THE BLUE CARBUNCLE
I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the compliments compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a purple dressing gown, a pipe rack within his reach upon the right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently evidently newly studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disreputable hard felt hat, much the worse for wear worse for wear and cracked in several several places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair suggested that the hat had been suspended suspended in this manner for the purpose of examination. "You are engaged," engaged," said I; "perhaps "perhaps I interrupt interrupt you."
"Not at all. I am glad glad to have a friend with whom I can dis cuss my results. The matter is a perfectly trivial trivial one"—he jerked jerked his thumb in the direction of the old hat—"but there are points in connection with it which are not entirely entirely devoid devoid of interest and even of instruction."
I seated myself in his armchair and warmed warmed my hands before his crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in, and the windows were thick with the ice crystals. "I suppose," I remarked, "that, homely homely as it looks, this thing has some deadly story linked on to it—that it is the clue which will guide you in the solution of some mystery mystery and the punishment of some crime."
"No, no. No crime," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "Only one of those whimsical whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four million human beings all jostling jostling each other within the space of a few square miles. Amid Amid the action and re action of so dense dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking striking and bizarre bizarre without being criminal. We have already had experience of such." "So much so," I remarked, "that of the last six cases which I have added to added to my notes, three have been entirely entirely free of any legal crime."
"Precisely. "Precisely. You allude to allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler papers, to the singular singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and to the adventure of the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt that this small matter will fall into the same innocent category. category. You know Peterson, the commissionaire?” "Yes." "It is to him that this trophy belongs." belongs." "It is his hat."
"No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will look upon it not as a battered battered billycock but as an intellectual problem. And, first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon Christmas morning, in company with a good fat goose, which is, I have no doubt, roasting at this moment in front of Peterson's fire. The facts are these: about four o'clock on Christmas morning, Peterson, who, as you know, is a very honest fellow, was returning from some small jollification and was making his way homeward down Tottenham Court Road. In front of him he saw, in the gaslight, a tallish man, walking with a slight stagger, stagger, and carrying a white goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the corner of Goodge Street, a row broke out broke out between this stranger stranger and a little knot of roughs. One of the latter latter knocked off knocked off the man's hat, on which he raised raised his stick to stick to defend defend himself and, swinging it over his head, smashed smashed the shop window behind behind him. Peterson had rushed rushed forward to protect protect the stranger stranger from his assailants; but the man, shocked at having broken the window, and seeing an official looking person in uniform uniform rushing rushing towards him, dropped his goose, took to his heels, and vanished vanished amid amid the labyrinth labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham Court Road. The roughs had also fled fled at the appearance appearance of Peterson, so that he was left in left in possession possession of the field of battle, and also of the spoils of victory in the shape of this battered battered hat and a most unimpeachable unimpeachable Christmas goose."
"Which surely he restored to their owner?" "My dear fellow, there lies the problem. It is true that 'For Mrs. Henry Baker' was printed upon a small card which was tied to the bird's left leg, and it is also true that the initials initials 'H. B.' are legible legible upon the lining of this hat, but as there are some thousands of Bakers, and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in this city of ours, it is not easy to restore lost property to any one of them."
"What, then, did Peterson do?" "He brought round both hat and goose to me on Christmas morning, knowing that even the smallest problems are of interest to me. The goose we retained retained until this morning, when there were signs that in signs that in spite spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it should be eaten without unnecessary unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried it off, therefore, to fulfil fulfil the ultimate ultimate destiny destiny of a goose, while I continue to retain retain the hat of the unknown gentle man who lost his Christmas dinner." "Did he not advertise?" "No." "Then, what clue could you have as to his identity?" "Only as much as we can deduce." deduce." "From his hat?" "Precisely." "Precisely." "But you are joking. What can you gather gather from this old battered battered felt?"
"Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you gather gather yourself as to the individuality of the man who has worn this article?" I took the tattered object in my hands and turned it over turned it over rather rather ruefully. It was a very ordinary black hat of the usual usual round shape, hard and much the worse for wear worse for wear The lining had been of red silk, but was a good deal discoloured. There was no maker's name; but, as Holmes had remarked, the initials initials "H. B." were scrawled upon one side. It was pierced pierced in the brim brim for a hat securer, but the elastic was missing. For the rest, it was cracked, exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several several places, although there seemed seemed to have been some attempt to hide hide the discoloured patches by smearing them with ink. "I can see nothing," said I, handing it back handing it back to my friend. "On the contrary, contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, however, to reason from what you see. You are too timid timid in drawing your inferences."
"Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer from infer from this hat?" He picked it up and gazed gazed at it in the peculiar peculiar introspective introspective fashion which was characteristic characteristic of him. "It is perhaps perhaps less suggestive than it might have been," he remarked, "and yet there are a few inferences which are very distinct, distinct, and a few others which represent represent at least a strong balance of probability. That the man was highly intellectual is of course obvious obvious upon the face of it, and also that he was fairly well to do within the last three years, although he has now fallen upon evil evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly, formerly, pointing to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline decline of his for tunes, seems seems to indicate indicate some evil evil influence, probably probably drink, at work upon him. This may account also for account also for the obvious obvious fact that his wife has ceased ceased to love him."
"My dear Holmes!" "He has, however, retained retained some degree of self respect," he continued, disregarding disregarding my remonstrance. remonstrance. "He is a man who leads a sedentary sedentary life, goes out goes out little, is out of training entirely, entirely, is middle aged, has grizzled grizzled hair which he has had cut within the last few days, and which he anoints anoints with lime cream. These are the more patent patent facts which are to be deduced deduced from his hat. Also, by the way, that it is extremely extremely improbable that he has gas laid on in his house." "You are certainly certainly joking, Holmes."
"Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, when I give you these results, you are unable unable to see how they are attained?" "I have no doubt that I am very stupid, but I must confess confess that I am unable unable to follow you. For example, how did you de duce that this man was intellectual?" For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right over the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. "It is a question of cubic capacity," said he; "a man with so large a brain must have something in it."
"The decline decline of his fortunes, then?" "This hat is three years old. These flat brims brims curled at the edge came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band of ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this man could afford afford to buy so expensive expensive a hat three years ago, and has had no hat since, then he has assuredly gone down gone down in the world."
"Well, that is clear enough, certainly. certainly. But how about the foresight and the moral retrogression?" Sherlock Holmes laughed. "Here is the foresight," said he putting his finger upon the little disc and loop of the hat se curer. "They are never sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a sign of a certain certain amount amount of foresight, since he went out went out of his way to take this precaution precaution against the wind. But since we see that he has broken the elastic and has not troubled to replace it, it is obvious obvious that he has less foresight now than formerly, formerly, which is a distinct distinct proof of a weakening nature. On the other hand On the other hand he has endeavoured endeavoured to conceal conceal some of these stains stains upon the felt by daubing them with ink, which is a sign that he has not entirely entirely lost his self respect." "Your reasoning is certainly certainly plausible." plausible."
"The further further points, that he is middle aged, that his hair is grizzled, grizzled, that it has been recently cut, and that he uses lime cream, are all to be gathered gathered from a close examination of the lower part of the lining. The lens discloses discloses a large number of hair ends, clean cut by the scissors of the barber. They all appear appear to be adhesive, and there is a distinct distinct odour of lime cream. This dust, you will observe, is not the gritty, grey dust of the street but the fluffy brown dust of the house, showing that it has been hung up hung up indoors most of the time, while the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof positive that the wearer perspired very freely, and could therefore, hardly hardly be in the best of training." "But his wife—you said that she had ceased ceased to love him." "This hat has not been brushed for weeks.
When I see you, my dear Watson, with a week's accumulation accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when your wife allows you to go out go out in such a state, I shall fear that you also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife's affection." affection." "But he might be a bachelor." "Nay, he was bringing home the goose as a peace offering to his wife. Remember the card upon the bird's leg."
"You have an answer to everything. But how on earth do you deduce deduce that the gas is not laid on in his house?" "One tallow stain, stain, or even two, might come by chance; but when I see no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt that the individual must be brought into frequent frequent contact with burning tallow—walks upstairs at night probably probably with his hat in one hand and a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never got tallow stains stains from a gas jet. Are you satisfied?" "Well, it is very ingenious," ingenious," said I, laughing; "but since, as you said just now, there has been no crime committed, and no harm done save the loss of a goose, all this seems seems to be rather rather a waste of energy."
Sherlock Holmes had opened his mouth to reply, when the door flew open, and Peterson, the commissionaire, rushed into rushed into the apartment with flushed cheeks and the face of a man who is dazed dazed with astonishment. astonishment. "The goose, Mr. Holmes! The goose, sir!" he gasped. gasped.
"Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to returned to life and flapped off through the kitchen window?" Holmes twisted himself round upon the sofa to get a fairer view of the man's excited excited face. "See here, sir! See what my wife found in its crop!" He held out his hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly scintillating scintillating blue stone, rather rather smaller than a bean in size, but of such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric point in the dark in the dark hollow hollow of his hand.
Sherlock Holmes sat up with a whistle. "By Jove, Peterson!" said he, "this is treasure trove indeed. indeed. I suppose you know what you have got?" "A diamond, sir? A precious stone. It cuts into glass as though it were putty." "It's more than a precious stone. It is the precious stone." "Not the Countess of Morcar's blue carbuncle!" I ejaculated. ejaculated. "Precisely "Precisely so. I ought to know its size and shape, seeing that. I have read the advertisement about it in The Times every day lately. It is absolutely absolutely unique, unique, and its value can only be conjectured, conjectured, but the reward offered of 1000 pounds pounds is certainly certainly not within a twentieth part of the market price." "A thousand pounds! pounds! Great Lord of mercy!" The commissionaire plumped down into a chair and stared stared from one to the other of us. "That is the reward, and I have reason to know that there are sentimental considerations considerations in the background which would in duce the Countess to part with part with half her fortune if she could but recover the gem."
"It was lost, if I remember aright, at the Hotel Cosmopolitan," Cosmopolitan," I remarked. "Precisely "Precisely so, on December 22nd, just five days ago. John Horner, a plumber, was accused accused of having abstracted abstracted it from the lady's jewel case. The evidence evidence against him was so strong that the case has been referred referred to the Assizes. I have some ac count of the matter here, I believe." He rummaged amid amid his newspapers, glancing glancing over the dates, until at last he smoothed one out, doubled it over, and read the following paragraph
"Hotel Cosmopolitan Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery. John Horner, 26, plumber, was brought up upon the charge of having upon the 22nd inst., abstracted abstracted from the jewel case of the Countess of Morcar the valuable valuable gem known as known as the blue carbuncle. James Ryder, upper attendant at the hotel, gave his evidence evidence to the effect effect that he had shown Horner up to the dressing room of the Countess of Morcar upon the day of the robbery in order that he might solder the second bar of the grate, which was loose. loose. He had remained remained with Horner some little time, but had finally been called away On called away On returning, he found that Horner had dis appeared, appeared, that the bureau had been forced open, and that the small morocco casket in which, as it afterwards transpired, transpired, the Countess was accustomed accustomed to keep her jewel, was lying empty upon the dressing table. Ryder instantly gave the alarm, alarm, and Horner was arrested the same evening; but the stone could not be found either upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine Cu sack, sack, maid to the Countess, deposed to having heard Ryder's cry of dismay dismay on discovering the robbery, and to having rushed into rushed into the room, where she found matters as described described by the last witness. witness. Inspector Bradstreet, B division, gave evidence evidence as to the arrest of Horner, who struggled frantically, frantically, and pro tested his innocence in the strongest terms. Evidence Evidence of a previous conviction conviction for robbery having been given against the prisoner, the magistrate refused refused to deal summarily with deal summarily with the of fence, but referred referred it to the Assizes. Horner, who had shown signs of intense emotion during the proceedings, fainted fainted away at the conclusion and was carried out carried out of court."
"Hum! So much for the police court," said Holmes thought fully, tossing aside aside the paper. "The question for us now to solve is the sequence sequence of events leading from a rifled jewel case at one end to the crop of a goose in Tottenham Court Road at the other. You see, Watson, our little deductions have suddenly assumed a much more important and less innocent aspect. Here is the stone; the stone came from the goose, and the goose came from Mr. Henry Baker, the gentleman with the bad hat and all the other characteristics characteristics with which I have bored you. So now we must set ourselves very seriously to finding this gentleman and ascertaining ascertaining what part he has played in this little mystery. mystery. To do this, we must try the simplest means means first, and these lie undoubtedly in an advertisement in all the evening papers. If this fail, I shall have recourse recourse to other methods."
"What will you say?" "Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Now, then: 'Found at the corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. Henry Baker can have the same by applying at 6:30 this evening at 221B, Baker Street.' That is clear and concise." concise."
"Very. But will he see it?" "Well, he is sure to keep an eye on keep an eye on the papers, since, to a poor man, the loss was a heavy one. He was clearly so scared by his mischance in breaking the window and by the approach approach of Peterson that he thought of thought of nothing but flight, but since then he must have bitterly bitterly regretted the impulse which caused him to drop his bird. Then, again, the introduction of his name will cause him to see it, for everyone who knows him will direct his attention to it. Here you are, Peterson, run down to the advertising agency and have this put in the evening papers."
"In which, sir?" "Oh, in the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St. James's, Evening News, Standard, Echo, and any others that occur to occur to you." "Very well, sir. And this stone?" "Ah, yes, I shall keep the stone. Thank you. And, I say, Peterson, just buy a goose on your way back and leave it here with me, for we must have one to give to this gentleman in place of the one which your family is now devouring." devouring."
When the commissionaire had gone, Holmes took up took up the stone and held it against held it against the light. "It's a bonny thing," said he. "Just see how it glints and sparkles. sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and focus of crime. Every good stone is. They are the devil's pet baits. baits. In the larger and older jewels every facet facet may stand for stand for a bloody deed. deed. This stone is not yet twenty years old. It was found in the banks of the Amoy River in southern China and is remarkable remarkable in having every characteristic characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is blue in shade instead of ruby red. In spite spite of its youth, it has already a sinister sinister history. There have been two murders, a vitriol throwing, a suicide, and several several robberies brought about brought about for the sake sake of this forty grain weight of crystallised charcoal. Who would think that so pretty a toy would be a purveyor purveyor to the gallows and the prison? I'll lock it up lock it up in my strong box now and drop a line to the Countess to say that we have it." "Do you think that this man Horner is innocent?" "I cannot tell."
"Well, then, do you imagine that this other one, Henry Baker, had anything to do with the matter?" "It is, I think, much more likely that Henry Baker is an absolutely absolutely innocent man, who had no idea that the bird which he was carrying was of considerably more value than if it were made of solid gold. That, however, I shall determine determine by a very simple test if we have an answer to our advertisement." "And you can do nothing until then?" "Nothing."
"In that case I shall continue my professional round. But I shall come back come back in the evening at the hour you have mentioned, mentioned, for I should like to see the solution of so tangled a business." "Very glad glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I believe. By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps perhaps I ought to ask Mrs. Hudson to examine its crop."
I had been delayed at a case, and it was a little after half past six when I found myself in Baker Street once more. As I approached approached the house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a coat which was buttoned up to his chin waiting outside in the bright semicircle which was thrown from the fanlight. Just as I arrived the door was opened, and we were shown up together to Holmes' room.
"Mr. Henry Baker, I believe," said he, rising from his arm chair and greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which he could so readily assume. "Pray take this chair by the fire, Mr. Baker. It is a cold night, and I observe that your circulation circulation is more adapted adapted for summer than for winter. Ah, Watson, you have just come at the right time. Is that your hat, Mr. Baker?" "Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat."
He was a large man with rounded shoulders, a massive massive head, and a broad, broad, intelligent face, sloping down to a pointed beard of grizzled grizzled brown. A touch of red in nose and cheeks, with a slight tremor tremor of his extended extended hand, recalled recalled Holmes' surmise surmise as to his habits. His rusty black frock coat was buttoned right up in front, with the collar turned up turned up and his lank wrists protruded from his sleeves without a sign of cuff or shirt. He spoke in a slow staccato staccato fashion, choosing his words with care, and gave the impression generally of a man of learning and letters who had had ill usage at the hands of fortune. "We have retained retained these things for some days," said Holmes, "because we expected to see an advertisement from you giving your address. address. I am at a loss to know now why you did not advertise."
Our visitor gave a rather rather shamefaced laugh. "Shillings have not been so plentiful plentiful with me as they once were," he remarked. "I had no doubt that the gang of roughs who assaulted assaulted me had carried off both my hat and the bird. I did not care to spend more money in a hopeless attempt at recovering them." "Very naturally. By the way, about the bird, we were compelled compelled to eat it." "To eat it!" Our visitor half rose from his chair in his excitement.
"Yes, it would have been of no use to anyone had we not done so. But I presume presume that this other goose upon the sideboard, which is about the same weight and perfectly fresh, will answer your purpose equally well?" "Oh, certainly, certainly, certainly," certainly," answered Mr. Baker with a sigh of relief.
"Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop, and so on of your own bird, so if you wish—" The man burst into a hearty laugh. "They might be useful to me as relics of my adventure," said he, "but beyond beyond that I can hardly hardly see what use the disjecta membra of my late acquaintance acquaintance are going to be to me. No, sir, I think that, with your per mission, I will confine confine my attentions to the excellent bird which I perceive perceive upon the sideboard."
Sherlock Holmes glanced glanced sharply across at me with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "There is your hat, then, and there your bird," said he. "By the way, would it bore bore you to tell me where you got the other one from? I am somewhat somewhat of a fowl fancier, and I have seldom seldom seen a better grown goose." "Certainly, "Certainly, sir," said Baker, who had risen and tucked his newly gained property under his arm. "There are a few of us who frequent frequent the Alpha Inn, near the Museum—we are to be found in the Museum itself during the day, you understand. This year our good host, Windigate by name, instituted a goose club, by which, on consideration consideration of some few pence every week, we were each to receive a bird at Christmas. My pence were duly paid, and the rest is familiar to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for a Scotch bonnet is fitted neither to my years nor my gravity." gravity." With a comical pomposity pomposity of manner he bowed bowed solemnly solemnly to both of us and strode strode off upon his way. "So much for Mr. Henry Baker," said Holmes when he had closed the door behind behind him. "It is quite quite certain certain that he knows nothing whatever about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson?" "Not particularly." particularly." "Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow up follow up this clue while it is still hot." "By all means." means."
It was a bitter bitter night, so we drew on drew on our ulsters and wrapped wrapped cravats cravats about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly in a cloudless sky, and the breath of the passers by blew out blew out into smoke like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out crisply and loudly as we swung through the doctors' quarter, Wimpole Street, Harley Street, and so through Wigmore Street into Oxford Street. In a quarter of an hour we were in Blooms Blooms bury at the Alpha Inn, which is a small public house at the corner of one of the streets which runs down into Holborn. Holmes pushed open the door of the private bar and ordered two glasses of beer from the ruddy faced, white aproned landlord. "Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as your geese," said he. "My geese!" The man seemed seemed surprised. "Yes. I was speaking only half an hour ago to Mr. Henry Baker, who was a member of your goose club." "Ah! yes, I see. But you see, sir, them's not our geese." "Indeed! "Indeed! Whose, then?" "Well, I got the two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden." "Indeed? "Indeed? I know some of know some of them. Which was it?" "Breckinridge is his name." "Ah! I don't know him. Well, here's your good health land lord, and prosperity prosperity to your house. Good night."
"Now for Mr. Breckinridge," he continued, buttoning up his coat as we came out into the frosty air. "Remember, Watson that though we have so homely homely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we have at the other a man who will certainly certainly get seven years' penal servitude servitude unless we can establish establish his innocence. It is possible that our inquiry inquiry may but confirm confirm his guilt; but, in any case in any case we have a line of investigation which has been missed by the police, and which a singular singular chance has placed in our hands. Let Let us follow it out to the bitter bitter end. Faces to the south, then, and quick march!"
We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street, and so through a zigzag of slums to Covent Garden Market. One of the largest stalls stalls bore bore the name of Breckinridge upon it, and the proprietor a horsey looking man, with a sharp face and trim side whiskers was helping a boy to put up the shutters. "Good evening. It's a cold night," said Holmes.
The salesman nodded nodded and shot a questioning glance glance at my companion. companion. "Sold out of geese, I see," continued Holmes, pointing at the bare slabs of marble. "Let "Let you have five hundred to morrow morning." "That's no good." "Well, there are some on the stall stall with the gas flare." "Ah, but I was recommended to you." "Who by?" "The landlord of the Alpha." "Oh, yes; I sent him a couple couple of dozen." "Fine birds they were, too. Now where did you get them from?" To my surprise the question provoked provoked a burst of anger from the salesman. "Now, then, mister," said he, with his head cocked and his arms akimbo, akimbo, "what are you driving at? Let's have it straight, now." "It is straight enough. I should like to know who sold you the geese which you supplied to the Alpha." "Well then, I shan't tell you. So now! "Oh, it is a matter of no importance; but I don't know why you should be so warm warm over such a trifle." trifle."
"Warm! "Warm! You'd be as warm, warm, maybe, if you were as pestered as I am. When I pay good money for a good article there should be an end of the business; but it's 'Where are the geese?' and 'Who did you sell the geese to?' and 'What will you take for the geese?' One would think they were the only geese in the world, to hear the fuss that is made over them."
"Well, I have no connection with any other people who have been making inquiries," inquiries," said Holmes carelessly. "If you won't tell us the bet is off, that is all. But I'm always ready to back my opinion opinion on a matter of fowls, and I have a fiver on it that the bird I ate is country bred." "Well, then, you've lost your fiver, for it's town bred," snapped the salesman. "It's nothing of the kind." "I say it is." "I don't believe it." "D'you think you know more about fowls than I, who have handled handled them ever since I was a nipper? I tell you, all those birds that went to the Alpha were town bred."
"You'll never persuade persuade me to believe that." "Will you bet, then?" "It's merely merely taking your money, for I know that I am right. But I'll have a sovereign sovereign on with you, just to teach you not to be obstinate." obstinate." The salesman chuckled grimly. grimly. "Bring me the books, Bill," said he. The small boy brought round a small thin volume and a great greasy backed one, laying them out together beneath beneath the hanging lamp.
"Now then, Mr. Cocksure," said the salesman, "I thought that I was out of geese, but before I finish you'll find that there is still one left in left in my shop. You see this little book?" "Well?" "That's the list of the folk from whom I buy. D'you see? Well, then, here on this page are the country folk, and the numbers after their names are where their accounts are in the big ledger. Now, then! You see this other page in red ink? Well that is a list of my town suppliers. Now, look at that third name. Just read it out read it out to me." "Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road—249," read Holmes. "Quite "Quite so. Now turn that up turn that up in the ledger." Holmes turned to the page indicated. indicated. "Here you are, 'Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road, egg and poultry supplier.'" "Now, then, what's the last entry?" "'December 22nd. Twenty four geese at 7s. 6d.'" "Quite "Quite so. There you are. And underneath?" underneath?" "'Sold to Mr. Windigate of the Alpha, at 12s.'" "What have you to say now?" Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. chagrined. He drew a sovereign sovereign from his pocket and threw it down upon the slab, turning away turning away with the air of a man whose disgust disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off he stopped under a lamp post and laughed in the hearty, noiseless fashion which was peculiar peculiar to him. "When you see a man with whiskers of that cut and the 'Pink 'un' protruding out of his pocket, you can always draw him by a bet," said he. "I daresay that if I had put 100 pounds pounds down in front of him, that man would not have given me such complete information as was drawn from him by the idea that he was doing me on a wager. wager. Well, Watson, we are, I fancy, fancy, nearing the end of our quest, quest, and the only point which remains remains to be determined determined is whether we should go on to this Mrs. Oakshott to night, or whether we should reserve it for to morrow. It is clear from what that surly fellow said that there are others besides besides ourselves who are anxious about the matter, and I should—" His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbub hubbub which broke out broke out from the stall stall which we had just left. Turning round we saw a little rat faced fellow standing standing in the centre of the circle of yellow light which was thrown by the swinging lamp, while Breckinridge, the salesman, framed in the door of his stall, stall, was shaking his fists fiercely fiercely at the cringing cringing figure.
"I've had enough of you and your geese," he shouted. "I wish you were all at the devil together. If you come pestering me any more with your silly talk I'll set the dog at you. You bring Mrs. Oakshott here and I'll answer her, but what have you to do with it? Did I buy the geese off you?" "No; but one of them was mine all the same," whined the little man. "Well, then, ask Mrs. Oakshott for it." "She told me to ask you." "Well, you can ask the King of Proosia, for all I care. I've had enough of it. Get out of this!" He rushed rushed fiercely fiercely forward, and the inquirer inquirer flitted away into the darkness.
"Ha! this may save us a visit to Brixton Road," whispered whispered Holmes. "Come with me, and we will see what is to be made of this fellow." Striding Striding through the scattered scattered knots of people who lounged round the flaring stalls, stalls, my companion companion speedily overtook the little man and touched him upon the shoulder. He sprang round, and I could see in the gas light that every vestige vestige of colour had been driven from his face. "Who are you, then? What do you want?" he asked in a quavering quavering voice. "You will excuse me," said Holmes blandly, blandly, "but I could not help overhearing the questions which you put to the salesman just now. I think that I could be of assistance assistance to you." "You? Who are you? How could you know anything of know anything of the matter?""My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don't know." "But you can know nothing of know nothing of this?" "Excuse me, I know everything of know everything of it. You are endeavouring endeavouring to trace some geese which were sold by Mrs. Oakshott, of Brixton Road, to a salesman named Breckinridge, by him in turn to Mr. Windigate, of the Alpha, and by him to his club, of which Mr. Henry Baker is a member." "Oh, sir, you are the very man whom I have longed to meet," cried the little fellow with outstretched hands and quivering quivering fingers. "I can hardly hardly explain to you how interested I am in this matter." Sherlock Holmes hailed hailed a four wheeler which was passing. "In that case we had better discuss it in a cosy room rather rather than in this wind swept market place," said he. "But pray tell me, before we go farther, farther, who it is that I have the pleasure pleasure of assisting." assisting." The man hesitated hesitated for an instant. "My name is John Robin son," he answered with a sidelong glance. glance. "No, no; the real name," said Holmes sweetly. "It is always awkward awkward doing business with an alias." alias." A flush sprang to the white cheeks of the stranger. stranger. "Well then," said he, "my real name is James Ryder."
"Precisely "Precisely so. Head attendant at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Cosmopolitan. Pray step into the cab, and I shall soon be able able to tell you everything which you would wish to know." The little man stood glancing glancing from one to the other of us with half frightened, frightened, half hopeful eyes, as one who is not sure whether he is on the verge verge of a windfall windfall or of a catastrophe. catastrophe. Then he stepped into the cab, and in half an hour we were back in the sitting room at Baker Street. Nothing had been said during our drive, but the high, thin breathing of our new companion, companion, and the claspings and unclaspings of his hands, spoke of the nervous nervous tension within him. "Here we are!" said Holmes cheerily as we filed into the room. "The fire looks very seasonable in this weather. You look cold, Mr. Ryder. Pray take the basket chair. I will just put on my slippers before we settle this little matter of yours. Now, then! You want to know what became of became of those geese?" "Yes, sir." "Or rather, rather, I fancy, fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine in which you were interested—white, with a black bar across the tail." Ryder quivered quivered with emotion. "Oh, sir," he cried, "can you tell me where it went to?" "It came here." "Here?" "Yes, and a most remarkable remarkable bird it proved. I don't wonder that you should take an interest in interest in it. It laid an egg after it was dead—the bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever was seen. I have it here in my museum."
Our visitor staggered staggered to his feet and clutched clutched the mantel piece with his right hand. Holmes unlocked his strong box and held up the blue carbuncle, which shone out like a star, with a cold, brilliant, many pointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring glaring with a drawn face, uncertain uncertain whether to claim claim or to disown it. "The game's up, Ryder," said Holmes quietly. "Hold up, man, or you'll be into the fire! Give him an arm back into his chair, Watson. He's not got blood enough to go in for felony with impunity. Give him a dash of brandy. So! Now he looks a little more human. What a shrimp it is, to be sure!" For a moment he had staggered staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy brought a tinge of colour into his cheeks, and he sat staring staring with frightened frightened eyes at his accuser. accuser. "I have almost every link in my hands, and all the proofs which I could possibly need, so there is little which you need tell me. Still, that little may as well be cleared up cleared up to make the case complete. You had heard Ryder of heard Ryder of this blue stone of the Countess of Morcar's?" "It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it," said he in a crackling voice.
"I see—her ladyship's waiting maid. Well, the temptation of sudden wealth so easily acquired acquired was too much for you, as it has been for better men before you; but you were not very scrupulous scrupulous in the means means you used. It seems seems to me, Ryder, that there is the making of a very pretty villain in you. You knew that this man Horner, the plumber, had been concerned concerned in some such matter before, and that suspicion would rest the more readily upon him. What did you do, then? You made some small job in my lady's room—you and your confederate Cu sack—and you managed that he should be the man sent for sent for Then, when he had left, you rifled the jewel case, raised raised the alarm, alarm, and had this unfortunate man arrested. You then—" Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and clutched clutched at my companion's knees. "For God's sake, sake, have mercy!" he shrieked. "Think of my father! Of my mother! It would break their hearts. I never went wrong before! I never will again. I swear it. I'll swear it on a Bible. Oh, don't bring it into court! For Christ's sake, sake, don't!" "Get back into your chair!" said Holmes sternly. sternly. "It is very well very well to cringe cringe and crawl crawl now, but you thought little enough of this poor Horner in the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing." "I will fly, Mr. Holmes. I will leave the country, sir. Then the charge against him will break down." "Hum! We will talk about that. And now let let us hear a true ac count of the next act. How came the stone into the goose, and how came the goose into the open market? Tell us the truth, for there lies your only hope of safety."
Ryder passed his tongue over his parched parched lips. "I will tell you it just as it happened, sir," said he. "When Horner had been arrested, it seemed seemed to me that it would be best for me to get away get away with the stone at once, for I did not know at what moment the police might not take it into their heads to search me and my room. There was no place about the hotel where it would be safe. I went out went out as if on some commission, and I made for made for my sister's house. She had married a man named Oakshott, and lived in Brixton Road, where she fattened fowls for the market. All the way there every man I met seemed seemed to me to be a policeman or a detective; and, for all that it was a cold night, the sweat was pouring down my face before I came to the Brixton Road. My sister asked me what was the matter, and why I was so pale; pale; but I told her that I had been upset upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. Then I went into went into the back yard and smoked a pipe and wondered what it would be best to do.
"I had a friend once called Maudsley, who went to the bad, and has just been serving his time in Pentonville. One day he had met me, and fell into talk about the ways of thieves, and how they could get rid of what they stole. I knew that he would be true to me, for I knew one or two things about him; so I made up my mind made up my mind to go right on to Kilburn, where he lived, and take him into my confidence. He would show me how to turn the stone into money. But how to get to him in safety? I thought of thought of the agonies agonies I had gone through in coming from the hotel. I might at any moment be seized seized and searched, and there would be the stone in my waistcoat pocket. I was leaning leaning against the wall at the time and looking at the geese which were waddling about round my feet, and suddenly an idea came into came into my head which showed me how I could beat the best detective that ever lived.
"My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the pick of her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that she was always as good as her word. I would take my goose now, and in it I would carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed shed in the yard, and behind behind this I drove one of the birds—a fine big one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it, and prying prying its bill open, I thrust thrust the stone down its throat as far as my finger could reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the stone pass along its gullet and down into its crop. But the creature flapped and struggled, and out came my sister to know what was the matter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose loose and fluttered fluttered off among the others. "'Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jem?' says she. "'Well,' said I, 'you said you'd give me one for Christmas, and I was feeling which was the fattest.'
"'Oh,' says she, 'we've set yours aside set yours aside for you—Jem's bird, we call it. It's the big white one over yonder. There's twenty six of them, which makes one for makes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen for the market.' "'Thank you, Maggie,' says I; 'but if it is all the same to you, I'd rather rather have that one I was handling handling just now.' "'The other is a good three pound pound heavier,' said she, 'and we fattened it expressly for you.' "'Never mind. I'll have the other, and I'll take it now,' said I. "'Oh, just as you like,' said she, a little huffed. 'Which is it you want, then?' "'That white one with the barred tail, right in the middle of the flock.' "'Oh, very well very well Kill it and take it with you.'
"Well, I did what she said, Mr. Holmes, and I carried the bird all the way to Kilburn. I told my pal what I had done, for he was a man that it was easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed until he choked, and we got a knife and opened the goose. My heart turned to water, for there was no sign of the stone, and I knew that some terrible terrible mistake had occurred. occurred. I left the bird, rushed rushed back to my sister's, and hurried hurried into the back yard. There was not a bird to be seen there. "'Where are they all, Maggie?' I cried. "'Gone to the dealer's, Jem.' "'Which dealer's?' "'Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.'
"'But was there another another with a barred tail?' I asked, 'the same as the one I chose?' "'Yes, Jem; there were two barred tailed ones, and I could never tell them apart tell them apart "Well, then, of course I saw it all, and I ran off as hard as my feet would carry me to this man Breckinridge; but he had sold the lot at once, and not one word would he tell me as to where they had gone. You heard him yourselves to night. Well, he has always answered me like that. My sister thinks that I am going mad. Sometimes I think that I am myself. And now—and now I am myself a branded thief, without ever having touched the wealth for which I sold my character. God help me! God help me!" He burst into convulsive sobbing, sobbing, with his face buried in his hands.
There was a long silence, broken only by his heavy breathing and by the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes' finger tips upon the edge of the table. Then my friend rose and threw open the door. "Get out!" said he. "What, sir! Oh, Heaven bless you!" "No more words. Get out!"
And no more words were needed. There was a rush, rush, a clatter upon the stairs, the bang of a door, and the crisp rattle of running footfalls from the street.
"After all, Watson," said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his clay pipe, "I am not retained retained by the police to supply their deficiencies. deficiencies. If Horner were in danger it would be another another thing; but this fellow will not appear appear against him, and the case must collapse. I suppose that I am commuting commuting a felony, but it is just possible that I am saving a soul. This fellow will not go wrong again; he is too terribly frightened. frightened. Send him to gaol now, and you make him a gaol bird for life. Besides, Besides, it is the season of forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a most singular singular and whimsical whimsical problem, and its solution is its own reward. If you will have the goodness to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin another another investigation, in which, also a bird will be the chief feature."