Chapter 4 What John Rance Had To Tell

IT was one o'clock when we left No. 3, Lauriston Gardens. Sherlock Holmes led me to the nearest telegraph office, whence he dispatched a long telegram. He then hailed a cab, and ordered the driver to take us to the address given us by Lestrade.

"There is nothing like first hand evidence," he remarked; "as a matter of fact, my mind is entirely made up upon the case, but still we may as well learn all that is to be learned."

"You amaze me, Holmes," said I. "Surely you are not as sure as you pretend to be of all those particulars which you gave."

"There's no room for a mistake," he answered. "The very first thing which I observed on arriving there was that a cab had made two ruts with its wheels close to the curb. Now, up to last night, we have had no rain for a week, so that those wheels which left such a deep impression must have been there during the night. There were the marks of the horse's hoofs, too, the outline of one of which was far more clearly cut than that of the other three, showing that that was a new shoe. Since the cab was there after the rain began, and was not there at any time during the morning -- I have Gregson's word for that -- it follows that it must have been there during the night, and, therefore, that it brought those two individuals to the house."

"That seems simple enough," said I; "but how about the other man's height?"

"Why, the height of a man, in nine cases out of ten, can be told from the length of his stride. It is a simple calculation enough, though there is no use my boring you with figures. I had this fellow's stride both on the clay outside and on the dust within. Then I had a way of checking my calculation. When a man writes on a wall, his instinct leads him to write about the level of his own eyes. Now that writing was just over six feet from the ground. It was child's play."

"And his age?" I asked.

"Well, if a man can stride four and a-half feet without the smallest effort, he can't be quite in the sere and yellow. That was the breadth of a puddle on the garden walk which he had evidently walked across. Patent-leather boots had gone round, and Square-toes had hopped over. There is no mystery about it at all. I am simply applying to ordinary life a few of those precepts of observation and deduction which I advocated in that article. Is there anything else that puzzles you?"

"The finger nails and the Trichinopoly," I suggested.

"The writing on the wall was done with a man's forefinger dipped in blood. My glass allowed me to observe that the plaster was slightly scratched in doing it, which would not have been the case if the man's nail had been trimmed. I gathered up some scattered ash from the floor. It was dark in colour and flakey -- such an ash as is only made by a Trichinopoly. I have made a special study of cigar ashes -- in fact, I have written a monograph upon the subject. I flatter myself that I can distinguish at a glance the ash of any known brand, either of cigar or of tobacco. It is just in such details that the skilled detective differs from the Gregson and Lestrade type."

"And the florid face?" I asked.

"Ah, that was a more daring shot, though I have no doubt that I was right. You must not ask me that at the present state of the affair."

I passed my hand over my brow. "My head is in a whirl," I remarked; "the more one thinks of it the more mysterious it grows. How came these two men -- if there were two men -- into an empty house? What has become of the cabman who drove them? How could one man compel another to take poison? Where did the blood come from? What was the object of the murderer, since robbery had no part in it? How came the woman's ring there? Above all, why should the second man write up the German word RACHE before decamping? I confess that I cannot see any possible way of reconciling all these facts."

My companion smiled approvingly.

"You sum up the difficulties of the situation succinctly and well," he said. "There is much that is still obscure, though I have quite made up my mind on the main facts. As to poor Lestrade's discovery it was simply a blind intended to put the police upon a wrong track, by suggesting Socialism and secret societies. It was not done by a German. The A, if you noticed, was printed somewhat after the German fashion. Now, a real German invariably prints in the Latin character, so that we may safely say that this was not written by one, but by a clumsy imitator who overdid his part. It was simply a ruse to divert inquiry into a wrong channel. I'm not going to tell you much more of the case, Doctor. You know a conjuror gets no credit when once he has explained his trick, and if I show you too much of my method of working, you will come to the conclusion that I am a very ordinary individual after all."

"I shall never do that," I answered; "you have brought detection as near an exact science as it ever will be brought in this world."

My companion flushed up with pleasure at my words, and the earnest way in which I uttered them. I had already observed that he was as sensitive to flattery on the score of his art as any girl could be of her beauty.

"I'll tell you one other thing," he said. "Patent leathers and Square-toes came in the same cab, and they walked down the pathway together as friendly as possible -- arm-in-arm, in all probability. When they got inside they walked up and down the room -- or rather, Patent-leathers stood still while Square-toes walked up and down. I could read all that in the dust; and I could read that as he walked he grew more and more excited. That is shown by the increased length of his strides. He was talking all the while, and working himself up, no doubt, into a fury. Then the tragedy occurred. I've told you all I know myself now, for the rest is mere surmise and conjecture. We have a good working basis, however, on which to start. We must hurry up, for I want to go to Halle's concert to hear Norman Neruda this afternoon."

This conversation had occurred while our cab had been threading its way through a long succession of dingy streets and dreary by-ways. In the dingiest and dreariest of them our driver suddenly came to a stand. "That's Audley Court in there," he said, pointing to a narrow slit in the line of dead-coloured brick. "You'll find me here when you come back."

Audley Court was not an attractive locality. The narrow passage led us into a quadrangle paved with flags and lined by sordid dwellings. We picked our way among groups of dirty children, and through lines of discoloured linen, until we came to Number 46, the door of which was decorated with a small slip of brass on which the name Rance was engraved. On enquiry we found that the constable was in bed, and we were shown into a little front parlour to await his coming.

He appeared presently, looking a little irritable at being disturbed in his slumbers. "I made my report at the office," he said.

Holmes took a half-sovereign from his pocket and played with it pensively. "We thought that we should like to hear it all from your own lips," he said.

"I shall be most happy to tell you anything I can," the constable answered with his eyes upon the little golden disk.

"Just let us hear it all in your own way as it occurred."

Rance sat down on the horsehair sofa, and knitted his brows as though determined not to omit anything in his narrative.

"I'll tell it ye from the beginning," he said. "My time is from ten at night to six in the morning. At eleven there was a fight at the `White Hart'; but bar that all was quiet enough on the beat. At one o'clock it began to rain, and I met Harry Murcher -- him who has the Holland Grove beat -- and we stood together at the corner of Henrietta Street a-talkin'. Presently -- maybe about two or a little after -- I thought I would take a look round and see that all was right down the Brixton Road. It was precious dirty and lonely. Not a soul did I meet all the way down, though a cab or two went past me. I was a strollin' down, thinkin' between ourselves how uncommon handy a four of gin hot would be, when suddenly the glint of a light caught my eye in the window of that same house. Now, I knew that them two houses in Lauriston Gardens was empty on account of him that owns them who won't have the drains seed to, though the very last tenant what lived in one of them died o' typhoid fever. I was knocked all in a heap therefore at seeing a light in the window, and I suspected as something was wrong. When I got to the door ----"

"You stopped, and then walked back to the garden gate," my companion interrupted. "What did you do that for?"

Rance gave a violent jump, and stared at Sherlock Holmes with the utmost amazement upon his features.

"Why, that's true, sir," he said; "though how you come to know it, Heaven only knows. Ye see, when I got up to the door it was so still and so lonesome, that I thought I'd be none the worse for some one with me. I ain't afeared of anything on this side o' the grave; but I thought that maybe it was him that died o' the typhoid inspecting the drains what killed him. The thought gave me a kind o' turn, and I walked back to the gate to see if I could see Murcher's lantern, but there wasn't no sign of him nor of anyone else."

"There was no one in the street?"

"Not a livin' soul, sir, nor as much as a dog. Then I pulled myself together and went back and pushed the door open. All was quiet inside, so I went into the room where the light was a-burnin'. There was a candle flickerin' on the mantelpiece -- a red wax one -- and by its light I saw ----"

"Yes, I know all that you saw. You walked round the room several times, and you knelt down by the body, and then you walked through and tried the kitchen door, and then ----"

John Rance sprang to his feet with a frightened face and suspicion in his eyes. "Where was you hid to see all that?" he cried. "It seems to me that you knows a deal more than you should."

Holmes laughed and threw his card across the table to the constable. "Don't get arresting me for the murder," he said. "I am one of the hounds and not the wolf; Mr. Gregson or Mr. Lestrade will answer for that. Go on, though. What did you do next?"

Rance resumed his seat, without however losing his mystified expression. "I went back to the gate and sounded my whistle. That brought Murcher and two more to the spot."

"Was the street empty then?"

"Well, it was, as far as anybody that could be of any good goes."

"What do you mean?"

The constable's features broadened into a grin. "I've seen many a drunk chap in my time," he said, "but never anyone so cryin' drunk as that cove. He was at the gate when I came out, a-leanin' up agin the railings, and a-singin' at the pitch o' his lungs about Columbine's New-fangled Banner, or some such stuff. He couldn't stand, far less help."

"What sort of a man was he?" asked Sherlock Holmes.

John Rance appeared to be somewhat irritated at this digression. "He was an uncommon drunk sort o' man," he said. "He'd ha' found hisself in the station if we hadn't been so took up."

"His face -- his dress -- didn't you notice them?" Holmes broke in impatiently.

"I should think I did notice them, seeing that I had to prop him up -- me and Murcher between us. He was a long chap, with a red face, the lower part muffled round ----"

"That will do," cried Holmes. "What became of him?"

"We'd enough to do without lookin' after him," the policeman said, in an aggrieved voice. "I'll wager he found his way home all right."

"How was he dressed?"

"A brown overcoat."

"Had he a whip in his hand?"

"A whip -- no."

"He must have left it behind," muttered my companion. "You didn't happen to see or hear a cab after that?"

"No."

"There's a half-sovereign for you," my companion said, standing up and taking his hat. "I am afraid, Rance, that you will never rise in the force. That head of yours should be for use as well as ornament. You might have gained your sergeant's stripes last night. The man whom you held in your hands is the man who holds the clue of this mystery, and whom we are seeking. There is no use of arguing about it now; I tell you that it is so. Come along, Doctor."

We started off for the cab together, leaving our informant incredulous, but obviously uncomfortable.

"The blundering fool," Holmes said, bitterly, as we drove back to our lodgings. "Just to think of his having such an incomparable bit of good luck, and not taking advantage of it."

"I am rather in the dark still. It is true that the description of this man tallies with your idea of the second party in this mystery. But why should he come back to the house after leaving it? That is not the way of criminals."

"The ring, man, the ring: that was what he came back for. If we have no other way of catching him, we can always bait our line with the ring. I shall have him, Doctor -- I'll lay you two to one that I have him. I must thank you for it all. I might not have gone but for you, and so have missed the finest study I ever came across: a study in scarlet, eh? Why shouldn't we use a little art jargon. There's the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate it, and expose every inch of it. And now for lunch, and then for Norman Neruda. Her attack and her bowing are splendid. What's that little thing of Chopin's she plays so magnificently: Tra-la-la-lira-lira-lay."

Leaning back in the cab, this amateur bloodhound carolled away like a lark while I meditated upon the many-sidedness of the human mind.
 

第四章　约翰·兰斯的叙述

我们离开劳瑞斯顿花园街号的时候，已是午后一点钟了。福尔摩斯同我到附近的电报局去拍了一封长电报。然后，他叫了一部马车，吩咐车夫把我们送到雷斯垂德告诉我们的那个地点。

福尔摩斯说：“什么也比不上直接取得的证据来得重要，其实，这个案子我早已胸有成竹了，可是咱们还是应当把要查明的情况弄个清楚。”

我说：“福尔摩斯，你真叫我莫名片妙。刚才你所说的那些细节，你自己也不见得象你假装的那样有把握吧。”

“我的话绝对没错。"他回答说，“一到那里，我首先便看到在马路石沿旁有两道马车车轮的痕迹。由于昨晚下雨以前，一个星期都是晴天，所以留下这个深深轮迹的马车一定是在夜间到那里的。除此以外，还有马蹄的印子。其中有一个蹄印比其它三个都要清楚得多，这就说明那只蹄铁是新换的。这辆车子既然是在下雨以后到那里的，同时根据葛莱森所说，整个早晨又没有车辆来过，由此可见，这辆马车一定是昨天夜间在那里停留过；因此，也就正是这辆马车把那两个人送到空房那里去的。”

“这看来好象很简单，"我说，“但是其中一人的身高你又是怎样知道的呢？”

“唔，一个人的身高，十之八九可以从他的步伐的长度上知道。计算方法虽然很简单，但是现在我一步步地教给你也没有什么用处。我是在屋外的粘土地上和屋内的尘土上量出那个人步伐的距离的。接着我又发现了一个验算我的计算结果是否正确的办法。大凡人在墙壁上写字的时候，很自然会写在和视线相片行的地方。现在壁上的字迹离地刚好六英尺。简直就象儿戏一样的简单。”

“至于他的年龄呢？"我又问道。

“好的，假若一个人能够毫不费力地一步跨过四英尺半，他决不会是一个老头儿。小花园里的甬道上就有那样宽的一个水洼，他分明是一步迈过去的，而起皮靴子却是绕着走的，方头靴子则是从上面迈过去的。这丝毫没有什么神秘的地方。我只不过是把我那篇文章中所提出的一些观察事物和推理的方法应用到日常生活上去罢了。你还有什么不解的地方吗？”

“手指甲和印度雪茄烟呢？"我又提醒他说。

“墙上的字是一个人用食指蘸着血写的。我用放大镜看出写字时有些墙粉被刮了下来。如果这个人指甲修剪过，决不会是这样的。我还从地板上收集到一些散落的烟灰，它的颜色很深而且是呈起状的，只有印度雪茄的烟灰才是这样。我曾经专门研究过雪茄烟灰。事实上，我还写过这方面的专题论文呢。我可以夸口，无论什么名牌的雪茄或纸烟的烟灰，只要我看上一眼，就能识别出来。正是在这些细微末节的地方，一个干练的侦探才与葛莱森、雷斯垂德之流有所不同。”

“还有那个红脸的问题呢？"我又问道。

“啊，那就是一个更为大胆的推测了，然而我确信我是正确的。在这个案件的目前情况下，你暂且不要问我这个问题吧。”

我用手摸了摸前额说：“我真有点晕头转向了，愈想愈觉得神秘莫测。比如说，如果真是两个人的话，那么这两个人究竟怎样进入空屋去的？送他们去的车夫又怎么样了？一个人怎能迫使另一个人服毒的？血又是从哪里来的？这案子既然不是图财害命，凶手的目的又是什么？女人的戒指又是从哪儿来的？最要紧的是，凶手在逃走之前为什么要在墙上写下德文字'复仇'呢？老实说，我实在想不出怎样把这些问题一一地联系起来。”

我的同伴赞许地微笑着。

他说：“你把案中疑难之点总结得很简洁、很扼要，总结得很好。虽然在主要情节上我已有了眉目，但是还有许多地方仍然不够清楚。至于雷斯垂德所发现的那个血字，只不过是一种圈套，暗示这是什么社会党或者秘密团体干的，企图把警察引入起途罢了。那字并不是个德国人写的。你如果注意一下，就可以看出字母Ａ多少是仿照德文样子写的。但是真正的德国人写的却常常是拉丁字体。因此我们可以十拿九稳地说，这字母绝不是德国人写的，而是出于一个不高明的摹仿者之手，并且他做的有点画蛇添足了。这不过是想要把侦查工作引入歧途的一个诡计而已。医生，关于这个案子我不预备再给你多讲些什么了。你知道魔术家一旦把自己的戏法说穿，他就得不到别人的赞赏了；如果把我的工作方法给你讲得太多的话，那么，你就会得出这样的结论：福尔摩斯这个人不过是一个十分平常的人物罢了。”

我回答说：“我决不会如此。侦探术迟早要发展成为一门精确的科学的，可是你已经差不多把它创立起来了。”

我的同伴听了这话，而且看到我说话时的诚恳态度，他高兴得涨红了脸。我早就看出，当他听到别人对他在侦探术上的成就加以赞扬时，他就会象任何一个姑娘听到别人称赞她的美貌时一样的敏感起来。

他说：“我再告诉你一件事。穿起皮靴的和穿方头靴的两个人是同乘一辆车子来的，而且好象非常友好似的，大概还是膀子挽着膀子一起从花园中小路上走过。他们进了屋子以后，还在屋子里走来走去；更确切地说，穿起皮靴子的是站立不动，而穿方头靴子的人却在屋中不停地走动。我从地板上的尘土上就能看出这些情况来。同时我也能看出，他愈走愈激动，因为他的步子愈走愈大，这就说明这一点。他一边走一边说着，终于狂怒起来，于是惨剧就发生了。现在我把我所知道的一切情况都告诉你了，剩下的只是一些猜测和臆断了。好在咱们已有了着手工作的好基础。咱们必须抓紧时间，因为我今天下午还要去听阿勒音乐会，听听诺尔曼•聂鲁达的音乐呢。”

在我们谈话的时候，车子不断地穿过昏暗的大街和气凉的小巷。到了一条最肮脏、最荒凉的巷口，车夫突然把车停了下来。“那边就是奥德利大院，"他指着一漆黑色砖墙之间的狭窄胡同说，“你们回来时到这里找我。”

奥德利大院并不是一个雅观的所在。我们走过一条狭窄的小胡同，便来到一个方形大院，院内地面是用石板铺成的，四面有一些肮脏简陋的住房。我们穿过一群一群衣着肮脏的孩子，钻过一行行晒得褪了色的衣服，最后来到号。号的门上钉着一个小铜牌，上面刻着"栾斯"字样。我们上前一问，才知道这位警察正在睡觉。我们便走进了前边一间小客厅里等他出来。

这位警察很快就出来了。由于被我们打搅了好梦，他有些不高兴。他说：“我已经在局里报告过了。”

福尔摩斯从衣袋里掏出一个半镑金币，若有所思地在手中玩弄着。他说：“我们想要请你从头到尾再亲口说一遍。”

这位警察两眼望着那个小金币回答说：“我很愿意把我所知道的一切奉告。”

“那么让我听一听事情发生的经过吧。你愿意怎样讲都可以。”

栾斯在马毛呢的沙发上坐了下来，他皱起眉头，好象下定决心不使他的叙述中有任何遗漏。

他说：“我把这事从头说起。我当班的时间是从晚上十点起到第二天早上六点。夜间十一点钟时，曾有人在白哈特街打架，除此以外，我巡逻的地区都很平静。夜里一点钟的时候，开始下起雨来。这时我遇见了亥瑞•摩契，他是在荷兰树林区一带巡逻的。我们两个人就站在亨瑞埃塔街转角的地方聊天。不久，大约在两点或两点稍过一点的时候，我想该转一遭了，看看布瑞克斯顿路是不是平静无事。这条路又泥泞又偏僻。一路上连个人影都没有，只有一两辆马车从我身旁驶过。我慢慢溜跶着，一边寻思要有热酒喝它一盅多美。这时，忽见那座房子的窗口闪闪地射出灯光。我知道劳瑞斯顿花园街的两所房子都是空着的，其中一所的最后一个房客得了伤寒病死了，可是房东还是不愿修理阴沟。所以我一看到那个窗口有灯光，就吓了一大跳，疑心出了什么差错。等我走到屋门口——”

“你就站住了，转身又走回小花园的门口，"我的同伴突然插嘴说，“你为什么要那样做呢？”

栾斯吓得跳了起来，满脸惊讶，瞪着一双大眼睛瞧着福尔摩斯。

“天哪，确是那样，先生，"他说，“可是您怎么会知道的，天晓得！你瞧，当我走到门口的时候，我觉得太孤单，太冷清了，我想最好还是找个人和我一起进去。我倒不怕人世上的什么东西，我当时忽然想起，也许这就是那个得了伤寒病死去的人，正在检查那个要了他的性命的阴沟吧。这样一想，吓得我转身就走，重新回到大门口去，看看是不是望得见摩契的提灯；可是连他的影子也瞧不见，也没见到别的人。”

“街上一个人也没有吗？”

“一个人影也没有，先生，连条狗都没有。我只好鼓起勇气，又走了回去，把门推开。里面静悄悄的，于是我就走进了那间有灯光的屋子里去。只见壁炉台上点着一支蜡烛，还是一支红蜡烛，烛光摇摆不定，烛光下只见——”

“好了，你所看见的情况我都知道了。你在屋中走了几圈，并且在死尸旁边跪了下来，以后又走过去推推厨房的门，后来——”

约翰•栾斯听到这里，突然跳了起来，满脸惊惧，眼中露出怀疑的神色。他大声说道：“当时你躲在什么地方，看得这样一清二楚？我看，这些事都是你不应该知道的。”

福尔摩斯笑了起来，拿出他的名片，隔着桌子丢给这位警察看。“可别把我当作凶手逮捕起来，"他说，“我也是一条猎犬而不是狼；这一点葛莱森和雷斯垂德先生都会证明的。那么，请接着讲下去。以后你又作了些什么呢？”

栾斯重新坐了下来，但是脸上狐疑的神气还没消除。"我走到大门口，吹起警笛。摩契和另外两个警察都应声而来。”

“当时街上什么都没有吗？”

“是呀，凡是正经点的人早都回家了。”

“这是什么意思？”

警察笑了一笑，他说：“我这辈子见过的醉汉可多了，可是从来没有见过象那个家伙那样烂醉如泥的。我出来的时候，他正站在门口，靠着栏杆，放开嗓门，大声唱着考棱班唱的那①段小调或是这一类的歌子。他简直连脚都站不住了，真没办法。”

①考棱班 Columbine 为一出喜剧中的女角。——译者注

“他是一个什么样的人？"福尔摩斯问道。

福尔摩斯这样一打岔，约翰•栾斯好象有些不高兴。他说：“他倒是一个少见的醉鬼。如果我们不那么忙的话，他免不了要被送到警察局去呢。”

“他的脸，他的衣服，你注意到没有？"福尔摩斯忍不住又插嘴问道。

“我想当时我确实注意到了，因为我和摩契还搀扶过他。他是一个高个子，红脸，下边一圈长着——”

“这就够了。"福尔摩斯大声说道，“后来他又怎么样了？”

“我们当时够忙的啦，哪有工夫去照管他。"他说。

接着这位警察又颇为不满地说：“我敢打赌，他满认得回家的路呢。”

“他穿的什么衣服？”

“一件棕色外衣。”

“手里有没有拿着马鞭子？”

“马鞭子？没有。”

“他一定是把它丢下了，"我的伙伴嘟囔着说，“后来你看见或者听见有辆马车过去吗？”

“没有。”

“这个半镑金币给你，"我的同伴说着就站起身来，戴上帽子，“栾斯，我恐怕你在警察大队里永远不会高升了。你的那个脑袋不该光是个装饰，也该有点用处才对。昨夜你本来可以捞个警长干干的。昨夜在你手里的那个人，就是这件神秘案子的线索，现在我们正在找他。这会儿再争论也没有什么用处了。我告诉你，事实就是这么回事。走吧，医生。”

说着我们就一起出来寻找我们的马车，剩下那个警察还在半信半疑，但是显然觉得不安。

我们坐着车子回家的时候，福尔摩斯狠狠地说：“这个大傻瓜！想想看，碰上这样一个千载难逢的好机会，他却把它白白地放过了。”

“我简直还是坠在五里雾中哩。诚然，这个警察所形容的那个人和你所想象的那人的情况正好一样，但是他干吗要去而复返呢？这不象罪犯应有的行径吧。”

“戒指，先生，戒指，他回来就是为了这个东西。咱们要是没有别的法子捉住他，就可以拿这个戒指当做钓饵，让他上钩。我一定会捉住他的，医生——我敢和你下二比一的赌注打个赌，我可以逮住他。这一切我倒要感激你啦。要不是你，我还不会去呢，那么我就要失掉这个从来没遇到过的最好的研究机会了。咱们叫它作'血字的研究'好吧？咱们何妨使用一些美丽的辞藻呢。在平淡无破的生活纠葛里，谋杀案就像一条红线一样，贯穿在中间。咱们的责任就是要去揭露它，把它从生活中清理出来，彻底地加以暴露。咱们先去吃饭，然后再去听听诺尔曼•聂鲁达的音乐演奏。她的指法和弓法简直妙极了。她演奏萧邦的那段什么小曲子真是妙极了：特拉—拉—拉—利拉—利拉—莱。”

这位非官方侦探家靠在马车上象只云雀似地唱个不停。我在默默沉思着；人类的头脑真是无所不能啊。

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