Sherlock Holmes.

Chapter 6 The Tracking of Blood Letters (5)
"'About eleven o'clock.'

"'So your son was out for at least two hours.'

"'right.'

"'Is there any possibility of going out for four or five hours?'

"'Also a possibility.'

"'So, what has he been up to lately?'

"'I don't know, sir,' she said tremulously.

"Actually, it was so obvious that there was no need to say anything. Then we arrested Charpentier. He yelled at us: 'Why did you arrest me? I didn't kill Draper.' 300 taels of silver, he said it himself."

"It is doubtful indeed," said Holmes.

"When we caught him, he had a stick in his hand, the same stick that hit Draper with."

"So, how do you feel about this?"

"I think he chased Draper all the way to Brixton Road and when he got there they fought. He clubbed Draper in the heart so Draper was dead but There were no injuries on the body. Because of the heavy rain that day, Charpentier was not seen when he dragged the body to the empty house. Everything we saw at the scene was nothing but a trap set by the murderer."

"You are simply marvelous, and you have a bright future," said Holmes, with a touch of sarcasm.

"I think it's okay, and it's going faster. However, Charpentier argued that he was caught while chasing Draper, so he took a car back. On the way, he happened to meet an acquaintance, We talked for a long time with this acquaintance. But when we asked him the acquaintance's address, he couldn't tell. I think the facts of the case are relatively consistent. Poor Lethred is probably still I'm going the wrong way." Just as he was speaking, Lethred also walked in.I saw his dejected face, listless, and lost his usual demeanor.It's almost unbelievable, this is Lethred.

It seemed that he was running for Holmes.Lethrider looked uncomfortable when he saw Grayson there.He stood in the middle of the room fiddling with his hat, saying, "This case is a real headache."

Grayson still asked aggressively: "Mr. Lethred, do you really think so? Have you found that Stangerson?"

Lesred said with a heavy heart: "That Stangerson, he was murdered at six o'clock this morning." The real murderer
The news that Lesred brought was really a blow to the head, and no one expected it.Everyone looked at each other and said nothing.Grayson stood up abruptly and accidentally knocked over his wine glass.I glanced at Holmes. He was frowning, biting his teeth, apparently lost in thought again, and said to himself: "Stangerson is killed, and the case will be even more difficult to solve."

Lethred moved to a chair and sat down. "This case is so complicated that I'm really confused."

Grayson asked suspiciously, "Is this news reliable?"

"I just came from him, how can I be unreliable?" Lethred said impatiently.

"We have heard Gregson's opinion on the case. Can you share your thoughts?" asked Holmes tentatively.

"Why not? First of all, I admit that everything I have done before is in vain, because Draper's death has nothing to do with Stangerson. It turned out that I wanted to look up Stangerson. Someone had seen Stangerson and Drey Draper was waiting at the station. But Draper's body was found on Brixton Road at two o'clock the next morning. I thought it would be nice to know what Stangerson was up to before the murder Afterwards I wired Liverpool to watch the American ships, and I checked the flats near Euston Station. I think Stangerson must be staying at a nearby hotel to wait for Draper."

"It is possible that they have already agreed to meet," said Holmes.

"That's the truth. I searched all day yesterday and found nothing. I came to the Holliday Hotel after eight o'clock this morning and asked if Stangerson lived here, and they said yes.

"The guy said he's been here for two days, 'he must be waiting for you?'

"'And what room is he in?' I asked eagerly.

"'He was sleeping, and before he went to bed he told me to wake him up at nine o'clock.'

"'I want to see him at once,' I said.

"I think once I appear in front of him, he will be at a loss. What kind of reaction will he make? An old man took me to his room, and I suddenly saw a bloodstain flowing from the door. There was a puddle at the foot of the wall. At that time, the only feeling I had was nausea. The old man saw it at this time and screamed. I motioned him to calm down, and then we walked over to check. The door was locked, and we bumped into it. After a few clicks, the door opened. There was a body next to the window, which was still open. The old man immediately recognized him as Stangerson. He was curled up in his pajamas when he died. I hurriedly checked his injuries. His body There's a deep gash on the left side, and guess what's on his face?"

"It's 'Lache' in blood," Holmes said.

And I was horrified.

"Yes, those two words."

Everyone was completely lost in thought.

The murderer has arranged everything, but it is elusive, which makes the atmosphere more tense and suffocating.I have always been strong even on the battlefield full of corpses, but this strange case really frightened me a little.

"There was a little milkman who saw the murderer. As he passed the hotel, he saw a ladder on a window on the third floor, and the window was open. The child felt a little strange, because the ladder was usually No, so I took another look. I saw a person slowly climbing down from the ladder. The boy wondered why the carpenter in the hotel had been working so early. He vaguely remembered that it was a tall man, wearing a A brown coat, red face. We also found blood in the washbasin in that room, and a blood stain on the bed sheet. It can be seen that he washed his hands after the murder and wiped the knife with the bed sheet."

Ah, what he said was exactly what Holmes had surmised that day.But I didn't see his excitement.

"What else have you discovered?" asked Holmes.

"No, only a Draper's purse and a telegram were found on him. There were only more than 80 pounds in cash. The telegram was taken from the city of Cleveland a month ago.

"The content is fairly simple: 'JH is now in Europe'."

"Is there anything else?" asked Holmes.

"Nothing could be more telling. There is a novel on the bed, a pipe on the chair, a glass of water on the table, and a wooden box with two pills on the windowsill."

Holmes suddenly jumped up and down. "Okay, it's finally solved, my inference has been confirmed!"

Grayson and Lethred looked dumbfounded.

"I have grasped all the clues, but some small details are not clear, and everything is clear." Holmes said without any concealment.

"Next, just look at mine. Have you brought those two pills?"

"Brought," Lesred said, handing over the little white box, "I meant to keep these things in the police station for safekeeping, but I brought them anyway. I don't think they're very important, though." .”

Holmes pointed to the pill and said to me: "Doctor, do you see any special features between these two pills?"

I took a closer look at the two pills and felt that they were indeed unusual.I said, "It may be easily soluble in water, as can be seen from its transparency."

Holmes said happily: "Bring the dog downstairs. The landlady doesn't want it long ago, so it won't suffer."

I picked up the dog from downstairs, and the poor puppy became a victim.

Holmes cut a pill in half with a knife, and put the half in the glass.After adding water, the medicine will dissolve soon.

Lesred thought Holmes was mocking him, and said, "That's really interesting. What does this pill have to do with the dead?"

"Mr. Lethreid, why are you in such a hurry? I'll let you know right away." Then Holmes added more milk to the glass, and served it to the poor dog.

The poor puppy licked it without smelling it.Everyone watched the dog carefully, wondering how it would react.Minutes passed, and the dog lay there shaking its head and wagging its tail, as if the half-pill hadn't done anything to it.

From the very beginning Holmes had counted the time, but still nothing happened for a long time.I saw him biting his lower lip with his teeth and rubbing his hands together, seeming a little disappointed and helpless.But the two detectives were beaming with joy, looking proud.

Holmes finally couldn't hold back his emotions, and started pacing up and down the room. "It's not a coincidence, because Draper died of poisoning from a drug which was discovered after Stangerson's death. But why didn't it work? Why is that? I believe, and I'm very interested in the case. The conjecture must be correct, but the dog does not respond. Oh, I see! I see at last!" cried Holmes, ran to the box, took out another pill, and repeated the same thing. .The poor little dog couldn't stand the temptation, so he ran over again.As soon as its tongue touched the milk, it fell on its head, its limbs began to twitch, and it lay dead stiff.Holmes finally breathed a sigh of relief, wiped his sweat and said: "It seems that my self-confidence is not strong enough. I should have thought just now that if a situation contradicts the inference, there must be other reasons. More precisely , as soon as I saw these two pills, I should have thought that one was highly poisonous and the other was not.”

Holmes was talking to himself, although others could not hear what he was talking about, but the death of the dog confirmed his deduction.I'm also starting to get a little feel for the case.

"Do you think it's strange? It's actually not surprising, because from the beginning I caught the only correct clue, and everything that happened afterwards confirmed my speculation. Many seemingly confusing and complicated situations are actually They are all confirming my initial hypothesis step by step. Mystery and strangeness are two concepts. Sometimes the most common and ordinary crimes are the most mysterious, because it will make you nowhere to go. If the body in this case is found on the road, and there is no With so many unusual and special circumstances like now, the case will not go so smoothly. In fact, strange things are not strange, but make the case clearer."

Grayson grew impatient.He said: "You are a witty and capable detective with your own unique working methods. We all know this, but please put aside these big principles for a while, the most important thing is how to catch the murderer. We admit that we The way of thinking is wrong, but you can talk about it, and if you know more than us, then quickly talk about the substance. We are the police, and we have the right to ask you to say that you know who the murderer is ?"

Lesred agreed, "Yes, we both tried and failed. You always say you have the whole case, so you should hurry up and tell me what you know!"

I said, "If the murderer is not caught quickly, there may be more accidents."

Everyone talked to each other, but Holmes fell silent.He paced back and forth in the room, frowning tightly, as if he was thinking about something again.

"I don't think anything like this will ever happen again. Don't worry! It certainly won't. What good is it if I know the murderer's name? The only thing we want is to catch him. I reckon I'll be able to Catch him, but this matter does not need anyone to intervene, I have to arrange it myself. Because he is a cunning and capable person, so we must be cautious, not sloppy, let alone let the murderer know that we have obtained clues .If he finds out, he will change his name and disappear forever, making it harder for us to catch him. I don't mean to underestimate the police, but I do think you are no match for him, so I don't want to ask you for help. If I fail I will bear all the consequences by myself. I will make it clear to everyone when it does not affect my implementation of the plan." Grayson and Lesred were obviously very dissatisfied with Holmes' words, and Gray Sen was flushed with anger, not to mention Lethred.However, before the two had time to break out, someone knocked on the door and a waif came in - Little Wiggins.

Wiggins saluted and said, "Sir, the carriage has already arrived, so it will stop below."

"Good boy," said Holmes gently. "Why don't you Scotland Yard use these handcuffs? You see, they are so easy to use. You can put them on as soon as you touch them." As he spoke, he took out a pair of shiny handcuffs from the drawer. .

Lesred said angrily: "As long as we can catch people, what kind of handcuffs are the same?"

"Hahaha, Wiggins, it's best to let the coachman help me carry the box." He said with a smile.

I couldn't understand what he was saying at all, but judging by the way he was going about it, it looked like he was going to travel.He never mentioned it.While Holmes was fastening the straps of his trunk, the coachman entered.

"Please, coachman, help me to load this into the carriage!" said Holmes without looking back.

The coachman didn't seem to be happy. Just as he stretched out his hands to carry the box, there was a sound of handcuffs, and Holmes jumped up.

"Gentlemen, this is the murderer of Draper and Stangerson—Mr. Jefferson Hope," he said grandly.

It just happened in an instant, so suddenly.Holmes' joyful look of victory and the ugly face of the coachman because of the accident are still unforgettable to me.

I watched this scene in bewilderment. The coachman suddenly came to his senses. He struggled to break away from Holmes and rushed to the window.Suddenly, crackling, the glass was shattered, and he wanted to escape by force.Grayson, Lethred, and Holmes rushed over almost simultaneously, and grabbed the murderer.The man was so fierce that the four of us were a little bit overwhelmed by him.Facing such a fierce opponent, we finally had to tie his hands and feet with ropes, and then we took a breath.

"It is a most wonderful story! But it is time to conclude. If you still have questions, gentlemen, please feel free to ask them, and I will give you a satisfactory answer," cried Holmes, breathlessly.We then drove him back to Scotland Yard in the murderer's carriage.desert trapped

The western part of the North American continent is a desolate area.How many years have passed, and this place is still a barren place.Almost nothing grows from the Sierra Nevada to the Nebraska, from the Yellowstone River in the north to Colorado in the south.But the scenery in the desert area is very special. There are snow-capped mountains, deep and dark grand canyons, and endless rivers.On the endless wasteland, there is snow all over the fields in winter, and the sky is full of salt and alkali in summer.In short, it is always deadly silent, and even the birds don't want to pass by.Only the Pawnee and Blackfoot Indian tribes occasionally leave footprints when they go to other hunting areas.

No one wants to stay for a while longer. In this lifeless land, there are only the sound of the rushing water and the one or two chirps that cut through the sky left by the giant eagles circling in the air.

The most desolate and desolate place in the world is the northern foothills of the Sierra Blanca.As far as the eye can see, there are patches of brick-red land separated by dwarf oak forests everywhere.The snow-capped peaks are the only beauty here.In this lifeless land, the dim sky and earth were as deadly silent, and even the air seemed to be about to condense.

Of course, it would be an exaggeration to say that there is no sign of life in such a vast desert.Looking down from Monte Blanca, there is a path that runs through the desert to the end of the horizon.Countless adventurers have walked this path, and perhaps countless wheels have also rolled over it.There are piles of white things everywhere on the side of the road, which are extraordinarily dazzling under the sun.When you get closer, you can see that they are all terrible bones.It is on such a long road that future generations must step forward on the remains of their predecessors.

On May 1847, 5, a lonely traveler was watching all this from the hill of Blanca.He held a rifle in his hand, used it as a crutch, and looked beyond his age at all, like a ghostly elf.He was very thin, grizzled, with sunken eye sockets, and his eyes were completely lifeless, but from the bones, he should have been a very strong man.Only now his clothes looked fatter and fatter—he was dying of hunger and thirst.

He was hungry and thirsty.His last ray of hope, after all the arduous trek to this plateau, was gone.All you can see are barren hills and piles of bones, not even a single tree, let alone water.He looked around with wide-set eyes, but was soon utterly hopeless.He realized that his life might be over soon, so he murmured to himself, comforting himself that it was no different from dying on a comfortable bed.

Putting down the rifle, he sat down on his buttocks, and the burden wrapped in the gray shawl on his left shoulder also slipped down and fell heavily on the ground.Then there was a cry from inside the bundle, and a frightened face with shining brown eyes appeared, and two little hands stretched out.

A clear and clear child's voice complained, "Why are you doing this?"

"It hurts from the fall! I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose." As he said that, he untied his bag, and a beautiful little girl sat up, about five or six years old, and her pink blouse looked extraordinarily dazzling.She was wearing a pair of exquisite shoes and a linen bib. From the clothes she wore, her mother must be an ingenious mother.The child's face was a little pale, but his arms and legs were strong, and he didn't look like he had suffered too much.

"Does it still hurt now?" He asked with concern, the little girl was still covering the back of her head with her little hand.

"If you kiss here, maybe it won't hurt. Mom usually does this. By the way, where is my mother?"

"Your mother is gone."

"Where did she go? Why didn't she say goodbye to me? But before, no matter where my mother went, she always said goodbye to me." The little girl asked puzzledly, "Hey, do you feel thirsty too? What? Is there nothing here?"

(End of this chapter)