“Why, it is simple enough. The two stains did correspond, butthe carpet has been turned round. As it was square and unfastenedit was easily done.”
“The official police don’t need you, Mr. Holmes, to tell themthat the carpet must have been turned round. That’s clear enough,for the stains lie above each other—if you lay it over this way. Butwhat I want to know is, who shifted the carpet, and why?”
I could see from Holmes’s rigid face that he was vibrating withinward excitement.
“Look here, Lestrade,” said he, “has that constable in thepassage been in charge of the place all the time?”
“Yes, he has.”
“Well, take my advice. Examine him carefully. Don’t do it beforeus. Well wait here. You take him into the back room. You’ll bemore likely to get a confession out of him alone. Ask him how hedared to admit people and leave them alone in this room. Don’task him if he has done it. Take it for granted. Tell him you knowsomeone has been here. Press him. Tell him that a full confessionis his only chance of forgiveness. Do exactly what I tell you!”
“By George, if he knows I’ll have it out of him!” cried Lestrade.
He darted into the hall, and a few moments later his bullying voicesounded from the back room.
“Now, Watson, now!” cried Holmes with frenzied eagerness.
All the demoniacal force of the man masked behind that listlessmanner burst out in a paroxysm of energy. He tore the druggetfrom the floor, and in an instant was down on his hands and kneesclawing at each of the squares of wood beneath it. One turnedsideways as he dug his nails into the edge of it. It hinged back likethe lid of a box. A small black cavity opened beneath it. Holmesplunged his eager hand into it and drew it out with a bitter snarlof anger and disappointment. It was empty.
“Quick, Watson, quick! Get it back again!” The wooden lidwas replaced, and the drugget had only just been drawn straightwhen Lestrade’s voice was heard in the passage. He found Holmesleaning languidly against the mantelpiece, resigned and patient,endeavouring to conceal his irrepressible yawns.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Holmes, I can see that you arebored to death with the whole affair. Well, he has confessed, allright. Come in here, MacPherson. Let these gentlemen hear ofyour most inexcusable conduct.”
The big constable, very hot and penitent, sidled into the room.
“I meant no harm, sir, I’m sure. The young woman came to thedoor last evening—mistook the house, she did. And then we gottalking. It’s lonesome, when you’re on duty here all day.”
“Well, what happened then?”
“She wanted to see where the crime was done—had read aboutit in the papers, she said. She was a very respectable, well-spokenyoung woman, sir, and I saw no harm in letting her have a peep.
When she saw that mark on the carpet, down she dropped on thefloor, and lay as if she were dead. I ran to the back and got somewater, but I could not bring her to. Then I went round the cornerto the Ivy Plant for some brandy, and by the time I had broughtit back the young woman had recovered and was off—ashamed ofherself, I daresay, and dared not face me.”
“How about moving that drugget?”
“Well, sir, it was a bit rumpled, certainly, when I came back. Yousee, she fell on it and it lies on a polished floor with nothing tokeep it in place. I straightened it out afterwards.”
“It’s a lesson to you that you can’t deceive me, ConstableMacPherson,” said Lestrade, with dignity. “No doubt you thoughtthat your breach of duty could never be discovered, and yet a mereglance at that drugget was enough to convince me that someonehad been admitted to the room. It’s lucky for you, my man, thatnothing is missing, or you would find yourself in Queer Street.
I’m sorry to have called you down over such a petty business,Mr. Holmes, but I thought the point of the second stain notcorresponding with the first would interest you.”
“Certainly, it was most interesting. Has this woman only beenhere once, constable?”
“Yes, sir, only once.”
“Who was she?”
“Don’t know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisementabout typewriting and came to the wrong number—very pleasant,genteel young woman, sir.”
“Tall? Handsome?”
“Yes, sir, she was a well-grown young woman. I suppose youmight say she was handsome. Perhaps some would say she wasvery handsome. ‘Oh, officer, do let me have a peep!’ says she. Shehad pretty, coaxing ways, as you might say, and I thought there wasno harm in letting her just put her head through the door.”
“How was she dressed?”
“Quiet, sir—a long mantle down to her feet.”
“What time was it?”
“It was just growing dusk at the time. They were lighting thelamps as I came back with the brandy.”
“Very good,” said Holmes. “Come, Watson, I think that we havemore important work elsewhere.”
As we left the house Lestrade remained in the front room, whilethe repentant constable opened the door to let us out. Holmes turnedon the step and held up something in his hand. The constable staredintently.
“Good Lord, sir!” he cried, with amazement on his face. Holmesput his finger on his lips, replaced his hand in his breast pocket,and burst out laughing as we turned down the street. “Excellent!”
said he. “Come, friend Watson, the curtain rings up for the lastact. You will be relieved to hear that there will be no war, thatthe Right Honourable Trelawney Hope will suffer no setback inhis brilliant career, that the indiscreet Sovereign will receive nopunishment for his indiscretion, that the Prime Minister will haveno European complication to deal with, and that with a little tactand management upon our part nobody will be a penny the worsefor what might have been a very ugly incident.”
My mind filled with admiration for this extraordinary man.
“You have solved it!” I cried.
“Hardly that, Watson. There are some points which are as darkas ever. But we have so much that it will be our own fault if wecannot get the rest. We will go straight to Whitehall Terrace andbring the matter to a head.”