Chapter 3 of a study in Scarlet by Sir.
Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in
the public domain. Chapter 3, The lauriston Gardens
mystery. I confess that I was
considerably startled by this fresh proof of the Practical
nature of my companions theories my respect for his powers of
analysis increased wondrously. There still remain some lurking
suspicion in my mind. However, that the whole thing
was a pre-arranged episode intended to dazzle me though,
what Earthly object he could have in taking the in was past
my comprehension. When I looked at him, he had
finished reading the note and his eyes had assumed the vacant
lackluster expression, which showed mental abstraction.
How in the world did you deduce that?
I asked. Reduce what said, he petulant
lie. Why did he was a retired?
Sergeant of Marines? I have no time to Trifles.
He answered Bruce Lee, then with a smile, excuse, my rudeness,
you broke the thread of my thoughts, but perhaps it is as
well. So you actually were not able to
see that the man was a sergeant of Marines.
No indeed. It was easier to know it than to
explain why I knew it. If you are asked to prove that
two and two made for, you might find some difficulty and yet
you're quite sure of the fact even across the street.
I could see a great Blue Anchor tattooed on the back of the
fellows hand that smacked of the sea.
He had a military Carriage however and regulation.
Side-whiskers, there we have the Marine.
He was a man with some amount of self-importance and a certain
air of command. You must have observed, the way
in which he held his head and swung, his Cane a steady.
Respectable. Middle-aged Man, 2 on the face
of him all facts, which led me to believe that he had been a
sergeant. Wonderful.
I ejaculated commonplace said Holmes, though.
I thought from his expression that he was pleased at my
evident surprise and admiration. I said just now that there were
no criminals. It appears that I am wrong.
Look at this. He threw me over the note, which
the coming soon are had brought why I cried as I cast my eye
over it. This is terrible.
It does seem to be a little out of the common.
He remarked calmly. Would you mind reading it to me
allowed? This is the letter which I read
to him. 'Dear.
Mr. Sherlock Holmes. There has been a bad business
during the night at 3. Lauriston gardens off the
Brixton. Road, man on the beat saw a
light there, about 2:00 in the morning.
And as the house was an empty one suspected.
That something was amiss, he found a door open and in the
front room, which is bare of furniture discovered, the body
of a Well, dressed and having cards in his pocket, bearing the
name of Enoch. J drebber, Cleveland, Ohio, USA.
There had been no robbery nor is there any evidence as to how the
man met his death? There are marks of blood in the
room, but there is no wound upon his person.
We are at a loss as to how he came into the empty house.
Indeed. The whole Affair is a Puzzler.
If you can come round to the house anytime, before 12, you
will, Me there. I have left everything in statu
quo until I hear from you. If you are unable to come, I
shall give you full details and word esteem.
It a great kindness. If you would favor me with your
opinion, Yours Faithfully Tobias Gregson.
Gregson is the smartest of the Scotland.
Yard has my friend remarked. He and lestrade are the pic of a
bad lot. They are both quick and
energetic, but conventional shockingly, so They have their
knives into one. Another to they are as jealous
as a pair of professional Beauties.
There will be some fun over this case.
If they are both put upon the scent.
I was amazed at the calm way in which he rippled on.
Surely. There's not a moment to be lost.
I cried, shall I go and order your cab?
I'm not sure about whether I should go.
I am the most incurably. Lazy devil that ever stood in
shoe leather. That is when the fit is on me,
for I can be spry enough at times.
Why it is just such a chance as you've been longing for.
My dear fellow. What does it matter to me?
Supposing, I unravel the whole matter.
You may be sure that Gregson and lestrade and Co will pocket all
the credit that comes of being an unofficial personage.
But he begs you to help him. Yes, he knows that I am his
Superior and acknowledges it to me, but he would cut his tongue
out before he would own it to any third person.
However, we may as well go and have a look.
I shall work it out on my own hook.
I may have a laugh at them. If I have nothing else.
Come on. He has a lot on his overcoat and
bustled about in a way that showed that an energetic fit had
superseded, the apathetic one, get your hat.
He said, You wish me to come. Yes, if you have nothing better
to do. A minute later.
We were both in a hansom driving furiously for the Brixton Road.
It was a foggy cloudy morning and a dun-colored Vale hung over
the housetops looking like the reflection of the mud-colored
streets. Beneath.
My companion was in the best of spirits and prattled Away about
cremona fiddles, and the difference between a
Stradivarius and Anna. Marty as for myself.
I was silent for the dull weather and The Melancholy
business upon which we were engaged depressed.
My spirits you don't seem to give much thought to the matter
in hand. I said it last interrupting
homes musical. Disquisition no data yet.
He answered. It is a capital mistake to
theorize before you have all the evidence.
It biases the judgment. You will have your data soon.
I remarked pointing with my finger.
This is the Brixton Road and that is a house if I'm not very
much mistaken. So it is stop driver.
Stop. We were still a hundred yards or
so from it, but he insisted Upon Our lighting and we finished our
journey upon foot. Number 3, lauriston gardens
Warren ill-omened and Military look.
It was on a for which stood back some little way from the street
to being occupied and to empty. The latter, looked out with
three tiers of vacant Melancholy Windows, which were blank and
dreary say that here and there are two.
Let card had developed like a cataract upon the bleared.
Pains a small garden sprinkled over with a scattered eruption
of sickly plant. It's separated each of these
houses from the street and was traversed by a narrow pathway,
yellowish in color and consisting.
Apparently of a mixture of clay. And of gravel.
The whole place was very sloppy from the rain, which had fallen
through the night. The garden was bounded by a
three-foot brick wall with a fringe of wood rails upon the
top. And against this wall was
leaning a stalwart police Constable surrounded by a small
knot of loafers who craned their necks.
Since train their eyes in the vain, hope of catching, some
glimpse of the proceedings within.
I had imagined that Sherlock Holmes would at once of hurried
into the house and plunged into a study of the mystery.
Nothing appeared to be further from his intention with an air
of nonchalance which under the circumstances seems to me to
border upon affectation. He lounged up and down the
pavement and gazed vacantly at the ground.
The sky, the opposite houses. And the line of railings having
finished his scrutiny. He proceeded slowly down the
path or rather Down The Fringe of grass, which flanked the
path, keeping his eyes riveted upon the ground twice.
He stopped. And once I saw him smile and
heard him, utter an exclamation of satisfaction, there were many
marks of footsteps upon the wet clay soil.
But since the police had been coming and going over it.
I was unable to see how my companion could hope to learn.
Anything from it. Still I had had such
extraordinary evidence of the quickness of his perceptive
faculties that I had. No doubt that he could see a
great deal which was hidden from me.
At the door of the house. We were met by a tall white
faced flaxen-haired man. With notebook in his hand who
rushed forward and wrung my companions hand with a fusion.
It is indeed kind of you to come.
He said, I've had everything left untouched except that, my
friend answered pointing at the pathway.
If a herd of buffaloes had passed along the, I could not be
a greater mess. No doubt.
However, you had drawn your own conclusions Gregson.
Will you permitted this? Oh, that's so much to do inside
the house. The detective said, evasively.
My colleague. Mr. Lestrade Isaiah.
I had relied upon him to look after this.
Holmes glanced at me and raised his eyebrows sardonically with
two such men as yourself and lestrade upon the ground.
There will not be much for a third party to find out.
He said Gregson rubbed his hands in a self-satisfied way.
Our think we've done all that can be done.
He answered. It's a queer case though and our
new, your taste for such things. You did not come here in a cab
asked Sherlock Holmes. No, sir.
Nor lestrade. No, sir, then let us go and look
at the room with which inconsequent remarked.
He Strode on into the house, followed by Gregson whose
features expressed his astonishment.
A short passage bear, planked and Dusty led to the kitchen and
office has two doors opened out of it to the left, and to the
right. One of these had obviously been
closed for many weeks, the other belonged to the dining room,
which was the apartment in which the mysterious Affair had
occurred, Holmes walked in. And I followed him with that
subdued feeling at my heart, which the presence of death
inspires. It was a large Square Room,
looking all the larger from the absence of all furniture. a
vulgar flaring paper adorned the walls, but it was blocked in
places with mildew and here and they're great strips had become
detached and hung down exposing the yellow plaster underneath
opposite. The door was a showy fireplace
surmounted by a mantle piece of imitation White marble on one
corner of this was stuck, the stump of a red wax candle, the
solitary window was so dirty that the light was hazy and
uncertain, giving a dull gray tinge to everything which was
intensified by the thick layer of dust which coated the whole
apartment. All these details, I observed
afterwards, at present. My attention was centered upon
the single Grim. Motionless figure, which lay
stretched upon the boards, with vacant sightless eyes staring up
at the discolored ceiling. It was that of a man about forty
three or 44 years of age middle-sized, broad shouldered
with crisp, curling black hair and a short stubbly beard.
He was dressed in a heavy broadcloth, frock coat.
And waistcoat with light colored trousers.
And Immaculate collar and cuffs a top hat.
Well, brushed and trim was placed upon the floor beside
him. His hands were clenched and his
arms thrown abroad. While his lower limbs were
interlocked. As though, this death struggle
have been a grievous one. On his rigid face there stood,
an expression of horror and as it seemed to me, of hatred, such
as I've never seen upon human features.
This malignant and terrible contortion combined with the low
forehead, blunt nose and prognathous jaw gave the dead
man. A singularly simius and ape-like
appearance, which was increased by his writhing, a natural
posture. I've seen death in many forms,
but never has it appeared to me in a more fearsome aspect than
in that dark grimy apartment, which looked out upon one of the
main arteries of suburban London.
Lestrade lean and ferret-like as ever was standing by the doorway
and greeted my companion and myself, this case will make a
stir sir. He remarked it beats anything
I've seen and are now chicken. There is no clue said Gregson,
not at all, chimed in lestrade Sherlock, Holmes approach the
body, and kneeling down, examined it intently.
You are sure. There is no wound.
He asked pointing to numerous gouts and splashes of blood,
which lay all around. Positive dried both Detectives.
Then of course this Blood belongs to a second individual,
presumably the murderer. If murder has been committed.
It reminds me of the circumstances attendant on the
death of Van Jansen in Utrecht in the year. 34.
Do you remember the case Gregson?
Now, sir? I read it up.
You really should? There is nothing new Under the
Sun. It has all been done before.
As he spoke, his Nimble, fingers were flying here, and there, and
everywhere, feeling pressing, unbuttoning, examining while his
eyes were the same far away expression, which I have already
remarked upon. So swiftly was the examination.
Made that one would hardly have guessed the minuteness with
which it was conducted. Finally.
He sniffed the Dead Man's lips. And then glanced at The Souls of
his patent, leather boots. He has not been moved at all.
He asked no more than was necessary for the purposes of
our examination. You can take him to the
mortuary. Now.
He said, there's nothing more to be learned.
Gregson have a stretcher and four men at hand at his call.
They entered the room and the stranger was lifted and carried
out. As I raised him a ring tinkle
down and rolled across the floor, the strad, grabbed it up
and stared at it, with mystified eyes.
This been a woman here. He cried.
It's a woman's wedding ring. He held it out as he spoke upon
the palm of his hand. We all gathered around and gazed
at it. There could be no doubt that the
circlet of plain gold had once adorned the finger of a bride.
This complicates matters said Gregson Ever Knows, they were
complicated enough before. You're sure it doesn't simplify
them. Observed Holmes.
There's nothing to be learned by staring at it.
What did you find in his pockets?
We have it all here. Said Gregson pointing to a
litter of objects upon one of the bottom steps of the stairs
are gold. Watch number 97, 163 by Barrow
of London. Gold, Albert chain, very heavy
in solid gold ring with Masonic device gold pin.
Bulldogs Ed with rubies as eyes Russian leather card case, with
cards of Enoch J. Drebber of Cleveland
corresponding with the ejd upon the linen.
No purse. But Loose money to the extensive
seven pounds 13, pocket edition of boccaccio's Decameron with
name of Joseph stangerson upon the Flyleaf.
Two letters, one address to e, j drebber and 12 Joseph.
Stangerson at what address American Exchange strand to be
left till called for they're both from the Jian steamship
company and refer to the sailing of their boats.
From Liverpool is clear that this unfortunate man was about
to return to New York. Have you made any inquiries as
to this man stangerson? I did it at once.
Said, Gregson, I've had the advertisement sent all.
Newspapers and one of my men has gone to the American Exchange.
Be hasn't returned yet. Have you sent to Cleveland?
We Telegraph this morning. How did you word your inquiries?
Or he simply detailed the circumstances and said that we
should be glad of any information which could help us.
You did not ask for particulars on any point.
Which appeared to you to be crucial.
I asked about stangerson. Nothing else.
Is there? No circumstance on, which this
whole case appears to hinge. Will you not Telegraph again?
I've said all I have to say, said Gregson in an offended
voice. Sherlock Holmes, chuckled to
himself and appear to be about to make some remark when
lestrade who had been in the front room while we were holding
this conversation in the hall. Re appeared upon the scene.
Rubbing his hands in A pompous and self-satisfied manner.
Mr. Gregson. He said I've just made a
discovery of the highest importance and one which would
have been overlooked had. It not been made a careful
examination of the walls. Little man's eyes sparkled as he
spoke and he was evidently in a state of suppressed exultation
at having scored a point against his colleague.
Come here. He said the sling back into the
room, the atmosphere of which felt clearer since the removal
of its ghastly inmate. Now stand there.
He struck a match on his Boot and held it up against the wall.
Look at that. He said triumphantly I've
remarked that the paper had fallen away in Parts.
In this particular corner of the room, a large piece had peeled
off leaving a yellow square, of course Plastering across this
bear space. There was scrawled in blood red
letters, a single word rachel10. You think of that cried a
detective with the air of a showman exhibiting his show.
This was overlooked because it was in the darkest corner of the
room. No one thought look in there.
The murderer is written it with his or her own blood.
See this smear where it was trickle down the wall that
disposes of the idea of suicide. Anyway, why was that corner?
Chosen to write it on. I'll tell you see that.
Kendall on the mantelpiece. It was lit at the time and if it
was lit, this corner would be the brightest instead of the
darkest portion of the wall. And what does it mean?
Now that you have found it, ask Gregson in and appreciate every
voice mean. What means that the writer was
going to put the female named Rachel but was Disturbed before
he or she had time to finish you.
Mark my words when this case comes to be cleared up.
You'll find that a woman named Rachel has something to do with
it. It's all very well for you to
laugh. Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
You may be very smart and clever.
But they all down is the best. When all is said and done.
I really beg, your pardon said my companion who had ruffled the
little man's Temper by bursting into an explosion of laughter.
You certainly have the credit of being, the first of us to find
this out. And as you say it Bears, every
Mark of having been written by the other participant in last
night's mystery. I have not had time to examine
this room yet, but with your permission I shall do so.
Now, As he spoke, he whipped a tape measure and a large, round
magnifying glass from his pocket with these two implements.
He trotted noiselessly about the room, sometimes, stopping
occasionally kneeling and once lying flat upon his face.
So engrossed was he with his occupation.
That he appeared to have forgotten our presence for he
chattered away to himself, under his breath.
The whole time. Keeping up a running fire of
exclamations groans, whistles and little cry.
Is suggestive of encouragement and of Hope.
As I watched him, I was irresistibly reminded of a
pure-blooded well-trained, foxhound as it dashes backwards
and forwards through the covet whining in its eagerness until
it comes across the Lost scent. For 20 minutes or more, he
continued his researches measuring with the most exact
care, the distance between marks which were entirely invisible to
me and occasionally applying his tape to the walls in an equally
incomprehensible manner. In one place, he gathered up
very carefully. A little pile of Grey dust from
the floor and packed it away in an envelope.
Finally. He examined with his glass.
The word upon the wall, going over every letter of it.
With the most minut exactness this done.
He appeared to be satisfied for. He replaced his tape and his
glass in his pocket. They say that genius is an
infinite capacity for taking pains.
He remarked with a smile. It's a very bad definition but
it does apply to detective work Gregson.
And lestrade had watched the maneuvers of their amateur
companion with considerable curiosity and some contempt.
They evidently fail to appreciate the fact which I had
begun to realize that Sherlock Holmes.
Smallest actions were all directed towards some definite
and practical end. What do you think of it?
Sir? They both asked, it would be
robbing you. The credit of the case.
If I was to presume to help you remarks, my friend you are doing
so well, now that it would be a pity for anyone to interfere.
There was a world of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke.
If you will. Let me know how your
investigations go. He continued.
I shall be happy to give you any help.
I can, in the meantime. I should like to speak to the
Constable. Who found the body.
Can you give me his name and address lestrade, glanced at his
notebook? John rants.
He said he's off duty. Now, you'll find him at 46 oddly
Court Kennington Park gate Holmes, took a note of the
address. Come along doctor.
He said we should go and look him up.
I'll tell you one thing which may help you in the case.
He continued turning to the two detectives.
There has been murder done. And the murderer was a man.
He was more than six feet high was in the prime of Life had
small feet, his height War, coarse square-toed boots and
smoked a tricky. Nah belief cigar.
He came here with his victim in a four-wheeled cab, which was
drawn by a horse with three old shoes and one new one on his
off. For leg in all probability.
The murderer, had a florid face and the fingernails of his right
hand were remarkably long. There are only a few
indications, but they may assist you lestrade and Gregson glanced
at each other with an incredulous smile.
If this man was murdered, how was it done?
Ask the former poison said Sherlock Holmes, curtly and
Strode off. One other thing, the strad, he
added turning around at the door.
Arakawa is the German for Revenge.
So don't lose your time. Looking for Miss Rachel.
With which parthian shot, he walked away leaving the two
Rivals open-mouthed behind him. End of chapter 3.