Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

THE SIGN OF FOUR: Chapter 6 SHERLOCK HOLMES GIVES A DEMONSTRATION

"NOW, Watson," said Holmes, rubbing his hands, "we have half an hourto ourselves. Let us make good use of it. My case is, as I have told you,almost complete; but we must not err on the side of overconfidence.Simple as the case seems now, there may be something deeper underlyingit.""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 your footprintsmay not complicate matters. Now to work! In the first place, how didthese folk come and how did they go? The door has not been openedsince last night. How of the window?" He carried the lamp across to it,muttering his observations aloud the while but addressing them to himselfrather than to me. "Window is snibbed on the inner side. Frame-work issolid. No hinges at the side. Let us open it. No water-pipe near. Roofquite out of reach. Yet a man has mounted by the window. It rained alittle last night. Here is the print of a foot in mould upon the sill. And hereis a circular muddy mark, and here again upon the floor, and here againby the table. See here, Watson! This is really a very pretty demonstration."I looked at the round, well-defined muddy discs."That is not a foot-mark," 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 a broad metal heel, and beside it is the mark of the timber-toe."[111] "It is the wooden-legged man.""Quite so. But there has been someone else-a very able and efficientally. 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, lookwhere I would, I could see no foothold, nor as much as a crevice in thebrickwork."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, securing oneend of it to this great hook in the wall. Then, I think, if you were an activeman, you might swarm up, wooden leg and all. You would depart, ofcourse, in the same fashion, and your ally would draw up the rope, untie itfrom the hook, shut the window, snib it on the inside, and get away in the way that he originally came. As a minor point, it may be noted," hecontinued, fingering the rope, "that our wooden-legged friend, though afair climber, was not a professional sailor. His hands were far from horny.My lens discloses more than one blood-mark, especially towards the endof the rope, from which I gather that he slipped down with such velocitythat he took the skin off his hands.""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 annals ofcrime in this country-though parallel cases suggest themselves from Indiaand, 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 impossible,whatever 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. When, 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 down forthe lamp and held it while I followed him.The chamber in which we found ourselves was about ten feet one wayand six the other. The floor was formed by the rafters, with thin lath andplaster between, so that in walking one had to step from beam to beam.The roof ran up to an apex and was evidently the inner shell of the trueroof of the house. There was no furniture of any sort, and the accumulateddust of years lay thick upon the floor."Here you are, you see," said Sherlock Holmes, putting his handagainst the [112] sloping wall. "This is a trapdoor which leads out on tothe 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 see ifwe can find some 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. Formyself, as I followed his gaze, my skin was cold under my clothes. Thefloor was covered thickly with the prints of a naked foot-clear, welldefined, perfectly formed, but scarce half the size of those of an ordinaryman."Holmes," I said in a whisper, "a child has done this horrid thing."He had recovered his self-possession in an instant."I was staggered for the moment," he said, "but the thing is quitenatural. My memory failed me, or I should have been able to foretell it.There is nothing more to be learned here. Let us go down.""What is your theory, then, as to those footmarks?" I asked eagerlywhen we had regained the lower room once more."My dear Watson, try a little analysis yourself," said he with a touch ofimpatience. "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 offhand 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 and deepset like those of a bird. So swift, silent, and furtive were his movements,like those of a trained bloodhound picking out a scent, that I could not butthink what a terrible criminal he would have made had he turned hisenergy and sagacity against the law instead of exerting them in itsdefence. As he hunted about, he kept muttering to himself, and finally hebroke 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 the creosote.You can see the outline of the edge of his small foot here at the side of this evil-smelling mess. The carboy has been cracked, you see, and thestuff has leaked out.""What then?" I asked."Why, we have got him, that's all," said he."I know a dog that would follow that scent to the world's end. If a packcan track a trailed herring across a shire, how far can a specially trainedhound follow so pungent a smell as this? It sounds like a sum in the ruleof three. The answer should give us the- - But hallo! here are theaccredited representatives of the law."Heavy steps and the clamour of loud voices were audible from below,and the 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 exceeding theusual rigor mortis. Coupled with this distortion of the face, thisHippocratic smile, or 'risus sardonicus,' as the old writers called it, whatconclusion would it suggest to your mind?"[113] "Death from some powerful vegetable alkaloid," I answered,"some strychnine-like substance which would produce tetanus.""That was the idea which occurred to me the instant I saw the drawnmuscles 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 force intothe scalp. You observe that the part struck was that which would beturned towards the hole in the ceiling if the man were erect in his chair.Now examine this thorn."I took it up gingerly and held it in the light of the lantern. It was long,sharp, and black, with a glazed look near the point as though somegummy substance had dried upon it. The blunt end had been trimmed androunded 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 loudlyon the 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 of verysmall twinkling eyes which looked keenly out from between swollen andpuffy pouches. He was closely followed by an inspector in uniform andby 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 as fullas a rabbit-warren!""I think you must recollect me, Mr. Athelney Jones," said Holmesquietly."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's true you set us on the right track; but you'll own now that it was more by goodluck 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 for theories.How lucky that I happened to be out at Norwood over another case! I wasat the station when the message arrived. What d'you think the man diedof?""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; but thenthe jewels are missing. Ha! I have a theory. These flashes come upon meat times.- Just step outside, Sergeant, and you, Mr. Sholto. Your friendcan remain.- What do you think of this, Holmes? Sholto was, on his ownconfession, with his brother last night. The brother died in a fit, on whichSholto walked off with the treasure? How's that?""On which the dead man very considerately got up and locked the dooron the 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. [114] The brother is dead and the jewels are gone. So much alsowe know. No one saw the brother from the time Thaddeus left him. Hisbed had 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 asyou see it, was on the table, and beside it lay this rather curious stoneheaded instrument. How does all that fit into your theory?""Confirms it in every respect," said the fat detective pompously."House is full of Indian curiosities. Thaddeus brought this up, and if thissplinter be poisonous Thaddeus may as well have made murderous use ofit as any other man. The card is some hocus-pocus-a blind, as like as not.The only question is, how did he depart? Ah, of course, here is a hole inthe roof."With great activity, considering his bulk, he sprang up the steps andsqueezed through into the garret, and immediately afterwards we heardhis exulting voice proclaiming that he had found the trapdoor."He can find something," remarked Holmes, shrugging his shoulders;"he has 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 theories, after all. My view of the case is confirmed.There is a trapdoor communicating with the roof, and it is partly open." "It was I who opened it.""Oh, indeed! You did notice it, then?" He seemed a little crestfallen atthe discovery. "Well, whoever noticed it, it shows how our gentleman gotaway. 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 your brother.""There, now! Didn't I tell you!" cried the poor little man, throwing outhis hands and looking from one to the other of us."Don't trouble yourself about it, Mr. Sholto," said Holmes; "I think thatI 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 you think.""Not only will I clear him, Mr. Jones, but I will make you a free presentof the name and description of one of the two people who were in thisroom last night. His name, I have every reason to believe, is JonathanSmall. He is a poorly educated man, small, active, with his right leg off,and wearing a wooden stump which is worn away upon the inner side.His left boot has a coarse, square-toed sole, with an iron band round theheel. He is a middle-aged man, much sunburned, and has been a convict.These few indications may be of some assistance to you, coupled with thefact that there is a good deal of skin missing from 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.[115] "Is a rather curious person," said Sherlock Holmes, turning uponhis heel. "I hope before very long to be able to introduce you to the pair ofthem. 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 of our 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 inLower Camberwell, so it is not very far. I will wait for you here if youwill 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 Igive you my word that this quick succession of strange surprises to-nighthas shaken my nerve completely. I should like, however, to see the matterthrough 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 exult overany 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-hand sideis a bird-stuffer's; Sherman is the name. You will see a weasel holding ayoung rabbit in the window. Knock old Sherman up and tell him, with mycompliments, that I want Toby at once. You will bring Toby back in thecab 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 of London.""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. Bernstoneand from the Indian servant, who, Mr. Thaddeus tells me, sleeps in thenext garret. Then I shall study the great Jones's methods and listen to hisnot too delicate sarcasms."'Wir sind gewohnt, daß die Menschen verhöhnen was sie nichtverstehen.'"Goethe is always pithy."