Sherlock Holmes Complete Works 2

Chapter 30 Return 6
He led us down the hall, into a dark hall beyond.

"Young McFarlane took his hat after he committed the crime," he said, "and now you see this." He struck a match suddenly and dramatically, illuminating a spot of blood on the whitewashed wall.It was a thumb print that was very clearly marked with blood.

"Get out your magnifying glass, Mr. Holmes."

"I'm watching." My companion was very patient.

"There is no doubt that no two thumbprints are exactly alike."

"I've heard that too."

"Now compare the print on the wall with the wax print taken this morning from McFarlane's right thumb." He held up the wax print against the blood.Even without a magnifying glass, we can assert that two fingerprints are from the same thumb.

"There is no doubt about it," said Remired.

"I totally agree." I couldn't help but echo him.

"Is that so?" said Holmes, with something evident in his tone, and I turned to look at him in surprise.His expression obviously changed, and his face twitched uncontrollably with secret delight.

"Hey! Hey!" He finally spoke again, "No one would have thought that he really knows people and faces but doesn't know his heart! He looks like such a good young man! This incident left us with a lesson: we should not blindly trust ourselves eyes. Raymond, eh?"

"Exactly, some of us are really overconfident," Remired said.

"God purposely made the young man take his hat off the peg, and then pressed his right thumb on the wall." Holmes pretended to be calm on the surface, but his whole body was trembling with excitement.

"Can you tell me who found it?"

"Mrs. Luxington, the housekeeper, told the Night Sergeant."

"Where was he?"

"Stay in the bedroom at the scene of the incident and guard the contents."

"Didn't you find any blood in the inspection yesterday?"

"Of course, why should we have to examine this inconspicuous hall?"

"Yes, inconspicuously. I suppose the blood was on the wall yesterday?"

Remy Reid looked at Holmes in surprise, as if he was wondering: Is this man crazy.I confess that I was astonished at my companion's cheerfulness and free speech.

"Could it be that McFarlane sneaked out of the prison late at night in order to increase the evidence," Remy Reid said, "I can ask any expert in the world to identify whether these are his fingerprints."

"This is his thumbprint."

"That's all right," said Ray Mirett. "I'm a man of facts, Mr. Holmes, and I judge only when the evidence is sufficient. If you have anything to say, please come to me in the living room." , I want to write my report there."

Although Holmes returned to his normal self, his expression still suggested that he felt absurd at heart.

"Things seem to be going very badly, don't they, Watson? But there is a subtlety here which may give the young man a glimmer of hope."

"I'm glad you can say that," I said from the bottom of my heart. "Just now I thought there was no hope for him."

"I do not like to say such things, my dear Watson. There is, in fact, a very serious defect in the evidence which our friend attaches so much importance to."

"Really? What defect?"

"The defect is that when I examined the hall yesterday, I did not find any traces of blood on the walls. Now, Watson, let us go for a walk outside."

We walked in the garden, and my mind was confused, but my heart was beginning to warm with new hope.Holmes looked at each side of the villa in turn with interest.Then he took me into the house, from the basement to the attic, and he looked all over the building again.Most of the rooms were unfurnished, but he examined them carefully nonetheless.At last Holmes brightened up as he reached the top corridor, where the three spare bedrooms were located.

"There is indeed something remarkable about this case, Watson," said he. "I think it is time to speak to Remired. He laughed at us, and perhaps we may pay him back now, but in the When my judgment on the case is proved to be correct. I have already thought of a way."

The Scotland Yard sergeant was writing his report with great enthusiasm when my companion entered the living room.

"You are writing your report on the case."

"Yes, I am writing."

"It's still too early, I always feel that your evidence is not enough."

Raymond knew my friend well enough not to ignore his words.He immediately put down his pen and looked at Holmes.

"What's the meaning?"

"I think there is one witness of considerable importance that you need to see."

"Can you bring him up?"

"can."

"Then hurry up."

"Yes. How many policemen do you have now?"

"Can summon three at once."

"Very well!" said Holmes. "Are they all the big, loud-voiced kind?"

"Of course, but do their voices have anything to do with the case?"

"You will understand in a moment," said Holmes. "Please call your sergeant, and I must try."

After a while, three police officers had assembled in the hall.

"There is a heap of straw in the shed outside," said Holmes. "Bring in two bales. Thank you all three. I suppose you have matches in your pocket, Watson. Now let us go to the landing of the top staircase."

As I have already said, there was a wide corridor from the three empty bedrooms.We were led by Holmes to one end of the corridor.The three sergeants grinned; Remy Read looked at my friend with alternate expressions of surprise, anticipation, and sarcasm on his face.

"Send a policeman to fetch two pails of water, and put the two bales of straw here, away from the wall. I see everything is ready now."

Ray Mired was obviously very angry, his face was flushed with anger.

"No jesting, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said he, "you may well tell what you know. It would be absurd to do so."

"My dear Raymond, I have a good reason for everything I do. You may remember that you played a little trick on me a few hours ago, and now you let me show off a little too. Now, Watson, open the window first, and light the straw, will you?"

After a while, the dry straw crackled and burned, and the flames soared into the sky, and a puff of white smoke was blown by the draft and lingered in the corridor.

"Now let's get the witnesses out, Raymond. Let's yell 'Fire,' shall we? Come on, one, two, three—"

"The house is on fire!" we all shouted in unison.

"Please do it again."

"It's on fire!"

"One more time, all in unison."

"It's on fire!" This sound was probably heard by everyone in the whole region.

With the shout, an amazing thing happened suddenly.A door in the seemingly unbroken wall at the end of the corridor was flung open, and through it burst a man, small and thin, almost as though a rabbit had popped out of its burrow.

"Very good!" said my companion calmly. "Watson, pour a pail of water over the straw. Let me introduce you, Remired, the chief witness in your case of disappearance, Mr. Oldecke."

Looking at this stranger, Remy Red was obviously very surprised.Oldek blinked incessantly at the light in the hallway.He looked from us to the still smoking fire.It was a very hideous face, cunning, evil, and ferocious.The eyes were light gray and suspicious.

"What happened?" Remy Red finally recovered, "What have you been doing these days?"

Watching the detective throw a tantrum, Oldek smiled primly.

"I... I didn't hurt anyone at all."

"No harm really? You almost sent an innocent man to the gallows. Without this gentleman, the consequences would be disastrous."

So Oldek began to cry.

"Sir, to be honest, I really didn't mean any harm, I just made a little joke."

"Ah! Is this a joke too? Take him down and lock him in the living room."

After Oldek was taken away by three police officers, Remy Read continued: "Mr. Holmes, I am embarrassed to say this in front of my subordinates, but in front of Watson, I have to admit that you really did another thing." Excellent job. Although I am still a little baffled and baffled. An innocent life was saved by you, and my reputation in the police industry has been preserved."

Holmes patted the police officer on the shoulder and said with a smile: "Not only will it not damage your reputation, but it will boost your reputation. You only need to modify your report a little bit, and they will think that Officer Raymond is really sharp." .”

"Would you like your name to appear on the report?"

"No, work is my only reward. When the eager historian took up his pen again with my permission, perhaps I was praised. Was it not, Watson? Well, now let us see Let's take a look at the treasure hole where this big rat hides."

A closet had been walled off with plastered laths six feet from the end of this passage, and a secret door had been fitted in the partition.The hut is illuminated by a little light coming through the gaps in the eaves. A few pieces of furniture are placed inside, as well as food and water, as well as some books and newspapers.

As we walked out, Holmes said: "The architect's advantage is that he can prepare a secret room for himself. Of course, the housekeeper knows about it."

"I agree with your opinion, but Mr. Holmes, how do you know about this secret room?"

"I was first sure he was hiding in the house. When I first walked into this hallway, the same hallway downstairs was 6 feet longer than it, so that told us where he was hiding. I'm sure He doesn't have the courage not to come out in front of the fire. Of course we can just go in and catch him out, but I still think it's more interesting to let him come out on his own initiative? Besides, Mr. Police Officer, I should pay you back for treating me like that this morning. Just a moment, right?"

"Yes, sir, you have taken revenge on me. What made you know that he was still in the house?"

"That newly discovered thumbprint, Mr. Remy Reid. You said it was decisive at the time. In the completely opposite understanding, it is really decisive. The day before yesterday, there was no such fingerprint there. I Checked the hall. In this way, it can be concluded that the fingerprints were pressed secretly later at night."

"But how did you press it?"

"It wasn't difficult. There were packets of papers that were sealed with wax that night. Oldeck had McFarlane press his thumb on the wax on one of the envelopes to make it stick. It happened very quickly. Anyway, it didn't occur to the old man to make use of it at the time. It occurred to him in the closet. He took a wax mold from the wax seal and painted it with enough blood to press himself or the housekeeper against the wall at night. Come on. No trouble. You'll be sure to find that fingerprinted seal among the papers he brought into the back room."

"That's wonderful," said Remired. "But what's the purpose of this deception, sir?"

The arrogant detective suddenly becomes like a child asking a teacher a question.

"It's not difficult. You should know that McFarlane's mother had rejected his marriage proposal before, and this emotional injury made him resentful, and he was always looking for revenge, but he was suffering from no chance. The recent failure of speculative business made him Dangerous position. To deceive his creditors, he wrote large checks to Mr. Cornelius who was himself. I'm sure the checks were deposited in that name in a small town bank out of town where the old man used to go A dual life. However, he would eventually change his name, withdraw the money, and start a new life elsewhere."

"Yes, it is entirely possible."

"He figured that if he could make a false case that he was murdered by his old lover's only son, then he could get away with it and get revenge on his old lover at the same time. In order to make up an obvious motive, he wrote the will and had McFarlane recite it. He had his parents come to see him, and arranged everything. It's just that he didn't do it, and it didn't work out. Let's go downstairs, sir, and I've got a question or two for Oldeker."

Oldek sat in the living room, guarded by a policeman on either side.

"That was only a joke," he whimpered. "I can assure you, sir, that I hid myself just to see the effect of my disappearance. I know you don't think I'll really let Mr. McFarlane Get hurt."

"It depends on the attitude of the jury," said Ray Mired, "but if we can't charge you with attempted murder, we're going to charge you with conspiracy."

"You will see right away that the creditors are asking the bank to freeze Mr. Cornelias' deposits," said Holmes.

Oldek stared at my companion in surprise and savagery.

"Perhaps one day I will repay your kindness," he said.

Holmes paid no attention.

"But you'll have time for other things a few years from now," he said. "What interests me right now is what did you throw in the lumber pile besides your trousers? A dead dog? Rabbits? I think two rabbits would explain the blood and charred ashes. Watson, if you want to write a story about what happened, say rabbits."

(End of this chapter)