However, they saw the hooks, which naturally saved them a lot of trouble. After this was done, and two of them escaped, their accomplices locked the door again."

We listened with rapt attention to Holmes' account of the general outlines of the previous night's case, which he had deduced from the slightest indications, and we could scarcely follow his train of thought even as he gave us an account of the circumstances.Afterwards the Inspector hurried off to look up the page, while Holmes and I returned to Baker Street for breakfast.

(End of this chapter)