The Sign of the Four Page 6

  Chapter VI

  Sherlock Holmes Gives a Demonstration

  "Now, Watson," said Holmes, rubbing his hands, "we have half an hour toourselves. Let us make good use of it. My case is, as I have toldyou, almost complete; but we must not err on the side ofover-confidence. Simple as the case seems now, there may be somethingdeeper underlying it."

  "Simple!" I ejaculated.

  "Surely," said he, with something of the air of a clinical professorexpounding to his class. "Just sit in the corner there, that yourfootprints may not complicate matters. Now to work! In the firstplace, how did these folk come, and how did they go? The door has notbeen opened since last night. How of the window?" He carried the lampacross to it, muttering his observations aloud the while, butaddressing them to himself rather than to me. "Window is snibbed onthe inner side. Framework is solid. No hinges at the side. Let usopen it. No water-pipe near. Roof quite out of reach. Yet a man hasmounted by the window. It rained a little last night. Here is theprint of a foot in mould upon the sill. And here is a circular muddymark, and here again upon the floor, and here again by the table. Seehere, Watson! This is really a very pretty demonstration."

  I looked at the round, well-defined muddy discs. "This is not afootmark," said I.

  "It is something much more valuable to us. It is the impression of awooden stump. You see here on the sill is the boot-mark, a heavy bootwith the broad metal heel, and beside it is the mark of the timber-toe."

  "It is the wooden-legged man."

  "Quite so. But there has been some one else,--a very able andefficient ally. Could you scale that wall, doctor?"

  I looked out of the open window. The moon still shone brightly on thatangle of the house. We were a good sixty feet from the ground, and,look where I would, I could see no foothold, nor as much as a crevicein the brick-work.

  "It is absolutely impossible," I answered.

  "Without aid it is so. But suppose you had a friend up here wholowered you this good stout rope which I see in the corner, securingone end of it to this great hook in the wall. Then, I think, if youwere an active man, You might swarm up, wooden leg and all. You woulddepart, of course, in the same fashion, and your ally would draw up therope, untie it from the hook, shut the window, snib it on the inside,and get away in the way that he originally came. As a minor point itmay be noted," he continued, fingering the rope, "that ourwooden-legged friend, though a fair climber, was not a professionalsailor. His hands were far from horny. My lens discloses more thanone blood-mark, especially towards the end of the rope, from which Igather that he slipped down with such velocity that he took the skinoff his hand."

  "This is all very well," said I, "but the thing becomes moreunintelligible than ever. How about this mysterious ally? How came heinto the room?"

  "Yes, the ally!" repeated Holmes, pensively. "There are features ofinterest about this ally. He lifts the case from the regions of thecommonplace. I fancy that this ally breaks fresh ground in the annalsof crime in this country,--though parallel cases suggest themselvesfrom India, and, if my memory serves me, from Senegambia."

  "How came he, then?" I reiterated. "The door is locked, the window isinaccessible. Was it through the chimney?"

  "The grate is much too small," he answered. "I had already consideredthat possibility."

  "How then?" I persisted.

  "You will not apply my precept," he said, shaking his head. "How oftenhave I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossiblewhatever remains, HOWEVER IMPROBABLE, must be the truth? We know thathe did not come through the door, the window, or the chimney. We alsoknow that he could not have been concealed in the room, as there is noconcealment possible. Whence, then, did he come?"

  "He came through the hole in the roof," I cried.

  "Of course he did. He must have done so. If you will have the kindnessto hold the lamp for me, we shall now extend our researches to the roomabove,--the secret room in which the treasure was found."

  He mounted the steps, and, seizing a rafter with either hand, he swunghimself up into the garret. Then, lying on his face, he reached downfor the lamp and held it while I followed him.

  The chamber in which we found ourselves was about ten feet one way andsix the other. The floor was formed by the rafters, with thinlath-and-plaster between, so that in walking one had to step from beamto beam. The roof ran up to an apex, and was evidently the inner shellof the true roof of the house. There was no furniture of any sort, andthe accumulated dust of years lay thick upon the floor.

  "Here you are, you see," said Sherlock Holmes, putting his hand againstthe sloping wall. "This is a trap-door which leads out on to the roof.I can press it back, and here is the roof itself, sloping at a gentleangle. This, then, is the way by which Number One entered. Let us seeif we can find any other traces of his individuality."

  He held down the lamp to the floor, and as he did so I saw for thesecond time that night a startled, surprised look come over his face.For myself, as I followed his gaze my skin was cold under my clothes.The floor was covered thickly with the prints of a naked foot,--clear,well defined, perfectly formed, but scarce half the size of those of anordinary man.

  "Holmes," I said, in a whisper, "a child has done the horrid thing."

  He had recovered his self-possession in an instant. "I was staggeredfor the moment," he said, "but the thing is quite natural. My memoryfailed me, or I should have been able to foretell it. There is nothingmore to be learned here. Let us go down."

  "What is your theory, then, as to those footmarks?" I asked, eagerly,when we had regained the lower room once more.

  "My dear Watson, try a little analysis yourself," said he, with a touchof impatience. "You know my methods. Apply them, and it will beinstructive to compare results."

  "I cannot conceive anything which will cover the facts," I answered.

  "It will be clear enough to you soon," he said, in an off-hand way. "Ithink that there is nothing else of importance here, but I will look."He whipped out his lens and a tape measure, and hurried about the roomon his knees, measuring, comparing, examining, with his long thin noseonly a few inches from the planks, and his beady eyes gleaming anddeep-set like those of a bird. So swift, silent, and furtive were hismovements, like those of a trained blood-hound picking out a scent,that I could not but think what a terrible criminal he would have madehad he turned his energy and sagacity against the law, instead ofexerting them in its defense. As he hunted about, he kept muttering tohimself, and finally he broke out into a loud crow of delight.

  "We are certainly in luck," said he. "We ought to have very littletrouble now. Number One has had the misfortune to tread in thecreosote. You can see the outline of the edge of his small foot hereat the side of this evil-smelling mess. The carboy has been cracked,You see, and the stuff has leaked out."

  "What then?" I asked.

  "Why, we have got him, that's all," said he. "I know a dog that wouldfollow that scent to the world's end. If a pack can track a trailedherring across a shire, how far can a specially-trained hound follow sopungent a smell as this? It sounds like a sum in the rule of three.The answer should give us the--But halloo! here are the accreditedrepresentatives of the law."

  Heavy steps and the clamor of loud voices were audible from below, andthe hall door shut with a loud crash.

  "Before they come," said Holmes, "just put your hand here on this poorfellow's arm, and here on his leg. What do you feel?"

  "The muscles are as hard as a board," I answered.

  "Quite so. They are in a state of extreme contraction, far exceedingthe usual rigor mortis. Coupled with this distortion of the face, thisHippocratic smile, or 'risus sardonicus,' as the old writers called it,what conclusion would it suggest to your mind?"

  "Death from some powerful vegetable alkaloid," I answered,--"somestrychnine-like substance which would produce tetanus."

  "That was the idea which occurred to me the instant I saw the drawnm
uscles of the face. On getting into the room I at once looked for themeans by which the poison had entered the system. As you saw, Idiscovered a thorn which had been driven or shot with no great forceinto the scalp. You observe that the part struck was that which wouldbe turned towards the hole in the ceiling if the man were erect in hischair. Now examine the thorn."

  I took it up gingerly and held it in the light of the lantern. It waslong, sharp, and black, with a glazed look near the point as thoughsome gummy substance had dried upon it. The blunt end had been trimmedand rounded off with a knife.

  "Is that an English thorn?" he asked.

  "No, it certainly is not."

  "With all these data you should be able to draw some just inference.But here are the regulars: so the auxiliary forces may beat a retreat."

  As he spoke, the steps which had been coming nearer sounded loudly onthe passage, and a very stout, portly man in a gray suit strode heavilyinto the room. He was red-faced, burly and plethoric, with a pair ofvery small twinkling eyes which looked keenly out from between swollenand puffy pouches. He was closely followed by an inspector in uniform,and by the still palpitating Thaddeus Sholto.

  "Here's a business!" he cried, in a muffled, husky voice. "Here's apretty business! But who are all these? Why, the house seems to be asfull as a rabbit-warren!"

  "I think you must recollect me, Mr. Athelney Jones," said Holmes,quietly.

  "Why, of course I do!" he wheezed. "It's Mr. Sherlock Holmes, thetheorist. Remember you! I'll never forget how you lectured us all oncauses and inferences and effects in the Bishopgate jewel case. It'strue you set us on the right track; but you'll own now that it was moreby good luck than good guidance."

  "It was a piece of very simple reasoning."

  "Oh, come, now, come! Never be ashamed to own up. But what is allthis? Bad business! Bad business! Stern facts here,--no room fortheories. How lucky that I happened to be out at Norwood over anothercase! I was at the station when the message arrived. What d'you thinkthe man died of?"

  "Oh, this is hardly a case for me to theorize over," said Holmes, dryly.

  "No, no. Still, we can't deny that you hit the nail on the headsometimes. Dear me! Door locked, I understand. Jewels worth half amillion missing. How was the window?"

  "Fastened; but there are steps on the sill."

  "Well, well, if it was fastened the steps could have nothing to do withthe matter. That's common sense. Man might have died in a fit; butthen the jewels are missing. Ha! I have a theory. These flashes comeupon me at times.--Just step outside, sergeant, and you, Mr. Sholto.Your friend can remain.--What do you think of this, Holmes? Sholtowas, on his own confession, with his brother last night. The brotherdied in a fit, on which Sholto walked off with the treasure. How'sthat?"

  "On which the dead man very considerately got up and locked the door onthe inside."

  "Hum! There's a flaw there. Let us apply common sense to the matter.This Thaddeus Sholto WAS with his brother; there WAS a quarrel; so muchwe know. The brother is dead and the jewels are gone. So much also weknow. No one saw the brother from the time Thaddeus left him. His bedhad not been slept in. Thaddeus is evidently in a most disturbed stateof mind. His appearance is--well, not attractive. You see that I amweaving my web round Thaddeus. The net begins to close upon him."

  "You are not quite in possession of the facts yet," said Holmes. "Thissplinter of wood, which I have every reason to believe to be poisoned,was in the man's scalp where you still see the mark; this card,inscribed as you see it, was on the table; and beside it lay thisrather curious stone-headed instrument. How does all that fit intoyour theory?"

  "Confirms it in every respect," said the fat detective, pompously."House is full of Indian curiosities. Thaddeus brought this up, and ifthis splinter be poisonous Thaddeus may as well have made murderous useof it as any other man. The card is some hocus-pocus,--a blind, aslike as not. The only question is, how did he depart? Ah, of course,here is a hole in the roof." With great activity, considering hisbulk, he sprang up the steps and squeezed through into the garret, andimmediately afterwards we heard his exulting voice proclaiming that hehad found the trap-door.

  "He can find something," remarked Holmes, shrugging his shoulders. "Hehas occasional glimmerings of reason. _Il n'y a pas des sots siincommodes que ceux qui ont de l'esprit!_"

  "You see!" said Athelney Jones, reappearing down the steps again."Facts are better than mere theories, after all. My view of the caseis confirmed. There is a trap-door communicating with the roof, and itis partly open."

  "It was I who opened it."

  "Oh, indeed! You did notice it, then?" He seemed a little crestfallenat the discovery. "Well, whoever noticed it, it shows how ourgentleman got away. Inspector!"

  "Yes, sir," from the passage.

  "Ask Mr. Sholto to step this way.--Mr. Sholto, it is my duty to informyou that anything which you may say will be used against you. I arrestyou in the queen's name as being concerned in the death of yourbrother."

  "There, now! Didn't I tell you!" cried the poor little man, throwingout his hands, and looking from one to the other of us.

  "Don't trouble yourself about it, Mr. Sholto," said Holmes. "I thinkthat I can engage to clear you of the charge."

  "Don't promise too much, Mr. Theorist,--don't promise too much!"snapped the detective. "You may find it a harder matter than youthink."

  "Not only will I clear him, Mr. Jones, but I will make you a freepresent of the name and description of one of the two people who werein this room last night. His name, I have every reason to believe, isJonathan Small. He is a poorly-educated man, small, active, with hisright leg off, and wearing a wooden stump which is worn away upon theinner side. His left boot has a coarse, square-toed sole, with an ironband round the heel. He is a middle-aged man, much sunburned, and hasbeen a convict. These few indications may be of some assistance toyou, coupled with the fact that there is a good deal of skin missingfrom the palm of his hand. The other man--"

  "Ah! the other man--?" asked Athelney Jones, in a sneering voice, butimpressed none the less, as I could easily see, by the precision of theother's manner.

  "Is a rather curious person," said Sherlock Holmes, turning upon hisheel. "I hope before very long to be able to introduce you to the pairof them.--A word with you, Watson."

  He led me out to the head of the stair. "This unexpected occurrence,"he said, "has caused us rather to lose sight of the original purpose ofour journey."

  "I have just been thinking so," I answered. "It is not right that MissMorstan should remain in this stricken house."

  "No. You must escort her home. She lives with Mrs. Cecil Forrester,in Lower Camberwell: so it is not very far. I will wait for you hereif you will drive out again. Or perhaps you are too tired?"

  "By no means. I don't think I could rest until I know more of thisfantastic business. I have seen something of the rough side of life,but I give you my word that this quick succession of strange surprisesto-night has shaken my nerve completely. I should like, however, tosee the matter through with you, now that I have got so far."

  "Your presence will be of great service to me," he answered. "We shallwork the case out independently, and leave this fellow Jones to exultover any mare's-nest which he may choose to construct. When you havedropped Miss Morstan I wish you to go on to No. 3 Pinchin Lane, downnear the water's edge at Lambeth. The third house on the right-handside is a bird-stuffer's: Sherman is the name. You will see a weaselholding a young rabbit in the window. Knock old Sherman up, and tellhim, with my compliments, that I want Toby at once. You will bringToby back in the cab with you."

  "A dog, I suppose."

  "Yes,--a queer mongrel, with a most amazing power of scent. I wouldrather have Toby's help than that of the whole detective force ofLondon."

  "I shall bring him, then," said I. "It is one now. I ought to be backbefore three, if I can get a fresh horse."

  "And I," said
Holmes, "shall see what I can learn from Mrs. Bernstone,and from the Indian servant, who, Mr. Thaddeus tell me, sleeps in thenext garret. Then I shall study the great Jones's methods and listento his not too delicate sarcasms. 'Wir sind gewohnt das die Menschenverhoehnen was sie nicht verstehen.' Goethe is always pithy."