A Study in Scarlet
the track of blood coincided with the track of his feet. It is seldom
that any man, unless he is very full-blooded, breaks out in this way
through emotion, so I hazarded the opinion that the criminal was
probably a robust and ruddy-faced man. Events proved that I had judged
correctly.
“Having left the house, I proceeded to do what Gregson had neglected. I
telegraphed to the head of the police at Cleveland, limiting my enquiry
to the circumstances connected with the marriage of Enoch Drebber. The
answer was conclusive. It told me that Drebber had already applied for
the protection of the law against an old rival in love, named Jefferson
Hope, and that this same Hope was at present in Europe. I knew now that
I held the clue to the mystery in my hand, and all that remained was to
secure the murderer.
“I had already determined in my own mind that the man who had walked
into the house with Drebber, was none other than the man who had driven
the cab. The marks in the road showed me that the horse had wandered on
in a way which would have been impossible had there been anyone in
charge of it. Where, then, could the driver be, unless he were inside
the house? Again, it is absurd to suppose that any sane man would carry
out a deliberate crime under the very eyes, as it were, of a third
person, who was sure to betray him. Lastly, supposing one man wished to
dog another through London, what better means could he adopt than to
turn cabdriver. All these considerations led me to the irresistible
conclusion that Jefferson Hope was to be found among the jarveys of the
Metropolis.
“If he had been one there was no reason to believe that he had ceased
to be. On the contrary, from his point of view, any sudden change would
be likely to draw attention to himself. He would, probably, for a time
at least, continue to perform his duties. There was no reason to
suppose that he was going under an assumed name. Why should he change
his name in a country where no one knew his original one? I therefore
organized my Street Arab detective corps, and sent them systematically
to every cab proprietor in London until they ferreted out the man that
I wanted. How well they succeeded, and how quickly I took advantage of
it, are still fresh in your recollection. The murder of Stangerson was
an incident which was entirely unexpected, but which could hardly in
any case have been prevented. Through it, as you know, I came into
possession of the pills, the existence of which I had already surmised.
You see the whole thing is a chain of logical sequences without a break
or flaw.”
“It is wonderful!” I cried. “Your merits should be publicly recognized.
You should publish an account of the case. If you won’t, I will for
you.”
“You may do what you like, Doctor,” he answered. “See here!” he
continued, handing a paper over to me, “look at this!”
It was the _Echo_ for the day, and the paragraph to which he pointed
was devoted to the case in question.
“The public,” it said, “have lost a sensational treat through the
sudden death of the man Hope, who was suspected of the murder of Mr.
Enoch Drebber and of Mr. Joseph Stangerson. The details of the case
will probably be never known now, though we are informed upon good
authority that the crime was the result of an old standing and romantic
feud, in which love and Mormonism bore a part. It seems that both the
victims belonged, in their younger days, to the Latter Day Saints, and
Hope, the deceased prisoner, hails also from Salt Lake City. If the
case has had no other effect, it, at least, brings out in the most
striking manner the efficiency of our detective police force, and will
serve as a lesson to all foreigners that they will do wisely to settle
their feuds at home, and not to carry them on to British soil. It is an
open secret that the credit of this smart capture belongs entirely to
the well-known Scotland Yard officials, Messrs. Lestrade and Gregson.
The man was apprehended, it appears, in the rooms of a certain Mr.
Sherlock Holmes, who has himself, as an amateur, shown some talent in
the detective line, and who, with such instructors, may hope in time to
attain to some degree of their skill. It is expected that a testimonial
of some sort will be presented to the two officers as a fitting
recognition of their services.”
“Didn’t I tell you so when we started?” cried Sherlock Holmes with a
laugh. “That’s the result of all our Study in Scarlet: to get them a
testimonial!”
“Never mind,” I answered, “I have all the facts in my journal, and the
public shall know them. In the meantime you must make yourself
contented by the consciousness of success, like the Roman miser—
“‘Populus me sibilat, at mihi plaudo
Ipse domi simul ac nummos contemplor in arca.’”