I am simply applying to ordinary life a few of those precepts ofobservation and deduction which I advocated in that article. Isthere anything else that puzzles you?”
“The finger-nails and the Trichinopoly,” I suggested.
“The writing on the wall was done with a man’s forefingerdipped in blood. My glass allowed me to observe that the plasterwas slightly scratched in doing it, which would not have beenthe case if the man’s nail had been trimmed. I gathered up somescattered ash from the floor. It was dark in colour and flakey—such an ash is only made by a Trichinopoly. I have made a specialstudy of cigar ashes—in fact, I have written a monograph uponthe subject. I flatter myself that I can distinguish at a glance theash of any known brand either of cigar or of tobacco. It is just insuch details that the skilled detective differs from the Gregsonand Lestrade type.”
“And the florid face?” I asked.
“Ah, that was a more daring shot, though I have no doubt thatI was right. You must not ask me that at the present state of theaffair.”
I passed my hand over my brow. “My head is in a whirl,” Iremarked; “the more one thinks of it the more mysterious itgrows. How came these two men—if there were two men—intoan empty house? What has become of the cabman who drovethem? How could one man compel another to take poison? Wheredid the blood come from? What was the object of the murderer,since robbery had no part in it? How came the woman’s ringthere? Above all, why should the second man write up the Germanword RACHE before decamping? I confess that I cannot see anypossible way of reconciling all these facts.”
My companion smiled approvingly.
“You sum up the difficulties of the situation succinctly andwell,” he said. “There is much that is still obscure, though I havequite made up my mind on the main facts. As to poor Lestrade’sdiscovery, it was simply a blind intended to put the police upona wrong track, by suggesting Socialism and secret societies. Itwas not done by a German. The A, if you noticed, was printedsomewhat after the German fashion. Now, a real Germaninvariably prints in the Latin character, so that we may safely saythat this was not written by one, but by a clumsy imitator whooverdid his part. It was simply a ruse to divert inquiry into awrong channel. I’m not going to tell you much more of the case,Doctor. You know a conjuror gets no credit when once he hasexplained his trick; and if I show you too much of my method ofworking, you will come to the conclusion that I am a very ordinaryindividual after all.”
“I shall never do that,” I answered; “you have brought detectionas near an exact science as it ever will be brought in this world.”
My companion flushed up with pleasure at my words, and theearnest way in which I uttered them. I had already observed thathe was as sensitive to flattery on the score of his art as any girlcould be of her beauty.
“I’ll tell you one other thing,” he said. “Patent-leathers andSquare-toes came in the same cab, and they walked down thepathway together as friendly as possible—arm-in-arm, in allprobability. When they got inside, they walked up and down theroom—or rather, Patent-leathers stood still while Square-toeswalked up and down. I could read all that in the dust; and I couldread that as he walked he grew more and more excited. That isshown by the increased length of his strides. He was talking allthe while, and working himself up, no doubt, into a fury. Then thetragedy occurred. I’ve told you all I know myself now, for the restis mere surmise and conjecture. We have a good working basis,however, on which to start. We must hurry up, for I want to go toHalle’s concert to hear Norman Neruda this afternoon.”
This conversation had occurred while our cab had beenthreading its way through a long succession of dingy streets anddreary by ways. In the dingiest and dreariest of them our driversuddenly came to a stand. “That’s Audley Court in there,” he said,pointing to a narrow slit in the line of dead-coloured brick. “You’llfind me here when you come back.”
Audley Court was not an attractive locality. The narrow passageled us into a quadrangle paved with flags and lined by sordiddwellings. We picked our way among groups of dirty children,and through lines of discoloured linen, until we came to Number46, the door of which was decorated with a small slip of brass onwhich the name Rance was engraved. On inquiry we found thatthe constable was in bed, and we were shown into a little frontparlour to await his coming.
He appeared presently, looking a little irritable at beingdisturbed in his slumbers. “I made my report at the office,” hesaid.
Holmes took a half-sovereign from his pocket and played with itpensively. “We thought that we should like to hear it all from yourown lips,” he said.
“I shall be most happy to tell you anything I can,” the constableanswered, with his eyes upon the little golden disc.
“Just let us hear it all in your own way as it occurred.”
Rance sat down on the horsehair sofa, and knitted his brows, asthough determined not to omit anything in his narrative.
“I’ll tell it ye from the beginning,” he said. “My time is from tenat night to six in the morning. At eleven there was a fight at theWhite Hart; but bar that all was quiet enough on the beat. At oneo’clock it began to rain, and I met Harry Murcher—him who hasthe Holland Grove beat—and we stood together at the corner ofHenrietta Street a-talkin’. Presently—maybe about two or a littleafter—I thought I would take a look round and see that all wasright down the Brixton Road. It was precious dirty and lonely.
Not a soul did I meet all the way down, though a cab or two wentpast me. I was a-strollin’ down, thinkin’ between ourselves howuncommon handy a four of gin hot would be, when suddenly theglint of a light caught my eye in the window of that same house.