Sherlock Holmes.

Chapter 168: Investigating Strange Cases (10)
"I heard that you are very wise, and I would like you to visit my collection. Do you have time now? If you have time, I will show you around now."

"What a coincidence. I have to go to the office to deal with some things, and I don't have time to visit now. I saw that your specimens are all labeled, and the classification is very clear. Even if you don't take me or give me an explanation, I can still understand. I probably have time tomorrow, can I come and visit?"

"Yes, I will go to Birmingham to-morrow, but the maid will be here before four o'clock in the afternoon, and she will let you in."

"Then you leave a message for the female worker, saying that I will come tomorrow. Besides, who is your real estate agent?"

Mr. Garrideb was taken aback for a moment, and replied: "Holloway Steele broker, who lives on West Street. Why do you ask this?"

Holmes laughed and said, "Well, since I am fond of house architecture, I wonder if your house is Georgian or Anne?"

"You can tell it's Georgian from the pillar."

"Probably so. Well, good-bye, Mr. Garrideb, and a pleasant journey."

Although the real estate agent lived not far from here, he was off work when we got there.So we went back to Holmes' house.

After dinner we talked about Garrideb again.

"What do you think, Watson? Is there a clue?"

"I still don't know."

"It should be said that part of it is already clear, and everything will be clear tomorrow. Have you found any flaws in that advertisement?"

"I don't see it. It's just a misspelling of 'plow'."

"Yes, it looks like you've made some progress. The spelling of 'plow' in the ad is correct in America, but wrong in England. Also, 'farm wagon' is only used by Americans, which is obviously a problem. American ads, claiming to be British companies. What do you think?"

"That's the ad that the Americans themselves put up. Why?"

"There are several explanations now, but it is certain that he wanted to trick old Garrideb to Birmingham. I wanted to remind the old gentleman not to go, it must be in vain, but then I thought it would be better to ask him to go, let's see What does this American guy want to do. We'll find out tomorrow, let's wait for tomorrow."

Holmes went out early the next morning, and came back at noon, not in a good mood.

"Watson, it seems that I must tell you the truth. This case is more serious and dangerous than I thought. I understand that the more I say this, the more willing you are to take risks with me. I know your character, but I still want to Said it was dangerous to go to old Garrideb's this time."

"Holmes, as long as you know me well, I must take an adventure with you. This is not the first time, nor will it be the last time. Tell me, how dangerous is it?"

"That's right. I've found out the real identity of lawyer Joe Garrideb. He turns out to be the 'killer' Evans with a rather sinister reputation."

"'Murderer'? Then he—"

"Maybe you haven't heard of the name. Since you are a doctor, you don't have to memorize the memorabilia of Newgate Prison. I just went to the police station to find an old friend. They may be inferior in other aspects, but the technical equipment is first-class. Yes. I saw the face of this American in the photographs of the criminals recorded in the files. His original name was James Winter, and his nickname was 'Murderer' Evans." Holmes took out a piece of paper and said :
"I copied some of the main stuff from his file, listen: age 44, originally from Chicago, shot five people in America, escaped from prison through gangs. Came to London in 1893. January 1895, at the Waterloo Road Another person was shot dead in a nightclub. The man killed was Roger Prescott, who was the largest counterfeiter in Chicago. Evans was imprisoned after the murder. He was released in 1 and has been under police surveillance since then. Do you understand, Watson? Our adversary is so dangerous, and it is said that he is always armed."

"But what is he going to do this time? What is the purpose of making up a story with a strange name?"

"Got it. I just went to the estate agent's. Garrideb has lived there for over five years, I hear. Before he moved in, it was rented by a Mr. Waldron, occupation unknown. The real estate agent still remembers Waldron. He was a tall man with a beard and black face. He disappeared suddenly without any news. And the Presko who was shot dead by Evans T, I heard from the police that his features are very similar to the Waldron above. I think Prescott, who made the counterfeit, lived in the house where Garrideb is now living before he died. Isn't that much clearer? ?”

"Then, we should—"

"Let us rest now, and then—" Holmes handed me a pistol.

"You must be careful with this person. You bring this, I already have one. Let's go to Dongdajie in a while and solve this matter thoroughly."

At four o'clock in the afternoon, we came to No. 136 Lingke Road, East Dajie again.The female worker was about to finish work and go home. After we revealed our identities, she immediately let us in, told us to lock the door after we finished the tour, and then she left.

We heard the door shut and saw her cross the road, and we were alone in the house now.Holmes quickly surveyed the terrain and terrain, and found a hidden place behind a large cupboard, where we were hiding. He whispered to me:
"He made up these lies to get old Mr. Garrideb. He knew the old gentleman was in the room a lot, so he had to make up the story. But he's smart enough to come up with such a big lie. It's so cunning." !"

"What is his purpose? What is his ultimate purpose?"

"I don't think it may have anything to do with old Garrideb. I thought maybe the old gentleman had a valuable collection that interested him, but since the famous counterfeiter lived here, it's not that simple. We Just wait a little longer."

Time is slowly passing, we wait quietly behind the cabinet.After a while, I heard a "bang" and the door was opened. We looked at each other and listened with bated breath.After a sound of keys, the door of the room opened, and the American—"Murderer" Evans came in.We shrank back a little, but our eyes widened even more.When he came in, he closed the door carefully, put his coat aside, and went straight to the big table in the middle of the room.He moved the table away and pulled up a piece of carpet to reveal the wooden floor below. He took out what looked like a small crowbar and pried the floor hard.The wooden board was quickly pried open, and there was a big hole underneath.Evans took out the flashlight again, turned it on, and crawled down the hole.

After seeing his head completely disappear in the hole, we both walked towards the hole lightly.Unfortunately, the floorboards in this room are so old that despite our light footsteps, there was still noise.

The American's head popped out of the hole again, and he saw us immediately, his face changed immediately, and he was about to make a move, but at this moment both Holmes' and I's pistols were aimed at him.

"Okay!" He was rather calm, sneering as he climbed up.

"The two gentlemen with guns are really good. Mr. Holmes, it seems that you have suspected me from the very beginning. It is really hard for you to endure it for so long. I admit it—"

At this moment, I felt a blur in front of my eyes, and before I knew what was going on, I was shot in the thigh, and the burning pain attacked me.It turned out that the "murderer" drew his gun very quickly and fired.Immediately after hearing a "click", this guy's head was hit by Holmes' pistol. I saw a stream of blood flow down his face immediately, and he fell down.But I can't hold it anymore.

At this time a warm and strong arm supported me, and my friend Holmes helped me to a chair and looked at me anxiously.

"How are you, Watson? My God! Damn you for being wounded!"

I saw his eyes were getting wet, and I really felt his sincere friendship at this moment.

"It's okay, I'm a doctor, I know it's just a little skin trauma, don't worry."

"It's okay." He cut open my trousers with a knife, checked the wound carefully, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Turning to the wounded criminal, he said sternly, "If anything happens to Watson, you will never get out of here alive! What are you going to say now?"

Evans sat up, expressionless without saying a word.

I walked with Holmes to the little cellar-like opening, and Holmes shone in with Evans' torch.There were some rusty machines, some small bottles, many bundles of paper, and a table with neat bundles of paper.

"It is, I suppose, a special apparatus for counterfeiting money," said Holmes.

The prisoner said at this time: "Yes, I think you also understand that he is the most famous counterfeiter in London. This is a machine specializing in printing banknotes. There are two thousand hundred-pound banknotes on the table. Although they are counterfeit banknotes, you can't see them." Any loophole, can be used anywhere. How about we make a deal? If you let me go, the money will be yours."

"Do you think we'll agree? Don't be delusional. We're not that kind of people. You kill Prescott."

"This is nothing new, because of this, I was sentenced to five years. He was the first to draw the gun. In addition, killing him is also a disaster for the society. His counterfeit banknotes are exactly the same as banknotes. No one can recognize him. If he hadn't been killed by me, the market would be full of his counterfeit banknotes now. Only I know that this is his lair of counterfeiting banknotes. But when I wanted to get the money, I found that the surname was Garrideb. This old guy didn't leave the room for half a step. What can I do? I had to make up a story to trick him out. If I had known this, it would be better if he shot him. Who would make me soft-hearted? I did not commit any crime this time, Mr. Holmes. I did not remove the machinery, I did not take the banknotes, and I did not injure Mr. Garrideb. Will you let me go?"

"But you hurt Watson, isn't it enough for the crime of intentional homicide? Someone will deal with you, Watson, let's call the police station, they are already waiting."

The story should end here, but there are still a few digressions to explain.Old Mr. Garrideb was a very innocent victim, and it hit him too hard to have a good dream shattered.Unable to withstand the stimulation, he had mental problems and had to be admitted to a nursing home.Many Scotland Yard intelligence officers could now sleep soundly, having been hunting for Prescott's money-printing machine.This is their concern, and counterfeiters are indeed very skilled.They should have thanked Evans, but later the court decided that it was best for the "killer" to stay in prison.Maybe the people at the police station would feel more at ease if he had stayed there.The female corpse near the stone bridge
I have a battered tin filing box that I have been using for years, and it has my name on it: John Watson, M.D., former Army Surgeon in India.The box was kept for safety in the bank vaults of Cox & Co. Ltd., in Charing Street.In fact, there are detailed records of the cases handled by Sherlock Holmes.Most of these cases cannot be told to everyone because although they are thrilling, they are all unsolved cases.For such a case, detective experts are definitely interested, but the recreational public will think it is a boring logic lesson.For example, a well-known reporter suddenly suffered from neurological problems, staring at an ordinary matchbox in a daze. In fact, there was an uncommon nameless bug in it; in addition, after the Alicia small motorboat disappeared in a cloud of fog, there was no news of it. ; Mr. James Phillimore went home to fetch an umbrella, but disappeared like a fairy;Otherwise, the gentlemen and ladies of the upper class will not be at peace.I don't want to be this kind of killer. My friend is studying these cases now, so I also dig out these old goods to sort them out at the same time.There are many files which would be of interest, which could have been published, but which might have discredited a man I admired, so I had to resign them.In some of these cases, I participated in the investigation and can tell the story as a person involved, while in some cases, I asked a little bit, so I can only narrate them objectively.I will tell a story that I witnessed firsthand.

One morning there was a strong wind, and the only leaves of the plane tree in the backyard were also torn off by the wind, but it still stood alone and proudly.When I went downstairs, I thought my friend must be in a bad mood. A person with a very artistic temperament like him will be emotional when he is touched.But I found him very happy.I was very hungry, but he had almost finished his breakfast.

I said, "Mr. Holmes, there must be something that fascinates you."

"It seems that you have an infectious disease and have used my method to explore me. Yes, you are right. After enduring this tedious and suffocating stagnation, it is time for us to start again."

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"Sure. Let's analyze it together first, but you should finish your breakfast first. The new cook boiled the eggs too old. It seems that such a trivial matter as boiling eggs requires a lot of attention to time. This is the same as what I said yesterday in "Family Magazine" The love story told doesn't match."

After more than ten minutes, we sat face to face, and he gave me a letter.

He said, "You know a gold mining magnate named Neil Gibson?"

"Is that the United States Senator?"

"He used to be, but he's famous because he's the biggest gold mine king in the world."

"I've heard that too. He's lived here for a long time. Almost everyone knows about it."

"That's right. He's been living on a farm in Hampshire for five years. You know the circumstances of his wife's murder, too?"

"Oh, yes. That's one of the reasons he's in the spotlight. But that's all I know."

"I didn't expect him to find me. My information is not complete." He showed me a large stack of papers. "Although the case has strong repercussions, the content is clear. Although the defendant is lovable, he cannot hide the solid evidence. The police, the prosecution and the coroner's jury all weighed in on this. The case was a tough one, and it went to Winchester Assizes, and I had a gut feeling that there was something wrong, but there was no surprisingly convincing evidence .If so, my client is not sure of winning."

"Who is your employer?"

"It's over, I forgot to tell you who the client is after all this time? Your flashback habit of telling stories has infected me."

He handed me a bold letter, which read:

Claridge's Hotel, October [-]rd
Dear Mr. Holmes:
I really don't know how to express my feelings.People all over the country know about it. I said that Miss Dunbar is innocent. She is a rare good woman in the world. She would not even trample an ant to death, but no one believed me.The thought of her going to the guillotine for the crime just broke me.I will visit you at eleven o'clock tomorrow, I hope you can help me.As long as I can save her, I can give everything, even my life.God, you use your extraordinary wisdom to save her!
Neil Gibson

"I am expecting this gentleman," said Holmes, pouring out his pipe of ashes, and filling another. "I do not think you will be able to learn all the details of this case in a short time. There are too many newspapers on this subject. Reasoning for you. As far as I know, this man is not only the world's financial overlord, but also the most cruel and cruel monster. Just when his poor wife was in her mid-life, a charming governess was recruited into the family and threatened her. The status of the hostess. It happened in the former political center of England, the old manor house. The case is as follows: the hostess wore a shawl and evening dress, was shot in the head, and fell in the garden half a mile from her home There are indications of murder. It should be noted, Watson, that there are no weapons around. The body was found by the rangers at eleven o'clock in the night, and the doctor and the police also performed an autopsy on the spot. Perhaps this is too simple. I don't know how much you know?"

"The thing is clear, why did the female teacher become a suspect?"

"There is conclusive evidence that she is the murderer. There is a murder pistol on the bottom of her wardrobe," Holmes said, looking straight at her with breathless breath, "on the bottom of her wardrobe." I started to think deeply.I didn't dare to disturb him, and the inspiration activated his brain again.Soon, he came to his senses and said, "Yes, the pistol has been found. The evidence of the crime is conclusive and cannot be denied. Everyone thinks so. There is a letter signed by a female teacher Zhang in the deceased's hand asking her to meet, which is even more evidence of the crime committed by the suspect. Gibson Very attractive, murdering his poor wife, a seductive woman who is greatly favored by Mr. Gibson, will naturally become the mistress of the house, and this is the motive. Terrible, love, money, and power all take it, this conspiracy How vicious!"

"Holmes, your analysis makes sense."

"One fact makes her irrefutable: she had been at Thor's Bridge shortly before the accident—she was seen lingering there. But there is no proof of her whereabouts at the time of the accident."

"It seems that the case can be closed."

"But, Watson, have you noticed where the accident happened? The Bridge of Thor is a wide stone bridge with railings, and under it is the narrowest part of Lake Thor, which is deep in water and has lush reeds on its banks. Oh, someone Here it is, it must be our client, but the time has not come yet."

The name Billy announced was not Gibson, but a stranger—Marlo Bates.This person is nervous, his eyes are in a trance, his movements are flustered, and he is so thin that it is worrying.I really doubt he's going to be mentally ill.

"Mr. Bates, please take a seat," said Holmes. "I don't have long. I have a visitor at eleven."

"I know that," said Bates intermittently, as if choking. "Mr. Gibson, my boss is your employer. Mr. Holmes, I am in charge of the farm. He is Satan reincarnated, a cruel man. Despot."

"Mr. Bates, you speak too strongly."

"I can't restrain my feelings, and please forgive my rashness. His secretary, Mr. Falkerson, only told me this morning that he was coming here, and I hurried. He must not let him know that I am here. I'm leaving."

"You are his housekeeper?"

(End of this chapter)