"No, sir, we could find no pipe; indeed, he smoked very little. And yethe might have kept some tobacco for his friends."
"No doubt. I only mention it because if I had been handling the caseI should have been inclined to make that the starting-point of myinvestigation. However, my friend Dr. Watson knows nothing of thismatter, and I should be none the worse for hearing the sequence ofevents once more. Just give us some short sketch of the essentials."
Stanley Hopkins drew a slip of paper from his pocket.
"I have a few dates here which will give you the career of the dead man,Captain Peter Carey. He was born in '45--fifty years of age. He was amost daring and successful seal and whale fisher. In 1883 he commandedthe steam sealer SEA UNICORN, of Dundee. He had then had severalsuccessful voyages in succession, and in the following year, 1884, heretired. After that he travelled for some years, and finally he boughta small place called Woodman's Lee, near Forest Row, in Sussex. There hehas lived for six years, and there he died just a week ago to-day.
"There were some most singular points about the man. In ordinary life hewas a strict Puritan--a silent, gloomy fellow. His household consistedof his wife, his daughter, aged twenty, and two female servants.These last were continually changing, for it was never a very cheerysituation, and sometimes it became past all bearing. The man was anintermittent drunkard, and when he had the fit on him he was a perfectfiend. He has been known to drive his wife and his daughter out of doorsin the middle of the night, and flog them through the park until thewhole village outside the gates was aroused by their screams.
"He was summoned once for a savage assault upon the old vicar, who hadcalled upon him to remonstrate with him upon his conduct. In short,Mr. Holmes, you would go far before you found a more dangerous man thanPeter Carey, and I have heard that he bore the same character when hecommanded his ship. He was known in the trade as Black Peter, and thename was given him, not only on account of his swarthy features and thecolour of his huge beard, but for the humours which were the terror ofall around him. I need not say that he was loathed and avoided by everyone of his neighbours, and that I have not heard one single word ofsorrow about his terrible end.
"You must have read in the account of the inquest about the man's cabin,Mr. Holmes; but perhaps your friend here has not heard of it. He hadbuilt himself a wooden outhouse--he always called it 'the cabin'--a fewhundred yards from his house, and it was here that he slept every night.It was a little, single-roomed hut, sixteen feet by ten. He kept thekey in his pocket, made his own bed, cleaned it himself, and allowed noother foot to cross the threshold. There are small windows on each side,which were covered by curtains and never opened. One of these windowswas turned towards the high road, and when the light burned in it atnight the folk used to point it out to each other and wonder what BlackPeter was doing in there. That's the window, Mr. Holmes, which gave usone of the few bits of positive evidence that came out at the inquest.
"You remember that a stonemason, named Slater, walking from Forest Rowabout one o'clock in the morning--two days before the murder--stoppedas he passed the grounds and looked at the square of light still shiningamong the trees. He swears that the shadow of a man's head turnedsideways was clearly visible on the blind, and that this shadow wascertainly not that of Peter Carey, whom he knew well. It was that of abearded man, but the beard wa
s short and bristled forwards in a wayvery different from that of the captain. So he says, but he had been twohours in the public-house, and it is some distance from the road to thewindow. Besides, this refers to the Monday, and the crime was done uponthe Wednesday.
"On the Tuesday Peter Carey was in one of his blackest moods, flushedwith drink and as savage as a dangerous wild beast. He roamed about thehouse, and the women ran for it when they heard him coming. Late in theevening he went down to his own hut. About two o'clock the followingmorning his daughter, who slept with her window open, heard a mostfearful yell from that direction, but it was no unusual thing for him tobawl and shout when he was in drink, so no notice was taken. On risingat seven one of the maids noticed that the door of the hut was open, butso great was the terror which the man caused that it was midday beforeanyone would venture down to see what had become of him. Peeping intothe open door they saw a sight which sent them flying with white facesinto the village. Within an hour I was on the spot and had taken overthe case.
"Well, I have fairly steady nerves, as you know, Mr. Holmes, but Igive you my word that I got a shake when I put my head into that littlehouse. It was droning like a harmonium with the flies and bluebottles,and the floor and walls were like a slaughter-house. He had called it acabin, and a cabin it was sure enough, for you would have thought thatyou were in a ship. There was a bunk at one end, a sea-chest, maps andcharts, a picture of the SEA UNICORN, a line of log-books on a shelf,all exactly as one would expect to find it in a captain's room. Andthere in the middle of it was the man himself, his face twisted like alost soul in torment, and his great brindled beard stuck upwards in hisagony. Right through his broad breast a steel harpoon had been driven,and it had sunk deep into the wood of the wall behind him. He was pinnedlike a beetle on a card. Of course, he was quite dead, and had been sofrom the instant that he had uttered that last yell of agony.
"I know your methods, sir, and I applied them. Before I permittedanything to be moved I examined most carefully the ground outside, andalso the floor of the room. There were no footmarks."
"Meaning that you saw none?"
"I assure you, sir, that there were none."
"My good Hopkins, I have investigated many crimes, but I have neveryet seen one which was committed by a flying creature. As long as thecriminal remains upon two legs so long must there be some indentation,some abrasion, some trifling displacement which can be detected by thescientific searcher. It is incredible that this blood-bespattered roomcontained no trace which could have aided us. I understand, however,from the inquest that there were some objects which you failed tooverlook?"
The young inspector winced at my companion's ironical comments.
"I was a fool not to call you in at the time, Mr. Holmes. However,that's past praying for now. Yes, there were several objects in the roomwhich called for special attention. One was the harpoon with which thedeed was committed. It had been snatched down from a rack on the wall.Two others remained there, and there was a vacant place for the third.On the stock was engraved 'Ss. SEA UNICORN, Dundee.' This seemed toestablish that the crime had been done in a moment of fury, and thatthe murderer had seized the first weapon which came in his way. The factthat the crime was committed at two in the morning, and yet PeterCarey was fully dressed, suggested that he had an appointment with themurderer, which is borne out by the fact that a bottle of rum and twodirty glasses stood upon the table."
"Yes," said Holmes; "I think that both inferences are permissible. Wasthere any other spirit but rum in the room?"
"Yes; there was a tantalus containing brandy and whisky on thesea-chest. It is of no importance to us, however, since the decanterswere full, and it had therefore not been used."
"For all that its presence has some significance," said Holmes."However, let us hear some more about the objects which do seem to youto bear upon the case."
"There was this tobacco-pouch upon the table."
"What part of the table?"
"It lay in the middle. It was of coarse seal-skin--the straight-hairedskin, with a leather thong to bind it. Inside was 'P.C.' on the flap.There was half an ounce of strong ship's tobacco in it."
"Excellent! What more?"
Stanley Hopkins drew from his pocket a drab-covered note-book. Theoutside was rough and worn, the leaves discoloured. On the first pagewere written the initials "J.H.N." and the date "1883." Holmes laidit on the table and examined it in his minute way, while Hopkins and Igazed over each shoulder. On the second page were the printed letters"C.P.R.," and then came several sheets of numbers. Another heading wasArgentine, another Costa Rica, and another San Paulo, each with pages ofsigns and figures after it.
"What do you make of these?" asked Holmes.
"They appear to be lists of Stock Exchange securities. I thought that'J.H.N.' were the initials of a broker, and that 'C.P.R.' may have beenhis client."
"Try Canadian Pacific Railway," said Holmes.
Stanley Hopkins swore between his teeth and struck his thigh with hisclenched hand.
"What a fool I have been!" he cried. "Of course, it is as you say. Then'J.H.N.' are the only initials we have to solve. I have already examinedthe old Stock Exchange lists, and I can find no one in 1883 either inthe House or among the outside brokers whose initials correspond withthese. Yet I feel that the clue is the most important one that I hold.You will admit, Mr. Holmes, that there is a possibility that theseinitials are those of the second person who was present--in other words,of the murderer. I would also urge that the introduction into the caseof a document relating to large masses of valuable securities gives usfor the first time some indication of a motive for the crime."