"Any questions, Mr. Holmes?" asked Hopkins.
"I will not impose any further tax upon Lady Brackenstall's
patience and time," said Holmes. "Before I go into the
dining-room I should like to hear your experience." He looked at
the maid.
"I saw the men before ever they came into the house," said she.
"As I sat by my bedroom window I saw three men in the moonlight
down by the lodge gate yonder, but I thought nothing of it at the
time. It was more than an hour after that I heard my mistress
scream, and down I ran, to find her, poor lamb, just as she says,
and him on the floor with his blood and brains over the room. It
was enough to drive a woman out of her wits, tied there, and her
very dress spotted with him; but she never wanted courage, did
Miss Mary Fraser of Adelaide, and Lady Brackenstall of Abbey
Grange hasn't learned new ways. You've questioned her long
enough, you gentlemen, and now she is coming to her own room,
just with her old Theresa, to get the rest that she badly needs."
With a motherly tenderness the gaunt woman put her arm round her
mistress and led her from the room.
"She has been with her all her life," said Hopkins. "Nursed her
as a baby, and came with her to England when they first left
Australia eighteen months ago. Theresa Wright is her name,
and the kind of maid you don't pick up nowadays. This way,
Mr. Holmes, if you please!"
The keen interest had passed out of Holmes's expressive face,
and I knew that with the mystery all the charm of the case had
departed. There still remained an arrest to be effected, but what
were these commonplace rogues that he should soil his hands with
them? An abstruse and learned specialist who finds that he has
been called in for a case of measles would experience something of
the annoyance which I read in my friend's eyes. Yet the scene in
the dining-room of the Abbey Grange was sufficiently strange to
arrest his attention and to recall his waning interest.
It was a very large and high chamber, with carved oak ceiling,
oaken panelling, and a fine array of deer's heads and ancient
weapons around the walls. At the farther end from the door was
the high French window of which we had heard. Three smaller
windows on the right-hand side filled the apartment with cold
winter sunshine. On the left was a large, deep fireplace, with a
massive over-hanging oak mantelpiece. Beside the fireplace was a
heavy oaken chair with arms and cross-bars at the bottom. In and
out through the open woodwork was woven a crimson cord, which was
secured at each side to the crosspiece below. In releasing the
lady the cord had been slipped off her, but the knots with which
it had been secured still remained. These details only struck our
attention afterwards, for our thoughts were entirely absorbed by
the terrible object which lay spread upon the tiger-skin hearthrug
in front of the fire.
It was the body of a tall, well-made man, about forty years of
age. He lay upon his back, his face upturned, with his white
teeth grinning through his short black beard. His two clenched
hands were raised above his head, and a heavy blackthorn stick lay
across them. His dark, handsome, aquiline features were convulsed
into a spasm of vindictive hatred, which had set his dead face in
a terribly fiendish expression. He had evidently been in his bed
when the alarm had broken out, for he wore a foppish embroidered
night-shirt, and his bare feet projected from his trousers. His
head was horribly injured, and the whole room bore witness to the
savage ferocity of the blow which had struck him down. Beside him
lay the heavy poker, bent into a curve by the concussion. Holmes
examined both it and the indescribable wreck which it had wrought.
"He must be a powerful man, this elder Randall," he remarked.
"Yes," said Hopkins. "I have some record of the fellow, and he is
a rough customer."
"You should have no difficulty in getting him."
"Not the slightest. We have been on the look-out for him, and
there was some idea that he had got away to America. Now that we
know the gang are here I don't see how they can escape. We have
the news at every seaport already, and a reward will be offered
before evening. What beats me is how they could have done so mad
a thing, knowing that the lady could describe them, and that we
could not fail to recognise the description."
"Exactly. One would have expected that they would have silenced
Lady Brackenstall as well."
"They may not have realized," I suggested, "that she had recovered
from her faint."
"That is likely enough. If she seemed to be senseless they would
not take her life. What about this poor fellow, Hopkins? I seem
to have heard some queer stories about him."
"He was a good-hearted man when he was sober, but a perfect fiend
when he was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk, for he seldom
really went the whole way. The devil seemed to be in him at such
times, and he was capable of anything. From what I hear, in spite
of all his wealth and his title, he very nearly came our way once
or twice. There was a scandal about his drenching a dog with
petroleum and setting it on fire -- her ladyship's dog, to make
the matter worse -- and that was only hushed up with difficulty.
Then he threw a decanter at that maid, Theresa Wright; there was
trouble about that. On the whole, and between ourselves, it will
be a brighter house without him. What are you looking at now?"
Holmes was down on his knees examining with great attention the
knots upon the red cord with which the lady had been secured.
Then he carefully scrutinized the broken and frayed end where it
had snapped off when the burglar had dragged it down.
"When this was pulled down the bell in the kitchen must have rung
loudly," he remarked.
"No one could hear it. The kitchen stands right at the back of
the house."
"How did the burglar know no one would hear it? How dared he pull
at a bell-rope in that reckless fashion?"
"Exactly, Mr. Holmes, exactly. You put the very question which I
have asked myself again and again. There can be no doubt that
this fellow must have known the house and its habits. He must
have perfectly understood that the servants would all be in bed at
that comparatively early hour, and that no one could possibly hear
a bell ring in the kitchen. Therefore he must have been in close
league with one of the servants. Surely that is evident.
But there are eight servants, and all of good character."
"Other things being equal," said Holmes, "one would suspect the
one at whose head the master threw a decanter. And yet that would
involve treachery towards the mistress to whom this woman seems
devoted. Well, well, the point is a minor one, and when you have
Randall you will probably find no difficulty in securing his
/>
accomplice. The lady's story certainly seems to be corroborated,
if it needed corroboration, by every detail which we see before
us." He walked to the French window and threw it open. "There
are no signs here, but the ground is iron hard, and one would not
expect them. I see that these candles on the mantelpiece have
been lighted."
"Yes; it was by their light and that of the lady's bedroom candle
that the burglars saw their way about."
"And what did they take?"
"Well, they did not take much -- only half-a-dozen articles of
plate off the sideboard. Lady Brackenstall thinks that they were
themselves so disturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that they did
not ransack the house as they would otherwise have done."
"No doubt that is true. And yet they drank some wine,
I understand."
"To steady their own nerves."
"Exactly. These three glasses upon the sideboard have been
untouched, I suppose?"
"Yes; and the bottle stands as they left it."
"Let us look at it. Halloa! halloa! what is this?"
The three glasses were grouped together, all of them tinged with
wine, and one of them containing some dregs of bees-wing. The
bottle stood near them, two-thirds full, and beside it lay a long,
deeply-stained cork. Its appearance and the dust upon the bottle
showed that it was no common vintage which the murderers had
enjoyed.
A change had come over Holmes's manner. He had lost his listless
expression, and again I saw an alert light of interest in his
keen, deep-set eyes. He raised the cork and examined it minutely.
"How did they draw it?" he asked.
Hopkins pointed to a half-opened drawer. In it lay some table
linen and a large cork-screw.
"Did Lady Brackenstall say that screw was used?"
"No; you remember that she was senseless at the moment when the
bottle was opened."
"Quite so. As a matter of fact that screw was _not_ used. This
bottle was opened by a pocket-screw, probably contained in a
knife, and not more than an inch and a half long. If you examine
the top of the cork you will observe that the screw was driven in
three times before the cork was extracted. It has never been
transfixed. This long screw would have transfixed it and drawn it
with a single pull. When you catch this fellow you will find that
he has one of these multiplex knives in his possession."
"Excellent!" said Hopkins.
"But these glasses do puzzle me, I confess. Lady Brackenstall
actually _saw_ the three men drinking, did she not?"
"Yes; she was clear about that."
"Then there is an end of it. What more is to be said? And yet
you must admit that the three glasses are very remarkable,
Hopkins. What, you see nothing remarkable! Well, well, let it
pass. Perhaps when a man has special knowledge and special powers
like my own it rather encourages him to seek a complex explanation
when a simpler one is at hand. Of course, it must be a mere
chance about the glasses. Well, good morning, Hopkins. I don't
see that I can be of any use to you, and you appear to have your
case very clear. You will let me know when Randall is arrested,
and any further developments which may occur. I trust that I
shall soon have to congratulate you upon a successful conclusion.
Come, Watson, I fancy that we may employ ourselves more profitably
at home."
During our return journey I could see by Holmes's face that he was
much puzzled by something which he had observed. Every now and
then, by an effort, he would throw off the impression and talk as
if the matter were clear, but then his doubts would settle down
upon him again, and his knitted brows and abstracted eyes would
show that his thoughts had gone back once more to the great
dining-room of the Abbey Grange in which this midnight tragedy had
been enacted. At last, by a sudden impulse, just as our train was
crawling out of a suburban station, he sprang on to the platform
and pulled me out after him.
"Excuse me, my dear fellow," said he, as we watched the rear
carriages of our train disappearing round a curve; "I am sorry to
make you the victim of what may seem a mere whim, but on my life,
Watson, I simply _can't_ leave that case in this condition. Every
instinct that I possess cries out against it. It's wrong -- it's
all wrong -- I'll swear that it's wrong. And yet the lady's story
was complete, the maid's corroboration was sufficient, the detail
was fairly exact. What have I to put against that? Three
wine-glasses, that is all. But if I had not taken things for
granted, if I had examined everything with the care which I would
have shown had we approached the case _de novo_ and had no
cut-and-dried story to warp my mind, would I not then have found
something more definite to go upon? Of course I should. Sit down
on this bench, Watson, until a train for Chislehurst arrives, and
allow me to lay the evidence before you, imploring you in the
first instance to dismiss from your mind the idea that anything
which the maid or her mistress may have said must necessarily be
true. The lady's charming personality must not be permitted to
warp our judgment.
"Surely there are details in her story which, if we looked at it
in cold blood, would excite our suspicion. These burglars made a
considerable haul at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account of
them and of their appearance was in the papers, and would
naturally occur to anyone who wished to invent a story in which
imaginary robbers should play a part. As a matter of fact,
burglars who have done a good stroke of business are, as a rule,
only too glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quiet without
embarking on another perilous undertaking. Again, it is unusual
for burglars to operate at so early an hour; it is unusual for
burglars to strike a lady to prevent her screaming, since one
would imagine that was the sure way to make her scream; it is
unusual for them to commit murder when their numbers are
sufficient to overpower one man; it is unusual for them to be
content with a limited plunder when there is much more within
their reach; and finally I should say that it was very unusual for
such men to leave a bottle half empty. How do all these unusuals
strike you, Watson?"
"Their cumulative effect is certainly considerable, and yet each
of them is quite possible in itself. The most unusual thing of
all, as it seems to me, is that the lady should be tied to the
chair."
"Well, I am not so clear about that, Watson; for it is evident
that they must either kill her or else secure her in such a way
that she could not give immediate notice of their escape. But at
any rate I have shown, have I not, that there is a certain element
of improbability about the lady's story? And now on the top of
this comes the incident
of the wine-glasses."
"What about the wine-glasses?"
"Can you see them in your mind's eye?"
"I see them clearly."
"We are told that three men drank from them. Does that strike you
as likely?"
"Why not? There was wine in each glass."
"Exactly; but there was bees-wing only in one glass. You must
have noticed that fact. What does that suggest to your mind?"
"The last glass filled would be most likely to contain bees-wing."
"Not at all. The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable
that the first two glasses were clear and the third heavily
charged with it. There are two possible explanations, and only
two. One is that after the second glass was filled the bottle was
violently agitated, and so the third glass received the bees-wing.
That does not appear probable. No, no; I am sure that I am
right."
"What, then, do you suppose?"
"That only two glasses were used, and that the dregs of both were
poured into a third glass, so as to give the false impression that
three people had been here. In that way all the bees-wing would
be in the last glass, would it not? Yes, I am convinced that this
is so. But if I have hit upon the true explanation of this one
small phenomenon, then in an instant the case rises from the
commonplace to the exceedingly remarkable, for it can only mean
that Lady Brackenstall and her maid have deliberately lied to us,
that not one word of their story is to be believed, that they have
some very strong reason for covering the real criminal, and that
we must construct our case for ourselves without any help from
them. That is the mission which now lies before us, and here,
Watson, is the Chislehurst train."
The household of the Abbey Grange were much surprised at our
return, but Sherlock Holmes, finding that Stanley Hopkins had gone
off to report to head-quarters, took possession of the
dining-room, locked the door upon the inside, and devoted himself
for two hours to one of those minute and laborious investigations
which formed the solid basis on which his brilliant edifices of
deduction were reared. Seated in a corner like an interested
student who observes the demonstration of his professor, I
followed every step of that remarkable research. The window, the
curtains, the carpet, the chair, the rope -- each in turn was
minutely examined and duly pondered. The body of the unfortunate
baronet had been removed, but all else remained as we had seen it
in the morning. Then, to my astonishment, Holmes climbed up on to
the massive mantelpiece. Far above his head hung the few inches
of red cord which were still attached to the wire. For a long
time he gazed upwards at it, and then in an attempt to get nearer
to it he rested his knee upon a wooden bracket on the wall. This
brought his hand within a few inches of the broken end of the
rope, but it was not this so much as the bracket itself which
seemed to engage his attention. Finally he sprang down with an
ejaculation of satisfaction.
"It's all right, Watson," said he. "We have got our case -- one
of the most remarkable in our collection. But, dear me, how
slow-witted I have been, and how nearly I have committed the
blunder of my lifetime! Now, I think that with a few missing
links my chain is almost complete."
"You have got your men?"
"Man, Watson, man. Only one, but a very formidable person.
Strong as a lion -- witness the blow which bent that poker. Six
foot three in height, active as a squirrel, dexterous with his
fingers; finally, remarkably quick-witted, for this whole
ingenious story is of his concoction. Yes, Watson, we have come
upon the handiwork of a very remarkable individual. And yet in
that bell-rope he has given us a clue which should not have left
us a doubt."
"Where was the clue?"