Приключения Шерлока Холмса / The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Артур Конан Дойл

Скачать книгу

the comical side of the affair was so obvious that we both burst out laughing.

      “I cannot see that there is anything very funny,” cried our client. “If you can do nothing better than laugh at me, I can go to another detective.”

      “No, no,” cried Holmes. “I really wouldn’t miss your case for the world[10]. It is most unusual. But there is something a little funny about it. What did you do when you found the note on the door?”

      “I was astonished, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I called at the offices round, but nobody knew anything about it. I went to the landlord, who is living on the ground-floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had become of the Red-headed League. He said that he had never heard of it. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Ross was. He answered that the name was new to him.

      “Well,” said I, “the gentleman at No. 4.”

      “What, the red-headed man?”

      “Yes.”

      “Oh,” said he, “his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor and was using my room until his new office was ready. He moved out yesterday.”

      “Where can I find him?”

      “Oh, at his new office. He told me the address. Yes, 17 King Edward Street.”

      “I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was a manufactory, and no one in it had ever heard of either Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross.”

      “And what did you do then?” asked Holmes.

      “I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of my assistant. But he could not help me. He could only say that if I waited I might get a letter. But that was not good enough, Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a place without a struggle, so, as I had heard that you gave good advice to poor people, I came to you.”

      “And you did very well,” said Holmes. “Your case is remarkable, and I shall be happy to look into it. The affair may be very serious.”

      “Of course serious!” said Mr. Jabez Wilson. “I have lost four pounds a week.”

      “As far as you are personally concerned[11],” remarked Holmes, “I do not see that you have anything against this extraordinary league. On the contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by about 30 pounds, to say nothing of the knowledge which you have got on every subject which comes under the letter A. You have lost nothing.”

      “No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, and why they played this trick—if it was a trick – on me. It was a pretty expensive joke for them, for it cost them thirty-two pounds.”

      “We shall try to clear up these points for you. And, first, one or two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours who first brought you the advertisement—how long had he been with you?”

      “About a month then.”

      “How did he come?”

      “In answer to an advertisement.”

      “Was he the only who answered the advertisement?”

      “No, I had a dozen.”

      “Why did you choose him?”

      “Because he was cheap.”

      “At half wages.”

      “Yes.”

      “What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?”

      “Small, very quick, no hair on his face, about thirty. He has a white scar on his forehead.”

      Holmes sat up in his chair very much excited. “I thought as much[12],” said he. “Are his ears pierced for earrings?”

      “Yes, sir. He told me he had done it when he was a boy.”

      “He is still with you?”

      “Oh, yes, sir; I have only just left him.”

      “And has he worked well in your absence?”

      “Yes, sir. There’s never very much to do in the morning.”

      “That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinion on the matter in a day or two. Today is Saturday, and I hope that by Monday we may come to a conclusion.”

      “Well, Watson,” said Holmes when our visitor had left us, “what do you make of it all[13]?”

      “I make nothing of it,” I answered. “It is a very mysterious business.”

      “As a rule,” said Holmes, “the more unusual a thing is the less mysterious it is in the end. But I must hurry up.”

      “What are you going to do, then?” I asked.

      “To smoke,” he answered. “It is a three pipe problem[14], and I ask you not to speak to me for fifty minutes.” He sat in his chair, with his eyes closed. I had come to the conclusion that he had fallen asleep, when he suddenly sprang out of his chair like a man who had made up his mind and put his pipe down on the table.

      “What do you think, Watson? Could you come with me for a few hours?” he said.

      “I have nothing to do today. My practice is never very busy.”

      We travelled by the Underground first; and then a short walk took us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the unusual story which we had listened to in the morning. It was a little, shabby place, where two-storeyed houses looked out into a small garden. A brown board with “JABEZ WILSON” in white letters on a corner house showed us the place where our red-headed client carried on his business. Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it and looked it all over. Then he walked slowly up the street, and then down again to the corner, still looking at the houses. Finally he returned to the pawnbroker’s, struck on the ground with his stick two or three times, went up to the door and knocked. It was opened by a young fellow, who asked him to come in.

      “Thank you,” said Holmes, “I only wished to ask you how I could go from here to the Strand[15].”

      “The first turning to the left,” answered the assistant, closing the door.

      “Smart fellow,” remarked Holmes as we walked away. “I think, he is the fourth smartest man in London. I have known something of him before.”

      “Evidently,” said I, “Mr. Wilson’s assistant is involved in this mystery of the Red-headed League. I am sure that you asked your way only to see him.”

      “Not him.”

      “What then?”

      “The knees of his trousers.”

      “And what did you see?”

Скачать книгу