Chapter 6 Tobias Gregson Shows What He Can Do

THE papers next day were full of the "Brixton Mystery," as they termed it. Each had a long account of the affair, and some had leaders upon it in addition. There was some information in them which was new to me. I still retain in my scrap-book numerous clippings and extracts bearing upon the case. Here is a condensation of a few of them:--

The _Daily Telegraph_ remarked that in the history of crime there had seldom been a tragedy which presented stranger features. The German name of the victim, the absence of all other motive, and the sinister inscription on the wall, all pointed to its perpetration by political refugees and revolutionists. The Socialists had many branches in America, and the deceased had, no doubt, infringed their unwritten laws, and been tracked down by them. After alluding airily to the Vehmgericht, aqua tofana, Carbonari, the Marchioness de Brinvilliers, the Darwinian theory, the principles of Malthus, and the Ratcliff Highway murders, the article concluded by admonishing the Government and advocating a closer watch over foreigners in England.

The _Standard_ commented upon the fact that lawless outrages of the sort usually occurred under a Liberal Administration. They arose from the unsettling of the minds of the masses, and the consequent weakening of all authority. The deceased was an American gentleman who had been residing for some weeks in the Metropolis. He had stayed at the boarding-house of Madame Charpentier, in Torquay Terrace, Camberwell. He was accompanied in his travels by his private secretary, Mr. Joseph Stangerson. The two bade adieu to their landlady upon Tuesday, the 4th inst., and departed to Euston Station with the avowed intention of catching the Liverpool express. They were afterwards seen together upon the platform. Nothing more is known of them until Mr. Drebber's body was, as recorded, discovered in an empty house in the Brixton Road, many miles from Euston. How he came there, or how he met his fate, are questions which are still involved in mystery. Nothing is known of the whereabouts of Stangerson. We are glad to learn that Mr. Lestrade and Mr. Gregson, of Scotland Yard, are both engaged upon the case, and it is confidently anticipated that these well-known officers will speedily throw light upon the matter.

The _Daily News_ observed that there was no doubt as to the crime being a political one. The despotism and hatred of Liberalism which animated the Continental Governments had had the effect of driving to our shores a number of men who might have made excellent citizens were they not soured by the recollection of all that they had undergone. Among these men there was a stringent code of honour, any infringement of which was punished by death. Every effort should be made to find the secretary, Stangerson, and to ascertain some particulars of the habits of the deceased. A great step had been gained by the discovery of the address of the house at which he had boarded -- a result which was entirely due to the acuteness and energy of Mr. Gregson of Scotland Yard.

Sherlock Holmes and I read these notices over together at breakfast, and they appeared to afford him considerable amusement.

"I told you that, whatever happened, Lestrade and Gregson would be sure to score."

"That depends on how it turns out."

"Oh, bless you, it doesn't matter in the least. If the man is caught, it will be _on account_ of their exertions; if he escapes, it will be _in spite_ of their exertions. It's heads I win and tails you lose. Whatever they do, they will have followers. `Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire.'"

"What on earth is this?" I cried, for at this moment there came the pattering of many steps in the hall and on the stairs, accompanied by audible expressions of disgust upon the part of our landlady.

"It's the Baker Street division of the detective police force," said my companion, gravely; and as he spoke there rushed into the room half a dozen of the dirtiest and most ragged street Arabs that ever I clapped eyes on.

"'Tention!" cried Holmes, in a sharp tone, and the six dirty little scoundrels stood in a line like so many disreputable statuettes. "In future you shall send up Wiggins alone to report, and the rest of you must wait in the street. Have you found it, Wiggins?"

"No, sir, we hain't," said one of the youths.

"I hardly expected you would. You must keep on until you do. Here are your wages. " He handed each of them a shilling. "Now, off you go, and come back with a better report next time."

He waved his hand, and they scampered away downstairs like so many rats, and we heard their shrill voices next moment in the street.

"There's more work to be got out of one of those little beggars than out of a dozen of the force," Holmes remarked. "The mere sight of an official-looking person seals men's lips. These youngsters, however, go everywhere and hear everything. They are as sharp as needles, too; all they want is organisation."

"Is it on this Brixton case that you are employing them?" I asked.

"Yes; there is a point which I wish to ascertain. It is merely a matter of time. Hullo! we are going to hear some news now with a vengeance! Here is Gregson coming down the road with beatitude written upon every feature of his face. Bound for us, I know. Yes, he is stopping. There he is!"

There was a violent peal at the bell, and in a few seconds the fair-haired detective came up the stairs, three steps at a time, and burst into our sitting-room.

"My dear fellow," he cried, wringing Holmes' unresponsive hand, "congratulate me! I have made the whole thing as clear as day."

A shade of anxiety seemed to me to cross my companion's expressive face.

"Do you mean that you are on the right track?" he asked.

"The right track! Why, sir, we have the man under lock and key."

"And his name is?"

"Arthur Charpentier, sub-lieutenant in Her Majesty's navy," cried Gregson, pompously, rubbing his fat hands and inflating his chest.

Sherlock Holmes gave a sigh of relief, and relaxed into a smile.

"Take a seat, and try one of these cigars," he said. "We are anxious to know how you managed it. Will you have some whiskey and water?"

"I don't mind if I do," the detective answered. "The tremendous exertions which I have gone through during the last day or two have worn me out. Not so much bodily exertion, you understand, as the strain upon the mind. You will appreciate that, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, for we are both brain-workers."

"You do me too much honour," said Holmes, gravely. "Let us hear how you arrived at this most gratifying result."

The detective seated himself in the arm-chair, and puffed complacently at his cigar. Then suddenly he slapped his thigh in a paroxysm of amusement.

"The fun of it is," he cried, "that that fool Lestrade, who thinks himself so smart, has gone off upon the wrong track altogether. He is after the secretary Stangerson, who had no more to do with the crime than the babe unborn. I have no doubt that he has caught him by this time."

The idea tickled Gregson so much that he laughed until he choked.

"And how did you get your clue?"

"Ah, I'll tell you all about it. Of course, Doctor Watson, this is strictly between ourselves. The first difficulty which we had to contend with was the finding of this American's antecedents. Some people would have waited until their advertisements were answered, or until parties came forward and volunteered information. That is not Tobias Gregson's way of going to work. You remember the hat beside the dead man?"

"Yes," said Holmes; "by John Underwood and Sons, 129, Camberwell Road."

Gregson looked quite crest-fallen.

"I had no idea that you noticed that," he said. "Have you been there?"

"No."

"Ha!" cried Gregson, in a relieved voice; "you should never neglect a chance, however small it may seem."

"To a great mind, nothing is little," remarked Holmes, sententiously.

"Well, I went to Underwood, and asked him if he had sold a hat of that size and description. He looked over his books, and came on it at once. He had sent the hat to a Mr. Drebber, residing at Charpentier's Boarding Establishment, Torquay Terrace. Thus I got at his address."

"Smart -- very smart!" murmured Sherlock Holmes.

"I next called upon Madame Charpentier," continued the detective. "I found her very pale and distressed. Her daughter was in the room, too -- an uncommonly fine girl she is, too; she was looking red about the eyes and her lips trembled as I spoke to her. That didn't escape my notice. I began to smell a rat. You know the feeling, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, when you come upon the right scent -- a kind of thrill in your nerves. `Have you heard of the mysterious death of your late boarder Mr. Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleveland?' I asked.

"The mother nodded. She didn't seem able to get out a word. The daughter burst into tears. I felt more than ever that these people knew something of the matter.

"`At what o'clock did Mr. Drebber leave your house for the train?' I asked.

"`At eight o'clock,' she said, gulping in her throat to keep down her agitation. `His secretary, Mr. Stangerson, said that there were two trains -- one at 9.15 and one at 11. He was to catch the first. "

"`And was that the last which you saw of him?'

"A terrible change came over the woman's face as I asked the question. Her features turned perfectly livid. It was some seconds before she could get out the single word `Yes' -- and when it did come it was in a husky unnatural tone.

"There was silence for a moment, and then the daughter spoke in a calm clear voice.

"`No good can ever come of falsehood, mother,' she said. `Let us be frank with this gentleman. We _did_ see Mr. Drebber again.'

"`God forgive you!' cried Madame Charpentier, throwing up her hands and sinking back in her chair. `You have murdered your brother.'

"`Arthur would rather that we spoke the truth,' the girl answered firmly.

"`You had best tell me all about it now,' I said. `Half-confidences are worse than none. Besides, you do not know how much we know of it.'

"`On your head be it, Alice!' cried her mother; and then, turning to me, `I will tell you all, sir. Do not imagine that my agitation on behalf of my son arises from any fear lest he should have had a hand in this terrible affair. He is utterly innocent of it. My dread is, however, that in your eyes and in the eyes of others he may appear to be compromised. That however is surely impossible. His high character, his profession, his antecedents would all forbid it.'

"`Your best way is to make a clean breast of the facts,' I answered. `Depend upon it, if your son is innocent he will be none the worse.'

"`Perhaps, Alice, you had better leave us together,' she said, and her daughter withdrew. `Now, sir,' she continued, `I had no intention of telling you all this, but since my poor daughter has disclosed it I have no alternative. Having once decided to speak, I will tell you all without omitting any particular.'

"`It is your wisest course,' said I.

"`Mr. Drebber has been with us nearly three weeks. He and his secretary, Mr. Stangerson, had been travelling on the Continent. I noticed a "Copenhagen" label upon each of their trunks, showing that that had been their last stopping place. Stangerson was a quiet reserved man, but his employer, I am sorry to say, was far otherwise. He was coarse in his habits and brutish in his ways. The very night of his arrival he became very much the worse for drink, and, indeed, after twelve o'clock in the day he could hardly ever be said to be sober. His manners towards the maid-servants were disgustingly free and familiar. Worst of all, he speedily assumed the same attitude towards my daughter, Alice, and spoke to her more than once in a way which, fortunately, she is too innocent to understand. On one occasion he actually seized her in his arms and embraced her -- an outrage which caused his own secretary to reproach him for his unmanly conduct.'

"`But why did you stand all this,' I asked. `I suppose that you can get rid of your boarders when you wish.'

"Mrs. Charpentier blushed at my pertinent question. `Would to God that I had given him notice on the very day that he came,' she said. `But it was a sore temptation. They were paying a pound a day each -- fourteen pounds a week, and this is the slack season. I am a widow, and my boy in the Navy has cost me much. I grudged to lose the money. I acted for the best. This last was too much, however, and I gave him notice to leave on account of it. That was the reason of his going.'

"`Well?'

"`My heart grew light when I saw him drive away. My son is on leave just now, but I did not tell him anything of all this, for his temper is violent, and he is passionately fond of his sister. When I closed the door behind them a load seemed to be lifted from my mind. Alas, in less than an hour there was a ring at the bell, and I learned that Mr. Drebber had returned. He was much excited, and evidently the worse for drink. He forced his way into the room, where I was sitting with my daughter, and made some incoherent remark about having missed his train. He then turned to Alice, and before my very face, proposed to her that she should fly with him. "You are of age," he said, "and there is no law to stop you. I have money enough and to spare. Never mind the old girl here, but come along with me now straight away. You shall live like a princess." Poor Alice was so frightened that she shrunk away from him, but he caught her by the wrist and endeavoured to draw her towards the door. I screamed, and at that moment my son Arthur came into the room. What happened then I do not know. I heard oaths and the confused sounds of a scuffle. I was too terrified to raise my head. When I did look up I saw Arthur standing in the doorway laughing, with a stick in his hand. "I don't think that fine fellow will trouble us again," he said. "I will just go after him and see what he does with himself." With those words he took his hat and started off down the street. The next morning we heard of Mr. Drebber's mysterious death.'

"This statement came from Mrs. Charpentier's lips with many gasps and pauses. At times she spoke so low that I could hardly catch the words. I made shorthand notes of all that she said, however, so that there should be no possibility of a mistake."

"It's quite exciting," said Sherlock Holmes, with a yawn. "What happened next?"

"When Mrs. Charpentier paused," the detective continued, "I saw that the whole case hung upon one point. Fixing her with my eye in a way which I always found effective with women, I asked her at what hour her son returned.

"`I do not know,' she answered.

"`Not know?'

"`No; he has a latch-key, and he let himself in.'

"`After you went to bed?'

"`Yes.'

"`When did you go to bed?'

"`About eleven.'

"`So your son was gone at least two hours?'

"`Yes.'

"`Possibly four or five?'

"`Yes.'

"`What was he doing during that time?'

"`I do not know,' she answered, turning white to her very lips.

"Of course after that there was nothing more to be done. I found out where Lieutenant Charpentier was, took two officers with me, and arrested him. When I touched him on the shoulder and warned him to come quietly with us, he answered us as bold as brass, `I suppose you are arresting me for being concerned in the death of that scoundrel Drebber,' he said. We had said nothing to him about it, so that his alluding to it had a most suspicious aspect."

"Very," said Holmes.

"He still carried the heavy stick which the mother described him as having with him when he followed Drebber. It was a stout oak cudgel."

"What is your theory, then?"

"Well, my theory is that he followed Drebber as far as the Brixton Road. When there, a fresh altercation arose between them, in the course of which Drebber received a blow from the stick, in the pit of the stomach, perhaps, which killed him without leaving any mark. The night was so wet that no one was about, so Charpentier dragged the body of his victim into the empty house. As to the candle, and the blood, and the writing on the wall, and the ring, they may all be so many tricks to throw the police on to the wrong scent."

"Well done!" said Holmes in an encouraging voice. "Really, Gregson, you are getting along. We shall make something of you yet."

"I flatter myself that I have managed it rather neatly," the detective answered proudly. "The young man volunteered a statement, in which he said that after following Drebber some time, the latter perceived him, and took a cab in order to get away from him. On his way home he met an old shipmate, and took a long walk with him. On being asked where this old shipmate lived, he was unable to give any satisfactory reply. I think the whole case fits together uncommonly well. What amuses me is to think of Lestrade, who had started off upon the wrong scent. I am afraid he won't make much of it. Why, by Jove, here's the very man himself!"

It was indeed Lestrade, who had ascended the stairs while we were talking, and who now entered the room. The assurance and jauntiness which generally marked his demeanour and dress were, however, wanting. His face was disturbed and troubled, while his clothes were disarranged and untidy. He had evidently come with the intention of consulting with Sherlock Holmes, for on perceiving his colleague he appeared to be embarrassed and put out. He stood in the centre of the room, fumbling nervously with his hat and uncertain what to do. "This is a most extraordinary case," he said at last -- "a most incomprehensible affair."

"Ah, you find it so, Mr. Lestrade!" cried Gregson, triumphantly. "I thought you would come to that conclusion. Have you managed to find the Secretary, Mr. Joseph Stangerson?"

"The Secretary, Mr. Joseph Stangerson," said Lestrade gravely, "was murdered at Halliday's Private Hotel about six o'clock this morning."

第六章　托比亚斯·格雷格森显示其能耐

第二天，各家报纸连篇累牍地刊载着所谓"布瑞克斯顿破案"的新闻。每家报纸都有一则长期报道，此外，有的还特别写了社论。其中一些消息连我还没听说过。我的剪贴簿里至今还保存着不少关于这个案子的剪报。现在把它摘录一些附在下面：《每日电讯报》报道说：在犯罪的记录里，再没有比这个悲剧更为离破的案子了。被害人用的是个德国名字，又看不出有什么其他的动机，而且墙上还写下这个狠毒的字样；这一切都说明这是一群亡命的政治犯和革命党所干的。社会党在美国的流派很多，死者无疑是因为触犯了它们的不成文的法律，因而才被追踪到此，遭了毒手。这篇文章简略地提到过去发生的德国秘密法庭案、矿泉案、意大利烧炭党案、布兰威列侯爵夫人案、达尔文理论案、马尔萨斯原理案以及瑞特克利夫公路谋杀案等案件以后，在文章结尾向政府提出忠告，主张今后对于在英外侨，应予以更加严密之监视云云。《旗帜报》评论说：这种无法无天的暴行，常常是在自由党执政下发生的。这些暴行之产生，实由于民心动乱和政府权力削弱之故。死者是一位美国绅士，在伦敦城已盘桓数周之久。生前曾在坎伯韦尔区，陶尔魁里，夏朋婕太太的公寓内住过。他是在他的私人秘书约瑟夫•斯坦节逊先生陪同下作旅行游览的。二人于本月四日星期二辞别女房东后，即去尤斯顿车站，拟搭乘快车去利物浦。当时还有人在车站月台上看见过他们，以后就踪迹不明了。后来，据报载，在离尤斯顿车站数英里远的布瑞斯克顿路的一所空屋中发现了锥伯先生的尸体。他如何到达此处以及如何被害等情况，仍属不可理解的疑团。斯坦节逊下落迄今不明。吾人欣悉，苏格兰场著名侦探雷斯垂德和葛莱森二人同时侦查此案，深信该案不久必有分晓云云。《每日新闻报》报道说：这肯定是一件政治性犯罪。由于大陆各国政府的专制以及对自由主义的憎恨，因而许多人被驱逐到我们国土上来。如果对于他们过去的作为加以宽容不予追究的话，这班人士气有可能变为良好的公民。这些流亡人士之间，有着一种严格的"法规"，一经触犯，必予处死。目前必须竭尽全力寻获他的秘书斯坦节逊，以便查清死者生活习惯中之某些特点。死者生前寄寓伦敦的住址业经获悉，这就使案情向前进展一大步。该项发现，纯系苏格兰场葛莱森先生之机智干练所致云云。

早饭时，福尔摩斯和我一同读完了这些报道；这些报道似乎使他感到非常有趣。

“我早就对你说过，不论情况如何，功劳总归是属于雷斯垂德和葛莱森这两个人的。”

“那也要看结果如何呀。”

“哦，老兄，这才没有一点关系呢。如果凶手捉到了，自然是由于他们两个人的黾勉从公；如果凶手逃跑了，他们又可以说：虽然历尽艰辛，但是……不管怎么说，好事总是他们的，坏事永远归于别人。不管他们干什么，总会有人给他们歌功颂德的。有句法国俗语说得好：‘笨蛋虽笨，但是还有比他更笨的笨蛋为他喝彩。'“

我们正说着，过道里和楼梯上突然响起了一阵杂乱的脚步声，夹杂着房东太太的抱怨声，我不禁喊道：“这是怎么一回事？”

“这是侦缉队贝克街分队。"我的伙伴煞有介事地说。说时，只见六个街头流浪顽童冲将进来，我从来没见过这样十分肮脏、衣裳褴褛的孩子。

“立正！"福尔摩斯厉声喝道。于是这六个小流氓就象六个不象样的小泥人似地一条线地站立在那里。“以后你们叫维金斯一个人上来报告，其余的必须在街上等着。找到了吗，维金斯？”

一个孩子答道：“没有，先生，我们还没有找到呢。”

“我估计你们也没有找到，一定要继续查找，不找到不算完。这是你们的工资，"福尔摩斯每人给了一个先令。"好，现在去吧，下一次报告时，我等着你们带来好消息。”

福尔摩斯挥了挥手，这群孩子就象一窝小耗子似地下楼而去。接着，由街上传来了他们尖锐的喧闹声。

福尔摩斯说：“这些小家伙一个人的工作成绩，要比一打官方侦探的还要来得大。官方人士一露面，人家就闭口不言了。可是，这些小家伙什么地方都能去，什么事都能打听到。他们很机灵，就象针尖一样，无缝不入。他们就是缺乏组织。”

我问道：“你是为了布瑞克斯顿路的这个案子雇的他们吗？”

“是的，有一点我想要弄明白，这只不过是时间问题罢了。啊！现在咱们可就要听到些新闻了！你瞧，葛莱森在街上向着咱们这里走来了。他满脸都是得意的神色，我知道他是上咱们这儿来的。你看，他站住了。就是他！”

门铃一阵猛响，一眨眼的功夫，这位美发的侦探先生就一步三级地跳上楼来，一直闯进了我们的客厅。

“亲爱的朋友，"他紧紧地握着福尔摩斯冷淡的手大声说道，“给我道喜吧！我已经把这个案子弄得象大天白日一样地清清楚楚了。”

我似乎看出，在福尔摩斯善于表情的脸上，掠过一丝焦急的暗影。

他问道：“你是说你已经搞顺手了吗？”

“对了！真是的，我的老兄，连凶手都捉到了！”

“那么他叫什么名字？”

“阿瑟•夏朋婕，是皇家海军的一个中尉，"葛莱森一面得意地搓着他的一双胖手，一面挺起胸脯傲慢地大声说。

福尔摩斯听了这话以后，才如释重负地松了一口气，不觉微笑起来。

“请坐，抽支雪茄烟罢。"他说，“我们很想知道你是怎么办的。喝点儿加水威士忌吗？”

“喝点儿就喝点儿吧，"这位侦探回答说，“这两天费了不少劲儿，可把我累坏了。你明白，体力劳动虽说不多，可是脑子紧张得厉害。个中甘苦你是知道的，福尔摩斯先生，因为咱们都是干的用脑子的活儿。”

福尔摩斯一本正经地说：“你太过奖了。让我们听听，你是怎样获得这样一个可喜可贺的成绩的。”

这位侦探在扶手椅上坐了下来，洋洋自得地一口口地吸着雪茄，忽地拍了一下大腿高兴地说道：

“真可笑，雷斯垂德这个傻瓜，他还自以为高明呢，可是他完全搞错了。他正在寻找那位秘书斯坦节逊的下落呢。这个家伙就象一个没有出世的孩子一样地和这个案子根本就没有关系。我敢断言，他现在多半已经捉到那个家伙了。”

他讲到这里得意地呵呵大笑，直笑得喘不过起来。

“那么，你是怎样得到线索的呢？”

“啊，我全部告诉你们。当然喽，华生医生，这是绝对秘密的，只有咱们自己之间可以谈谈。首先必须克服的困难就是要查明这个美国人的来历。有些人也许要登登广告，等待人们前来报告，或者等着死者生前的亲朋好友出来，自动报告一些消息。葛莱森的工作方法却不是这样的。你还记得死者身旁的那顶帽子吗？”

“记得，"福尔摩斯说道，“那是从坎伯韦尔路号的约翰•安德乌父子帽店买来的。”

葛莱森听了这话，脸上立刻显出非常沮丧的神情。他说：

“想不到你也注意到这一点了。你到那家帽店去过没有。”

“没有。”

“哈！"葛莱森放下了心，“不管看来可能多么小，你也决不应该把任何机会放过。”

“对于一个伟大人物来说，任何事物都不是微不足道的。”福尔摩斯象在引用什么至理名言似地说。

“好，我找到了店主安德乌，我问他是不是卖过一顶这么大号码、这个式样的帽子。他们查了查售货簿，很快地就查到了，这顶帽子是送到一位住在陶尔魁里，夏朋婕公寓的住客锥伯先生处的。这样我就找到了这个人的住址。”

“漂亮，干得很漂亮！"福尔摩斯低声称赞着。

“我跟着就去拜访了夏朋婕太太，"这位侦探接着说，“我发现她的脸色非常苍白，她的神情十分不安。她的女儿也在房里——她真是一位非常漂亮的姑娘。当我和她谈话的时候，她的眼睛红红的，嘴唇不住地颤抖。这些自然都逃不过我的眼睛。于是我就开始怀疑起来。福尔摩斯先生，你是懂得的，当你发现正确线索时，那是一股什么劲儿，只觉得混身舒畅得使人发抖。我就问道：‘你们听到你们以前的房客克利夫兰城的锥伯先生被人暗杀的消息了吗？”

“这位太太点了点头，她似乎连话都说不出来了。她的女儿却不禁流下眼泪来。我越看越觉得他们对于这个案情必有所知。

“我问道：‘锥伯先生几点钟离开你们这里去车站的？”

“八点钟，'她不住地咽着唾沫，压抑着激动的情绪说，'他的秘书斯坦节逊先生说：有两班去利物浦的火车，一班是九点十五分，一班是十一点。他是赶第一班火车的。”

“这是你们最后一次见面吗？”

“我一提出这个问题，那个女人倏地一下变得面无人色。好大一会功夫，她才回答说：‘是最后一次。'可是她说话的时候声音沙哑，极不自然。

“沉默了一会以后，这位姑娘开口了。她的态度很镇静，口齿也很清楚。

“她说：‘说谎是没有什么好处的，妈妈，咱们跟这位先生还是坦白地说好了。后来我们的确又见到过锥伯先生。”

“愿上帝饶恕你！'夏朋婕太太双手一伸，喊了一声，就向后倚在椅背上了，‘你可害了你的哥哥了！”

“阿瑟一定也愿意咱们说实话。'这位姑娘坚决地回答说。

“我就说道：‘你们现在最好还是全部告诉我吧。这样吞吞吐吐的，还不如根本不谈。况且，你们也不知道我们究竟掌握了多少情况呢。”

“都是你，爱莉丝！'她妈妈高声地说，一面又转过身来对我说，‘我通通告诉你吧，先生。你不要以为，一提起我的儿子我就着急，是因为他和这个人命案子有什么关系。他完全是清白无罪的。可是我顾虑的是，在你们或是别人看来，他似乎是有嫌疑的。但是，这是绝不可能的。他的高贵气质、他的职业、他的过去都能证明这一点。”

“我说：‘你最好还是把事实和盘托出。相信我好啦，如果你的儿子真是清白无罪，他绝不会受到什么委屈的。”

“她说：‘爱莉丝，你最好出去一下，让我们两个人谈吧。”于是她的女儿就走了出去。她接着说：‘唉，先生，我原不想把这些告诉你，可是我的女儿已经说破，现在已经没有别的法子，我也只好说出来吧。我既然打算说，那就一点也不保留。”

“我说：‘这才是真聪明呢。”

“锥伯先生在我们这里差不多住了三个星期。他和他的秘书斯坦节逊先生一直是在欧洲大陆旅行的。我看到他们每只箱子上都贴有哥本哈根的标签，由此可见那是他们最后到过的地方。斯坦节逊倒是一个沉默寡言、有涵养的人；可是他的主人——真糟糕，完全不一样。这个人举止粗野，行为下流。在他们搬来的当天晚上，锥伯就喝得大醉，直到第二天中午十二点钟还没有清醒过来。他对女仆们态度轻佻、下流，简直令人厌恶极了。最糟糕的是，他竟然又用这样的态度来对待我的女儿爱莉丝。他不止一次地对她胡说八道。幸好，女儿太年轻，还不懂事。有一次，他居然把我的女儿抱在怀里，紧紧地搂着她。他这种无法无天的做法，就连他的秘书都骂他行为太下流，简直不是个人。”

“可是，你为什么还要忍受这些呢？'我问道，‘我想，只要你愿意，你尽可以将房客撵走。”

“夏朋婕太太经我这么一问，不觉满脸通红，她说：‘要是在他来的那天我就拒绝了，那该有多好。可是，就是因为有个诱人之处。他们每人每天房租是一镑，一个星期就是十四镑；况且现在正是客人稀少的淡季。我是个寡妇，我的儿子在海军里服务，他的花费很大。我实在舍不得白白放过这笔收入，于是我就尽量容忍下来。可是，最近这一次，他闹的太不象话了，因此我才据理把他撵走，这就是他们搬走的原因。”

“‘后来呢？”

“后来我看他坐车走了，心里才轻松下来。我的儿子现在正在休假。可是，这些事我一点都没有告诉过他，因为他的脾气暴躁，而且他又非常疼爱他的妹妹。这两个人搬走以后，我关上了大门，心里才算去了一个大疙瘩。天啊，还不到一个钟头，又有人叫门，原来是锥伯又回来了。他的样子很兴奋，显然又喝得不少。他一头闯进房来，当时我和我的女儿正在房里坐着；他就驴唇不对马嘴地说什么他没有赶上火车。后来，他冲着爱莉丝，他竟敢当着我的面和爱莉丝说起话来，并建议她和他一起逃走。他对我女儿说：‘你已经长大成人了，任何法律也不能管你了。我有的是钱，不必管这个老妻子了。现在马上跟我走吧。你可以象公主一样地享福。'可怜的爱莉丝非常害怕，一直躲着他。可是他一把抓住她的手腕，硬往门口拉，我吓得大叫起来。就在这个时候，我的儿子阿瑟走了进来。以后发生的事，我就不知道了。我只听到又是叫骂又是扭打，乱成一起，可把我吓坏了，吓得我连头都不敢抬。后来抬起头来一看，只见阿瑟站在门口大笑，手里拿着一根木棍。阿瑟说：我想这个活宝再不会来找咱们的麻烦了。让我出去跟着他，看看他到底干些什么。说完这话，他就拿起帽子，向街头跑去。第二天早晨，我们就听到了锥伯先生被人谋杀的消息。”

“这就是夏朋婕太太亲口说的话。她说时喘一阵，停一阵。有时她说话的声音非常低，我简直听不清楚。可是，我把她所说的话全都速记下来了，决不会有什么差错的。”

福尔摩斯打了一个呵欠，说道：“这的确很动听。后来又怎么样了？”

这位侦探又说了下去：“夏朋婕太太停下来的时候，我看出了全案关键的所在。于是，我就用一种对待妇女行之有效的眼神紧盯着她，追问她儿子回家的时刻。

“我不知道。'她回答说。

“不知道？”

“实在不知道。他有一把弹簧锁的钥匙，他自己会开门进来的。”

“你睡了以后他才回来的吗？”

“是的。”

“你几点钟睡的？”

“大概是十一点。”

“这样说来，你的儿子最少出去有两个小时了。”

“是的。”

“可不可能出去了四、五个小时？”

“也有可能。”

“在这几个钟头里他都干了些什么？”

“我不知道。'她回答说，说时嘴唇都白了。

“当然，说到这里，别的就用不着多问了。我找到夏朋其中尉的下落之后就带着两个警官，把他逮捕了。当我拍拍他的肩头，警告他老老实实跟我们走的时候，他竟肆无忌惮地说：‘我想你们抓我，是认为我和那个坏蛋锥伯的被杀有关吧。'我们并没有向他提起这件事，他倒是自己先说出来了，这就更令人觉得可疑了。”

“十分可疑。"福尔摩斯说。

“那时他还拿着她母亲所说的追击锥伯用的那个大棒子。是一根很结实的橡木棍子。”

“那么你的高见如何？”

“啊，根据我的看法，他追锥伯一直追到了布瑞克斯顿路。这时他们又争吵起来。争吵之间，锥伯挨了狠狠的一棒子，也许正打在心窝上，所以虽然送了命，却没有留下任何伤痕。当夜雨很大，附近又没有人。于是夏朋婕就把尸首拖到那所空屋里去。至于蜡烛、血迹、墙上的字迹和戒指等等，不过是想把警察引入迷途的一些花招罢了。”

福尔摩斯以称赞的口气说：“做得好！葛莱森，你实在大有长进，看来你迟早会出人头地的。”

这位侦探骄傲地答道：“我自己认为，这件事办得总算干净利落。可是这个小伙子自己却供称：他追了一程以后，锥伯发觉了他，于是就坐上了一部马车逃走了。他在回家的路上，遇到了一位过去船上的老同事，他陪着这位老同事走了很久。可是问到他这位老同事的住址时，他的回答并不能令人满意。我认为这个案子的情节前后非常吻合。好笑的是雷斯垂德，他一开始就走上了歧途。我恐怕他不会有什么成绩的。嘿！正说他，他就来了。”

进来的人果然是雷斯垂德。我们谈话的时候，他已经上了楼，跟着就走进屋来。平常，无论从他的外表行动，还是衣着上，都看得出来的那种扬扬自得和信心百倍的气派，现在都消逝不见了。只见他神色慌张，愁容满面，衣服也凌乱不堪。他到这里来，显然是有事要向福尔摩斯求教的，因为当他一看到他的同事便显得忸怩不安，手足无措起来。他站在房子中间，两手不住地摆弄着帽子。最后，他说道：“这的确是个非常离破的案子，一件不可思议的怪事。”

葛莱森得意地说道：“啊，你也这样看吗，雷斯垂德先生？我早就知道你会得出这样结论的。你已经找到那个秘书先生斯坦节逊了吗？”

雷斯垂德心情沉重地说：“那位秘书斯坦节逊先生，今天早晨六点钟左右在郝黎代旅馆被人暗杀了。”