Adventure VI. The Reigate Puzzle
It was some time before the health of my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmesrecovered from the strain caused by his immense exertions in the springof '87. The whole question of the Netherland-Sumatra Company and of thecolossal schemes of Baron Maupertuis are too recent in the minds of thepublic, and are too intimately concerned with politics and finance to befitting subjects for this series of sketches. They led, however, in anindirect fashion to a singular and complex problem which gave my friendan opportunity of demonstrating the value of a fresh weapon among themany with which he waged his life-long battle against crime.
On referring to my notes I see that it was upon the 14th of April thatI received a telegram from Lyons which informed me that Holmes waslying ill in the Hotel Dulong. Within twenty-four hours I was in hissick-room, and was relieved to find that there was nothing formidable inhis symptoms. Even his iron constitution, however, had broken downunder the strain of an investigation which had extended over two months,during which period he had never worked less than fifteen hours a day,and had more than once, as he assured me, kept to his task for five daysat a stretch. Even the triumphant issue of his labors could not save himfrom reaction after so terrible an exertion, and at a time when Europewas ringing with his name and when his room was literally ankle-deepwith congratulatory telegrams I found him a prey to the blackestdepression. Even the knowledge that he had succeeded where the police ofthree countries had failed, and that he had outmanoeuvred at every pointthe most accomplished swindler in Europe, was insufficient to rouse himfrom his nervous prostration.
Three days later we were back in Baker Street together; but it wasevident that my friend would be much the better for a change, and thethought of a week of spring time in the country was full of attractionsto me also. My old friend, Colonel Hayter, who had come under myprofessional care in Afghanistan, had now taken a house near Reigate inSurrey, and had frequently asked me to come down to him upon a visit. Onthe last occasion he had remarked that if my friend would only comewith me he would be glad to extend his hospitality to him also. A littlediplomacy was needed, but when Holmes understood that the establishmentwas a bachelor one, and that he would be allowed the fullest freedom,he fell in with my plans and a week after our return from Lyons we wereunder the Colonel's roof. Hayter was a fine old soldier who had seenmuch of the world, and he soon found, as I had expected, that Holmes andhe had much in common.
On the evening of our arrival we were sitting in the Colonel's gun-roomafter dinner, Holmes stretched upon the sofa, while Hayter and I lookedover his little armory of Eastern weapons.
"By the way," said he suddenly, "I think I'll take one of these pistolsupstairs with me in case we have an alarm."
"An alarm!" said I.
"Yes, we've had a scare in this part lately. Old Acton, who is one ofour county magnates, had his house broken into last Monday. No greatdamage done, but the fellows are still at large."
"No clue?" asked Holmes, cocking his eye at the Colonel.
"None as yet. But the affair is a petty one, one of our little countrycrimes, which must seem too small for your attention, Mr. Holmes, afterthis great international affair."
Holmes waved away the compliment, though his smile showed that it hadpleased him.
"Was there any feature of interest?"
"I fancy not. The thieves ransacked the library and got very little fortheir pains. The whole place was turned upside down, drawers burst open,and presses ransacked, with the result that an odd volume of Pope's'Homer,' two plated candlesticks, an ivory letter-weight, a small oakbarometer, and a ball of twine are all that have vanished."
"What an extraordinary assortment!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, the fellows evidently grabbed hold of everything they could get."
Holmes grunted from the sofa.
"The county police ought to make something of that," said he; "why, itis surely obvious that--"
But I held up a warning finger.
"You are here for a rest, my dear fellow. For Heaven's sake don't getstarted on a new problem when your nerves are all in shreds."
Holmes shrugged his shoulders with a glance of comic resignation towardsthe Colonel, and the talk drifted away into less dangerous channels.
It was destined, however, that all my professional caution should bewasted, for next morning the problem obtruded itself upon us in such away that it was impossible to ignore it, and our country visit took aturn which neither of us could have anticipated. We were at breakfastwhen the Colonel's butler rushed in with all his propriety shaken out ofhim.
"Have you heard the news, sir?" he gasped. "At the Cunningham's sir!"
"Burglary!" cried the Colonel, with his coffee-cup in mid-air.
"Murder!"
The Colonel whistled. "By Jove!" said he. "Who's killed, then? The J.P.or his son?"
"Neither, sir. It was William the coachman. Shot through the heart, sir,and never spoke again."
"Who shot him, then?"
"The burglar, sir. He was off like a shot and got clean away. He'd justbroke in at the pantry window when William came on him and met his endin saving his master's property."
"What time?"
"It was last night, sir, somewhere about twelve."
"Ah, then, we'll step over afterwards," said the Colonel, coollysettling down to his breakfast again. "It's a baddish business," headded when the butler had gone; "he's our leading man about here, is oldCunningham, and a very decent fellow too. He'll be cut up over this, forthe man has been in his service for years and was a good servant. It'sevidently the same villains who broke into Acton's."
"And stole that very singular collection," said Holmes, thoughtfully.
"Precisely."
"Hum! It may prove the simplest matter in the world, but all the sameat first glance this is just a little curious, is it not? A gang ofburglars acting in the country might be expected to vary the scene oftheir operations, and not to crack two cribs in the same district withina few days. When you spoke last night of taking precautions I rememberthat it passed through my mind that this was probably the last parishin England to which the thief or thieves would be likely to turn theirattention--which shows that I have still much to learn."
"I fancy it's some local practitioner," said the Colonel. "In that case,of course, Acton's and Cunningham's are just the places he would go for,since they are far the largest about here."
"And richest?"
"Well, they ought to be, but they've had a lawsuit for some years whichhas sucked the blood out of both of them, I fancy. Old Acton has someclaim on half Cunningham's estate, and the lawyers have been at it withboth hands."
"If it's a local villain there should not be much difficulty in runninghim down," said Holmes with a yawn. "All right, Watson, I don't intendto meddle."
"Inspector Forrester, sir," said the butler, throwing open the door.
The official, a smart, keen-faced young fellow, stepped into the room."Good-morning, Colonel," said he; "I hope I don't intrude, but we hearthat Mr. Holmes of Baker Street is here."
The Colonel waved his hand towards my friend, and the Inspector bowed.
"We thought that perhaps you would care to step across, Mr. Holmes."
"The fates are against you, Watson," said he, laughing. "We werechatting about the matter when you came in, Inspector. Perhaps youcan let us have a few details." As he leaned back in his chair in thefamiliar attitude I knew that the case was hopeless.
"We had no clue in the Acton affair. But here we have plenty to go on,and there's no doubt it is the same party in each case. The man wasseen."
"Ah!"
"Yes, sir. But he was off like a deer after the shot that killed poorWilliam Kirwan was fired. Mr. Cunningham saw him from the bedroomwindow, and Mr. Alec Cunningham saw him from the back passage. It wasquarter to twelve when the alarm broke out. Mr. Cunningham had just gotinto bed, and Mr. Alec was smoking a pipe in his dressing-gown. Theyboth heard William the coachman calling for he
lp, and Mr. Alec ran downto see what was the matter. The back door was open, and as he came tothe foot of the stairs he saw two men wrestling together outside. One ofthem fired a shot, the other dropped, and the murderer rushed across thegarden and over the hedge. Mr. Cunningham, looking out of his bedroom,saw the fellow as he gained the road, but lost sight of him at once. Mr.Alec stopped to see if he could help the dying man, and so the villaingot clean away. Beyond the fact that he was a middle-sized man anddressed in some dark stuff, we have no personal clue; but we are makingenergetic inquiries, and if he is a stranger we shall soon find himout."
"What was this William doing there? Did he say anything before he died?"
"Not a word. He lives at the lodge with his mother, and as he was avery faithful fellow we imagine that he walked up to the house withthe intention of seeing that all was right there. Of course this Actonbusiness has put every one on their guard. The robber must have justburst open the door--the lock has been forced--when William came uponhim."
"Did William say anything to his mother before going out?"
"She is very old and deaf, and we can get no information from her. Theshock has made her half-witted, but I understand that she was neververy bright. There is one very important circumstance, however. Look atthis!"
He took a small piece of torn paper from a note-book and spread it outupon his knee.
"This was found between the finger and thumb of the dead man. It appearsto be a fragment torn from a larger sheet. You will observe that thehour mentioned upon it is the very time at which the poor fellow met hisfate. You see that his murderer might have torn the rest of the sheetfrom him or he might have taken this fragment from the murderer. Itreads almost as though it were an appointment."
Holmes took up the scrap of paper, a fac-simile of which is herereproduced.
at quarter to twelve learn what maybe
"Presuming that it is an appointment," continued the Inspector, "it isof course a conceivable theory that this William Kirwan--though he hadthe reputation of being an honest man, may have been in league with thethief. He may have met him there, may even have helped him to break inthe door, and then they may have fallen out between themselves."
"This writing is of extraordinary interest," said Holmes, who had beenexamining it with intense concentration. "These are much deeper watersthan I had thought." He sank his head upon his hands, while the Inspectorsmiled at the effect which his case had had upon the famous Londonspecialist.
"Your last remark," said Holmes, presently, "as to the possibility ofthere being an understanding between the burglar and the servant, andthis being a note of appointment from one to the other, is an ingeniousand not entirely impossible supposition. But this writing opens up--" Hesank his head into his hands again and remained for some minutes in thedeepest thought. When he raised his face again, I was surprised to seethat his cheek was tinged with color, and his eyes as bright as beforehis illness. He sprang to his feet with all his old energy.
"I'll tell you what," said he, "I should like to have a quiet littleglance into the details of this case. There is something in it whichfascinates me extremely. If you will permit me, Colonel, I will leave myfriend Watson and you, and I will step round with the Inspector to testthe truth of one or two little fancies of mine. I will be with you againin half an hour."
An hour and half had elapsed before the Inspector returned alone.
"Mr. Holmes is walking up and down in the field outside," said he. "Hewants us all four to go up to the house together."
"To Mr. Cunningham's?"
"Yes, sir."
"What for?"
The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. "I don't quite know, sir. Betweenourselves, I think Mr. Holmes had not quite got over his illness yet.He's been behaving very queerly, and he is very much excited."
"I don't think you need alarm yourself," said I. "I have usually foundthat there was method in his madness."
"Some folks might say there was madness in his method," muttered theInspector. "But he's all on fire to start, Colonel, so we had best goout if you are ready."
We found Holmes pacing up and down in the field, his chin sunk upon hisbreast, and his hands thrust into his trousers pockets.
"The matter grows in interest," said he. "Watson, your country-trip hasbeen a distinct success. I have had a charming morning."
"You have been up to the scene of the crime, I understand," said theColonel.
"Yes; the Inspector and I have made quite a little reconnaissancetogether."
"Any success?"
"Well, we have seen some very interesting things. I'll tell you what wedid as we walk. First of all, we saw the body of this unfortunate man.He certainly died from a revolver wound as reported."
"Had you doubted it, then?"
"Oh, it is as well to test everything. Our inspection was not wasted. Wethen had an interview with Mr. Cunningham and his son, who were ableto point out the exact spot where the murderer had broken through thegarden-hedge in his flight. That was of great interest."
"Naturally."
"Then we had a look at this poor fellow's mother. We could get noinformation from her, however, as she is very old and feeble."
"And what is the result of your investigations?"
"The conviction that the crime is a very peculiar one. Perhaps our visitnow may do something to make it less obscure. I think that we are bothagreed, Inspector that the fragment of paper in the dead man's hand,bearing, as it does, the very hour of his death written upon it, is ofextreme importance."
"It should give a clue, Mr. Holmes."
"It does give a clue. Whoever wrote that note was the man who broughtWilliam Kirwan out of his bed at that hour. But where is the rest ofthat sheet of paper?"
"I examined the ground carefully in the hope of finding it," said theInspector.
"It was torn out of the dead man's hand. Why was some one so anxious toget possession of it? Because it incriminated him. And what would he dowith it? Thrust it into his pocket, most likely, never noticing that acorner of it had been left in the grip of the corpse. If we could getthe rest of that sheet it is obvious that we should have gone a long waytowards solving the mystery."
"Yes, but how can we get at the criminal's pocket before we catch thecriminal?"
"Well, well, it was worth thinking over. Then there is another obviouspoint. The note was sent to William. The man who wrote it could not havetaken it; otherwise, of course, he might have delivered his own messageby word of mouth. Who brought the note, then? Or did it come through thepost?"
"I have made inquiries," said the Inspector. "William received a letterby the afternoon post yesterday. The envelope was destroyed by him."
"Excellent!" cried Holmes, clapping the Inspector on the back. "You'veseen the postman. It is a pleasure to work with you. Well, here is thelodge, and if you will come up, Colonel, I will show you the scene ofthe crime."
We passed the pretty cottage where the murdered man had lived, andwalked up an oak-lined avenue to the fine old Queen Anne house, whichbears the date of Malplaquet upon the lintel of the door. Holmes andthe Inspector led us round it until we came to the side gate, which isseparated by a stretch of garden from the hedge which lines the road. Aconstable was standing at the kitchen door.
"Throw the door open, officer," said Holmes. "Now, it was on thosestairs that young Mr. Cunningham stood and saw the two men strugglingjust where we are. Old Mr. Cunningham was at that window--the second onthe left--and he saw the fellow get away just to the left of that bush.Then Mr. Alec ran out and knelt beside the wounded man. The ground isvery hard, you see, and there are no marks to guide us." As he spoke twomen came down the garden path, from round the angle of the house. Theone was an elderly man, with a strong, deep-lined, heavy-eyed face; theother a dashing young fellow, whose bright, smiling expression and showydress were in strange contrast with the business which had brought usthere.
"Still at it, then?" said he to Holmes. "I thought yo
u Londoners werenever at fault. You don't seem to be so very quick, after all."
"Ah, you must give us a little time," said Holmes good-humoredly.
"You'll want it," said young Alec Cunningham. "Why, I don't see that wehave any clue at all."
"There's only one," answered the Inspector. "We thought that if we couldonly find--Good heavens, Mr. Holmes! What is the matter?"
My poor friend's face had suddenly assumed the most dreadful expression.His eyes rolled upwards, his features writhed in agony, and with asuppressed groan he dropped on his face upon the ground. Horrifiedat the suddenness and severity of the attack, we carried him into thekitchen, where he lay back in a large chair, and breathed heavily forsome minutes. Finally, with a shamefaced apology for his weakness, herose once more.
"Watson would tell you that I have only just recovered from a severeillness," he explained. "I am liable to these sudden nervous attacks."
"Shall I send you home in my trap?" asked old Cunningham.
"Well, since I am here, there is one point on which I should like tofeel sure. We can very easily verify it."
"What was it?"
"Well, it seems to me that it is just possible that the arrival ofthis poor fellow William was not before, but after, the entrance ofthe burglar into the house. You appear to take it for granted that,although the door was forced, the robber never got in."
"I fancy that is quite obvious," said Mr. Cunningham, gravely. "Why, myson Alec had not yet gone to bed, and he would certainly have heard anyone moving about."
"Where was he sitting?"
"I was smoking in my dressing-room."
"Which window is that?"
"The last on the left next my father's."
"Both of your lamps were lit, of course?"
"Undoubtedly."
"There are some very singular points here," said Holmes, smiling. "Isit not extraordinary that a burglar--and a burglar who had had someprevious experience--should deliberately break into a house at a timewhen he could see from the lights that two of the family were stillafoot?"
"He must have been a cool hand."
"Well, of course, if the case were not an odd one we should not havebeen driven to ask you for an explanation," said young Mr. Alec. "But asto your ideas that the man had robbed the house before William tackledhim, I think it a most absurd notion. Wouldn't we have found the placedisarranged, and missed the things which he had taken?"
"It depends on what the things were," said Holmes. "You must rememberthat we are dealing with a burglar who is a very peculiar fellow, andwho appears to work on lines of his own. Look, for example, at thequeer lot of things which he took from Acton's--what was it?--a ball ofstring, a letter-weight, and I don't know what other odds and ends."
"Well, we are quite in your hands, Mr. Holmes," said old Cunningham."Anything which you or the Inspector may suggest will most certainly bedone."
"In the first place," said Holmes, "I should like you to offer areward--coming from yourself, for the officials may take a little timebefore they would agree upon the sum, and these things cannot be donetoo promptly. I have jotted down the form here, if you would not mindsigning it. Fifty pounds was quite enough, I thought."
"I would willingly give five hundred," said the J.P., taking the slipof paper and the pencil which Holmes handed to him. "This is not quitecorrect, however," he added, glancing over the document.
"I wrote it rather hurriedly."
"You see you begin, 'Whereas, at about a quarter to one on Tuesdaymorning an attempt was made,' and so on. It was at a quarter to twelve,as a matter of fact."
I was pained at the mistake, for I knew how keenly Holmes would feel anyslip of the kind. It was his specialty to be accurate as to fact, buthis recent illness had shaken him, and this one little incident wasenough to show me that he was still far from being himself. He wasobviously embarrassed for an instant, while the Inspector raised hiseyebrows, and Alec Cunningham burst into a laugh. The old gentlemancorrected the mistake, however, and handed the paper back to Holmes.
"Get it printed as soon as possible," he said; "I think your idea is anexcellent one."
Holmes put the slip of paper carefully away into his pocket-book.
"And now," said he, "it really would be a good thing that we should allgo over the house together and make certain that this rather erraticburglar did not, after all, carry anything away with him."
Before entering, Holmes made an examination of the door which had beenforced. It was evident that a chisel or strong knife had been thrustin, and the lock forced back with it. We could see the marks in the woodwhere it had been pushed in.
"You don't use bars, then?" he asked.
"We have never found it necessary."
"You don't keep a dog?"
"Yes, but he is chained on the other side of the house."
"When do the servants go to bed?"
"About ten."
"I understand that William was usually in bed also at that hour."
"Yes."
"It is singular that on this particular night he should have been up.Now, I should be very glad if you would have the kindness to show usover the house, Mr. Cunningham."
A stone-flagged passage, with the kitchens branching away from it, ledby a wooden staircase directly to the first floor of the house. It cameout upon the landing opposite to a second more ornamental stair whichcame up from the front hall. Out of this landing opened the drawing-roomand several bedrooms, including those of Mr. Cunningham and his son.Holmes walked slowly, taking keen note of the architecture of the house.I could tell from his expression that he was on a hot scent, and yetI could not in the least imagine in what direction his inferences wereleading him.
"My good sir," said Mr. Cunningham with some impatience, "this is surelyvery unnecessary. That is my room at the end of the stairs, and myson's is the one beyond it. I leave it to your judgment whether it waspossible for the thief to have come up here without disturbing us."
"You must try round and get on a fresh scent, I fancy," said the sonwith a rather malicious smile.
"Still, I must ask you to humor me a little further. I should like, forexample, to see how far the windows of the bedrooms command the front.This, I understand is your son's room"--he pushed open the door--"andthat, I presume, is the dressing-room in which he sat smoking when thealarm was given. Where does the window of that look out to?" He steppedacross the bedroom, pushed open the door, and glanced round the otherchamber.
"I hope that you are satisfied now?" said Mr. Cunningham, tartly.
"Thank you, I think I have seen all that I wished."
"Then if it is really necessary we can go into my room."
"If it is not too much trouble."
The J. P. shrugged his shoulders, and led the way into his own chamber,which was a plainly furnished and commonplace room. As we moved acrossit in the direction of the window, Holmes fell back until he and I werethe last of the group. Near the foot of the bed stood a dish of orangesand a carafe of water. As we passed it Holmes, to my unutterableastonishment, leaned over in front of me and deliberately knocked thewhole thing over. The glass smashed into a thousand pieces and the fruitrolled about into every corner of the room.
"You've done it now, Watson," said he, coolly. "A pretty mess you'vemade of the carpet."
I stooped in some confusion and began to pick up the fruit,understanding for some reason my companion desired me to take the blameupon myself. The others did the same, and set the table on its legsagain.
"Hullo!" cried the Inspector, "where's he got to?"
Holmes had disappeared.
"Wait here an instant," said young Alec Cunningham. "The fellow is offhis head, in my opinion. Come with me, father, and see where he has gotto!"
They rushed out of the room, leaving the Inspector, the Colonel, and mestaring at each other.
"'Pon my word, I am inclined to agree with Master Alec," said theofficial. "It may be the effect of this illness, but it seems to methat--"
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br /> His words were cut short by a sudden scream of "Help! Help! Murder!"With a thrill I recognized the voice of that of my friend. I rushedmadly from the room on to the landing. The cries, which had sunk downinto a hoarse, inarticulate shouting, came from the room which we hadfirst visited. I dashed in, and on into the dressing-room beyond. Thetwo Cunninghams were bending over the prostrate figure of SherlockHolmes, the younger clutching his throat with both hands, while theelder seemed to be twisting one of his wrists. In an instant the threeof us had torn them away from him, and Holmes staggered to his feet,very pale and evidently greatly exhausted.
"Arrest these men, Inspector," he gasped.
"On what charge?"
"That of murdering their coachman, William Kirwan."
The Inspector stared about him in bewilderment. "Oh, come now, Mr.Holmes," said he at last, "I'm sure you don't really mean to--"
"Tut, man, look at their faces!" cried Holmes, curtly.
Never certainly have I seen a plainer confession of guilt upon humancountenances. The older man seemed numbed and dazed with a heavy, sullenexpression upon his strongly-marked face. The son, on the other hand,had dropped all that jaunty, dashing style which had characterized him,and the ferocity of a dangerous wild beast gleamed in his dark eyesand distorted his handsome features. The Inspector said nothing, but,stepping to the door, he blew his whistle. Two of his constables came atthe call.
"I have no alternative, Mr. Cunningham," said he. "I trust that this mayall prove to be an absurd mistake, but you can see that--Ah, would you?Drop it!" He struck out with his hand, and a revolver which the youngerman was in the act of cocking clattered down upon the floor.
"Keep that," said Holmes, quietly putting his foot upon it; "you willfind it useful at the trial. But this is what we really wanted." He heldup a little crumpled piece of paper.
"The remainder of the sheet!" cried the Inspector.
"Precisely."
"And where was it?"
"Where I was sure it must be. I'll make the whole matter clear to youpresently. I think, Colonel, that you and Watson might return now, andI will be with you again in an hour at the furthest. The Inspector and Imust have a word with the prisoners, but you will certainly see me backat luncheon time."
Sherlock Holmes was as good as his word, for about one o'clock herejoined us in the Colonel's smoking-room. He was accompanied by alittle elderly gentleman, who was introduced to me as the Mr. Actonwhose house had been the scene of the original burglary.
"I wished Mr. Acton to be present while I demonstrated this small matterto you," said Holmes, "for it is natural that he should take a keeninterest in the details. I am afraid, my dear Colonel, that you mustregret the hour that you took in such a stormy petrel as I am."
"On the contrary," answered the Colonel, warmly, "I consider it thegreatest privilege to have been permitted to study your methods ofworking. I confess that they quite surpass my expectations, and that Iam utterly unable to account for your result. I have not yet seen thevestige of a clue."
"I am afraid that my explanation may disillusion you but it has alwaysbeen my habit to hide none of my methods, either from my friend Watsonor from any one who might take an intelligent interest in them. But,first, as I am rather shaken by the knocking about which I had inthe dressing-room, I think that I shall help myself to a dash of yourbrandy, Colonel. My strength had been rather tried of late."
"I trust that you had no more of those nervous attacks."
Sherlock Holmes laughed heartily. "We will come to that in its turn,"said he. "I will lay an account of the case before you in its due order,showing you the various points which guided me in my decision. Prayinterrupt me if there is any inference which is not perfectly clear toyou.
"It is of the highest importance in the art of detection to be ableto recognize, out of a number of facts, which are incidental and whichvital. Otherwise your energy and attention must be dissipated instead ofbeing concentrated. Now, in this case there was not the slightest doubtin my mind from the first that the key of the whole matter must belooked for in the scrap of paper in the dead man's hand.
"Before going into this, I would draw your attention to the fact that,if Alec Cunningham's narrative was correct, and if the assailant, aftershooting William Kirwan, had instantly fled, then it obviously could notbe he who tore the paper from the dead man's hand. But if it was not he,it must have been Alec Cunningham himself, for by the time that the oldman had descended several servants were upon the scene. The point is asimple one, but the Inspector had overlooked it because he had startedwith the supposition that these county magnates had had nothing to dowith the matter. Now, I make a point of never having any prejudices,and of following docilely wherever fact may lead me, and so, in thevery first stage of the investigation, I found myself looking a littleaskance at the part which had been played by Mr. Alec Cunningham.
"And now I made a very careful examination of the corner of paper whichthe Inspector had submitted to us. It was at once clear to me that itformed part of a very remarkable document. Here it is. Do you not nowobserve something very suggestive about it?"
"It has a very irregular look," said the Colonel.
"My dear sir," cried Holmes, "there cannot be the least doubt in theworld that it has been written by two persons doing alternate words.When I draw your attention to the strong t's of 'at' and 'to', and askyou to compare them with the weak ones of 'quarter' and 'twelve,' youwill instantly recognize the fact. A very brief analysis of thesefour words would enable you to say with the utmost confidence that the'learn' and the 'maybe' are written in the stronger hand, and the 'what'in the weaker."
"By Jove, it's as clear as day!" cried the Colonel. "Why on earth shouldtwo men write a letter in such a fashion?"
"Obviously the business was a bad one, and one of the men who distrustedthe other was determined that, whatever was done, each should have anequal hand in it. Now, of the two men, it is clear that the one whowrote the 'at' and 'to' was the ringleader."
"How do you get at that?"
"We might deduce it from the mere character of the one hand as comparedwith the other. But we have more assured reasons than that for supposingit. If you examine this scrap with attention you will come to theconclusion that the man with the stronger hand wrote all his wordsfirst, leaving blanks for the other to fill up. These blanks were notalways sufficient, and you can see that the second man had a squeezeto fit his 'quarter' in between the 'at' and the 'to,' showing that thelatter were already written. The man who wrote all his words first isundoubtedly the man who planned the affair."
"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton.
"But very superficial," said Holmes. "We come now, however, to a pointwhich is of importance. You may not be aware that the deduction of aman's age from his writing is one which has been brought to considerableaccuracy by experts. In normal cases one can place a man in his truedecade with tolerable confidence. I say normal cases, because ill-healthand physical weakness reproduce the signs of old age, even when theinvalid is a youth. In this case, looking at the bold, strong hand ofthe one, and the rather broken-backed appearance of the other, whichstill retains its legibility although the t's have begun to lose theircrossing, we can say that the one was a young man and the other wasadvanced in years without being positively decrepit."
"Excellent!" cried Mr. Acton again.
"There is a further point, however, which is subtler and of greaterinterest. There is something in common between these hands. They belongto men who are blood-relatives. It may be most obvious to you in theGreek e's, but to me there are many small points which indicate the samething. I have no doubt at all that a family mannerism can be traced inthese two specimens of writing. I am only, of course, giving youthe leading results now of my examination of the paper. There weretwenty-three other deductions which would be of more interest to expertsthan to you. They all tend to deepen the impression upon my mind thatthe Cunninghams, father and son, had written this letter.
"Having go
t so far, my next step was, of course, to examine into thedetails of the crime, and to see how far they would help us. I went upto the house with the Inspector, and saw all that was to be seen. Thewound upon the dead man was, as I was able to determine with absoluteconfidence, fired from a revolver at the distance of something overfour yards. There was no powder-blackening on the clothes. Evidently,therefore, Alec Cunningham had lied when he said that the two men werestruggling when the shot was fired. Again, both father and son agreedas to the place where the man escaped into the road. At that point,however, as it happens, there is a broadish ditch, moist at the bottom.As there were no indications of bootmarks about this ditch, I wasabsolutely sure not only that the Cunninghams had again lied, but thatthere had never been any unknown man upon the scene at all.
"And now I have to consider the motive of this singular crime. To getat this, I endeavored first of all to solve the reason of the originalburglary at Mr. Acton's. I understood, from something which the Coloneltold us, that a lawsuit had been going on between you, Mr. Acton, andthe Cunninghams. Of course, it instantly occurred to me that they hadbroken into your library with the intention of getting at some documentwhich might be of importance in the case."
"Precisely so," said Mr. Acton. "There can be no possible doubt as totheir intentions. I have the clearest claim upon half of their presentestate, and if they could have found a single paper--which, fortunately,was in the strong-box of my solicitors--they would undoubtedly havecrippled our case."
"There you are," said Holmes, smiling. "It was a dangerous, recklessattempt, in which I seem to trace the influence of young Alec. Havingfound nothing they tried to divert suspicion by making it appear to bean ordinary burglary, to which end they carried off whatever they couldlay their hands upon. That is all clear enough, but there was much thatwas still obscure. What I wanted above all was to get the missing partof that note. I was certain that Alec had torn it out of the dead man'shand, and almost certain that he must have thrust it into the pocket ofhis dressing-gown. Where else could he have put it? The only questionwas whether it was still there. It was worth an effort to find out, andfor that object we all went up to the house.
"The Cunninghams joined us, as you doubtless remember, outside thekitchen door. It was, of course, of the very first importance that theyshould not be reminded of the existence of this paper, otherwise theywould naturally destroy it without delay. The Inspector was about totell them the importance which we attached to it when, by the luckiestchance in the world, I tumbled down in a sort of fit and so changed theconversation.
"Good heavens!" cried the Colonel, laughing, "do you mean to say all oursympathy was wasted and your fit an imposture?"
"Speaking professionally, it was admirably done," cried I, looking inamazement at this man who was forever confounding me with some new phaseof his astuteness.
"It is an art which is often useful," said he. "When I recovered Imanaged, by a device which had perhaps some little merit of ingenuity,to get old Cunningham to write the word 'twelve,' so that I mightcompare it with the 'twelve' upon the paper."
"Oh, what an ass I have been!" I exclaimed.
"I could see that you were commiserating me over my weakness," saidHolmes, laughing. "I was sorry to cause you the sympathetic pain whichI know that you felt. We then went upstairs together, and having enteredthe room and seen the dressing-gown hanging up behind the door, Icontrived, by upsetting a table, to engage their attention for themoment, and slipped back to examine the pockets. I had hardly got thepaper, however--which was, as I had expected, in one of them--when thetwo Cunninghams were on me, and would, I verily believe, have murderedme then and there but for your prompt and friendly aid. As it is, I feelthat young man's grip on my throat now, and the father has twisted mywrist round in the effort to get the paper out of my hand. They saw thatI must know all about it, you see, and the sudden change from absolutesecurity to complete despair made them perfectly desperate.
"I had a little talk with old Cunningham afterwards as to the motive ofthe crime. He was tractable enough, though his son was a perfect demon,ready to blow out his own or anybody else's brains if he could have gotto his revolver. When Cunningham saw that the case against him was sostrong he lost all heart and made a clean breast of everything. It seemsthat William had secretly followed his two masters on the night whenthey made their raid upon Mr. Acton's, and having thus got them intohis power, proceeded, under threats of exposure, to levy blackmail uponthem. Mr. Alec, however, was a dangerous man to play games of thatsort with. It was a stroke of positive genius on his part to see in theburglary scare which was convulsing the country side an opportunity ofplausibly getting rid of the man whom he feared. William was decoyed upand shot, and had they only got the whole of the note and paid a littlemore attention to detail in the accessories, it is very possible thatsuspicion might never have been aroused."
"And the note?" I asked.
Sherlock Holmes placed the subjoined paper before us.
If you will only come round at quarter to twelve to the east gate you will learn what will very much surprise you and maybe [sic] be of the greatest service to you and also to Annie Morrison. But say nothing to anyone upon the matter.
"It is very much the sort of thing that I expected," said he. "Ofcourse, we do not yet know what the relations may have been between AlecCunningham, William Kirwan, and Annie Morrison. The results shows thatthe trap was skillfully baited. I am sure that you cannot fail to bedelighted with the traces of heredity shown in the p's and in the tailsof the g's. The absence of the i-dots in the old man's writing is alsomost characteristic. Watson, I think our quiet rest in the country hasbeen a distinct success, and I shall certainly return much invigoratedto Baker Street to-morrow."
The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes Page 7