"Dear me!" said Holmes. "What was that?"
"A murder--a most dramatic and remarkable murder. I know how keen youare upon these things, and I would take it as a great favour if youwould step down to Appledore Towers and give us the benefit of youradvice. It is no ordinary crime. We have had our eyes upon this Mr.Milverton for some time, and, between ourselves, he was a bit of avillain. He is known to have held papers which he used for blackmailingpurposes. These papers have all been burned by the murderers. No articleof value was taken, as it is probable that the criminals were men ofgood position, whose sole object was
to prevent social exposure."
"Criminals!" said Holmes. "Plural!"
"Yes, there were two of them. They were, as nearly as possible, capturedred-handed. We have their foot-marks, we have their description; it'sten to one that we trace them. The first fellow was a bit too active,but the second was caught by the under-gardener and only got away aftera struggle. He was a middle-sized, strongly-built man--square jaw, thickneck, moustache, a mask over his eyes."
"That's rather vague," said Sherlock Holmes. "Why, it might be adescription of Watson!"
"It's true," said the inspector, with much amusement. "It might be adescription of Watson."
"Well, I am afraid I can't help you, Lestrade," said Holmes. "The factis that I knew this fellow Milverton, that I considered him one of themost dangerous men in London, and that I think there are certain crimeswhich the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justifyprivate revenge. No, it's no use arguing. I have made up my mind. Mysympathies are with the criminals rather than with the victim, and Iwill not handle this case."
Holmes had not said one word to me about the tragedy which we hadwitnessed, but I observed all the morning that he was in his mostthoughtful mood, and he gave me the impression, from his vacant eyes andhis abstracted manner, of a man who is striving to recall something tohis memory. We were in the middle of our lunch when he suddenly sprangto his feet. "By Jove, Watson; I've got it!" he cried. "Take your hat!Come with me!" He hurried at his top speed down Baker Street and alongOxford Street, until we had almost reached Regent Circus. Here on theleft hand there stands a shop window filled with photographs of thecelebrities and beauties of the day. Holmes's eyes fixed themselves uponone of them, and following his gaze I saw the picture of a regal andstately lady in Court dress, with a high diamond tiara upon her noblehead. I looked at that delicately-curved nose, at the marked eyebrows,at the straight mouth, and the strong little chin beneath it. Then Icaught my breath as I read the time-honoured title of the great noblemanand statesman whose wife she had been. My eyes met those of Holmes, andhe put his finger to his lips as we turned away from the window.
*****
THE STRAND MAGAZINE Vol. 27 MAY, 1904 THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
VIII.--The Adventure of the Six Napoleons.
IT was no very unusual thing for Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, tolook in upon us of an evening, and his visits were welcome to SherlockHolmes, for they enabled him to keep in touch with all that was going onat the police head-quarters. In return for the news which Lestrade wouldbring, Holmes was always ready to listen with attention to thedetails of any case upon which the detective was engaged, and was ableoccasionally, without any active interference, to give some hint orsuggestion drawn from his own vast knowledge and experience.
On this particular evening Lestrade had spoken of the weather and thenewspapers. Then he had fallen silent, puffing thoughtfully at hiscigar. Holmes looked keenly at him.
"Anything remarkable on hand?" he asked.
"Oh, no, Mr. Holmes, nothing very particular."
"Then tell me about it."
Lestrade laughed.
"Well, Mr. Holmes, there is no use denying that there IS something on mymind. And yet it is such an absurd business that I hesitated tobother you about it. On the other hand, although it is trivial, it isundoubtedly queer, and I know that you have a taste for all that is outof the common. But in my opinion it comes more in Dr. Watson's line thanours."
"Disease?" said I.
"Madness, anyhow. And a queer madness too! You wouldn't think there wasanyone living at this time of day who had such a hatred of Napoleon theFirst that he would break any image of him that he could see."
Holmes sank back in his chair.
"That's no business of mine," said he.
"Exactly. That's what I said. But then, when the man commits burglaryin order to break images which are not his own, that brings it away fromthe doctor and on to the policeman."
Holmes sat up again.
"Burglary! This is more interesting. Let me hear the details."
Lestrade took out his official note-book and refreshed his memory fromits pages.
"The first case reported was four days ago," said he. "It was at theshop of Morse Hudson, who has a place for the sale of pictures andstatues in the Kennington Road. The assistant had left the front shopfor an instant when he heard a crash, and hurrying in he found a plasterbust of Napoleon, which stood with several other works of art upon thecounter, lying shivered into fragments. He rushed out into the road,but, although several passers-by declared that they had noticed a manrun out of the shop, he could neither see anyone nor could he find anymeans of identifying the rascal. It seemed to be one of those senselessacts of Hooliganism which occur from time to time, and it was reportedto the constable on the beat as such. The plaster cast was not worthmore than a few shillings, and the whole affair appeared to be toochildish for any particular investigation.
"The second case, however, was more serious and also more singular. Itoccurred only last night.
"In Kennington Road, and within a few hundred yards of Morse Hudson'sshop, there lives a well-known medical practitioner, named Dr. Barnicot,who has one of the largest practices upon the south side of the Thames.His residence and principal consulting-room is at Kennington Road, buthe has a branch surgery and dispensary at Lower Brixton Road, two milesaway. This Dr. Barnicot is an enthusiastic admirer of Napoleon, and hishouse is full of books, pictures, and relics of the French Emperor. Somelittle time ago he purchased from Morse Hudson two duplicate plastercasts of the famous head of Napoleon by the French sculptor, Devine. Oneof these he placed in his hall in the house at Kennington Road, and theother on the mantelpiece of the surgery at Lower Brixton. Well, when Dr.Barnicot came down this morning he was astonished to find that his househad been burgled during the night, but that nothing had been taken savethe plaster head from the hall. It had been carried out and had beendashed savagely against the garden wall, under which its splinteredfragments were discovered."