The Adventure of the Cardboard Box (3 page)

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"Your case is not complete, then?" I asked.

"It is fairly complete in essentials. We know who the author of the
revolting business is, although one of the victims still escapes us.
Of course, you have formed your own conclusions."

"I presume that this Jim Browner, the steward of a Liverpool boat, is
the man whom you suspect?"

"Oh! it is more than a suspicion."

"And yet I cannot see anything save very vague indications."

"On the contrary, to my mind nothing could be more clear. Let me run
over the principal steps. We approached the case, you remember, with
an absolutely blank mind, which is always an advantage. We had formed
no theories. We were simply there to observe and to draw inferences
from our observations. What did we see first? A very placid and
respectable lady, who seemed quite innocent of any secret, and a
portrait which showed me that she had two younger sisters. It
instantly flashed across my mind that the box might have been meant for
one of these. I set the idea aside as one which could be disproved or
confirmed at our leisure. Then we went to the garden, as you remember,
and we saw the very singular contents of the little yellow box.

"The string was of the quality which is used by sail-makers aboard
ship, and at once a whiff of the sea was perceptible in our
investigation. When I observed that the knot was one which is popular
with sailors, that the parcel had been posted at a port, and that the
male ear was pierced for an earring which is so much more common among
sailors than landsmen, I was quite certain that all the actors in the
tragedy were to be found among our seafaring classes.

"When I came to examine the address of the packet I observed that it
was to Miss S. Cushing. Now, the oldest sister would, of course, be
Miss Cushing, and although her initial was 'S' it might belong to one
of the others as well. In that case we should have to commence our
investigation from a fresh basis altogether. I therefore went into the
house with the intention of clearing up this point. I was about to
assure Miss Cushing that I was convinced that a mistake had been made
when you may remember that I came suddenly to a stop. The fact was
that I had just seen something which filled me with surprise and at the
same time narrowed the field of our inquiry immensely.

"As a medical man, you are aware, Watson, that there is no part of the
body which varies so much as the human ear. Each ear is as a rule
quite distinctive and differs from all other ones. In last year's
Anthropological Journal you will find two short monographs from my pen
upon the subject. I had, therefore, examined the ears in the box with
the eyes of an expert and had carefully noted their anatomical
peculiarities. Imagine my surprise, then, when on looking at Miss
Cushing I perceived that her ear corresponded exactly with the female
ear which I had just inspected. The matter was entirely beyond
coincidence. There was the same shortening of the pinna, the same
broad curve of the upper lobe, the same convolution of the inner
cartilage. In all essentials it was the same ear.

"In the first place, her sister's name was Sarah, and her address had
until recently been the same, so that it was quite obvious how the
mistake had occurred and for whom the packet was meant. Then we heard
of this steward, married to the third sister, and learned that he had
at one time been so intimate with Miss Sarah that she had actually gone
up to Liverpool to be near the Browners, but a quarrel had afterwards
divided them. This quarrel had put a stop to all communications for
some months, so that if Browner had occasion to address a packet to
Miss Sarah, he would undoubtedly have done so to her old address.

"And now the matter had begun to straighten itself out wonderfully. We
had learned of the existence of this steward, an impulsive man, of
strong passions—you remember that he threw up what must have been a
very superior berth in order to be nearer to his wife—subject, too, to
occasional fits of hard drinking. We had reason to believe that his
wife had been murdered, and that a man—presumably a seafaring man—had
been murdered at the same time. Jealousy, of course, at once suggests
itself as the motive for the crime. And why should these proofs of the
deed be sent to Miss Sarah Cushing? Probably because during her
residence in Liverpool she had some hand in bringing about the events
which led to the tragedy. You will observe that this line of boats
call at Belfast, Dublin, and Waterford; so that, presuming that Browner
had committed the deed and had embarked at once upon his steamer, the
May Day, Belfast would be the first place at which he could post his
terrible packet.

"A second solution was at this stage obviously possible, and although I
thought it exceedingly unlikely, I was determined to elucidate it
before going further. An unsuccessful lover might have killed Mr. and
Mrs. Browner, and the male ear might have belonged to the husband.
There were many grave objections to this theory, but it was
conceivable. I therefore sent off a telegram to my friend Algar, of
the Liverpool force, and asked him to find out if Mrs. Browner were at
home, and if Browner had departed in the May Day. Then we went on to
Wallington to visit Miss Sarah.

"I was curious, in the first place, to see how far the family ear had
been reproduced in her. Then, of course, she might give us very
important information, but I was not sanguine that she would. She must
have heard of the business the day before, since all Croydon was
ringing with it, and she alone could have understood for whom the
packet was meant. If she had been willing to help justice she would
probably have communicated with the police already. However, it was
clearly our duty to see her, so we went. We found that the news of the
arrival of the packet—for her illness dated from that time—had such
an effect upon her as to bring on brain fever. It was clearer than
ever that she understood its full significance, but equally clear that
we should have to wait some time for any assistance from her.

"However, we were really independent of her help. Our answers were
waiting for us at the police-station, where I had directed Algar to
send them. Nothing could be more conclusive. Mrs. Browner's house had
been closed for more than three days, and the neighbours were of
opinion that she had gone south to see her relatives. It had been
ascertained at the shipping offices that Browner had left aboard of the
May Day, and I calculate that she is due in the Thames tomorrow night.
When he arrives he will be met by the obtuse but resolute Lestrade, and
I have no doubt that we shall have all our details filled in."

Sherlock Holmes was not disappointed in his expectations. Two days
later he received a bulky envelope, which contained a short note from
the detective, and a typewritten document, which covered several pages
of foolscap.

"Lestrade has got him all right," said Holmes, glancing up at me.
"Perhaps it would interest you to hear what he says.

"My dear Mr. Holmes:

In accordance with the scheme which we had formed in order to test our
theories"
("the 'we' is rather fine, Watson, is it not?")
"I went down
to the Albert Dock yesterday at 6 p.m., and boarded the S.S. May Day,
belonging to the Liverpool, Dublin, and London Steam Packet Company.
On inquiry, I found that there was a steward on board of the name of
James Browner and that he had acted during the voyage in such an
extraordinary manner that the captain had been compelled to relieve him
of his duties. On descending to his berth, I found him seated upon a
chest with his head sunk upon his hands, rocking himself to and fro.
He is a big, powerful chap, clean-shaven, and very swarthy—something
like Aldrige, who helped us in the bogus laundry affair. He jumped up
when he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my lips to call a
couple of river police, who were round the corner, but he seemed to
have no heart in him, and he held out his hands quietly enough for the
darbies. We brought him along to the cells, and his box as well, for
we thought there might be something incriminating; but, bar a big sharp
knife such as most sailors have, we got nothing for our trouble.
However, we find that we shall want no more evidence, for on being
brought before the inspector at the station he asked leave to make a
statement, which was, of course, taken down, just as he made it, by our
shorthand man. We had three copies typewritten, one of which I
enclose. The affair proves, as I always thought it would, to be an
extremely simple one, but I am obliged to you for assisting me in my
investigation. With kind regards,

"Yours very truly,
"G. Lestrade.

"Hum! The investigation really was a very simple one," remarked
Holmes, "but I don't think it struck him in that light when he first
called us in. However, let us see what Jim Browner has to say for
himself. This is his statement as made before Inspector Montgomery at
the Shadwell Police Station, and it has the advantage of being
verbatim."

"'Have I anything to say? Yes, I have a deal to say. I have to make a
clean breast of it all. You can hang me, or you can leave me alone. I
don't care a plug which you do. I tell you I've not shut an eye in
sleep since I did it, and I don't believe I ever will again until I get
past all waking. Sometimes it's his face, but most generally it's
hers. I'm never without one or the other before me. He looks frowning
and black-like, but she has a kind o' surprise upon her face. Ay, the
white lamb, she might well be surprised when she read death on a face
that had seldom looked anything but love upon her before.

"'But it was Sarah's fault, and may the curse of a broken man put a
blight on her and set the blood rotting in her veins! It's not that I
want to clear myself. I know that I went back to drink, like the beast
that I was. But she would have forgiven me; she would have stuck as
close to me a rope to a block if that woman had never darkened our
door. For Sarah Cushing loved me—that's the root of the business—she
loved me until all her love turned to poisonous hate when she knew that
I thought more of my wife's footmark in the mud than I did of her whole
body and soul.

"'There were three sisters altogether. The old one was just a good
woman, the second was a devil, and the third was an angel. Sarah was
thirty-three, and Mary was twenty-nine when I married. We were just as
happy as the day was long when we set up house together, and in all
Liverpool there was no better woman than my Mary. And then we asked
Sarah up for a week, and the week grew into a month, and one thing led
to another, until she was just one of ourselves.

"'I was blue ribbon at that time, and we were putting a little money
by, and all was as bright as a new dollar. My God, whoever would have
thought that it could have come to this? Whoever would have dreamed it?

"'I used to be home for the week-ends very often, and sometimes if the
ship were held back for cargo I would have a whole week at a time, and
in this way I saw a deal of my sister-in-law, Sarah. She was a fine
tall woman, black and quick and fierce, with a proud way of carrying
her head, and a glint from her eye like a spark from a flint. But when
little Mary was there I had never a thought of her, and that I swear as
I hope for God's mercy.

"'It had seemed to me sometimes that she liked to be alone with me, or
to coax me out for a walk with her, but I had never thought anything of
that. But one evening my eyes were opened. I had come up from the ship
and found my wife out, but Sarah at home. "Where's Mary?" I asked.
"Oh, she has gone to pay some accounts." I was impatient and paced up
and down the room. "Can't you be happy for five minutes without Mary,
Jim?" says she. "It's a bad compliment to me that you can't be
contented with my society for so short a time." "That's all right, my
lass," said I, putting out my hand towards her in a kindly way, but she
had it in both hers in an instant, and they burned as if they were in a
fever. I looked into her eyes and I read it all there. There was no
need for her to speak, nor for me either. I frowned and drew my hand
away. Then she stood by my side in silence for a bit, and then put up
her hand and patted me on the shoulder. "Steady old Jim!" said she,
and with a kind o' mocking laugh, she ran out of the room.

"'Well, from that time Sarah hated me with her whole heart and soul,
and she is a woman who can hate, too. I was a fool to let her go on
biding with us—a besotted fool—but I never said a word to Mary, for I
knew it would grieve her. Things went on much as before, but after a
time I began to find that there was a bit of a change in Mary herself.
She had always been so trusting and so innocent, but now she became
queer and suspicious, wanting to know where I had been and what I had
been doing, and whom my letters were from, and what I had in my
pockets, and a thousand such follies. Day by day she grew queerer and
more irritable, and we had ceaseless rows about nothing. I was fairly
puzzled by it all. Sarah avoided me now, but she and Mary were just
inseparable. I can see now how she was plotting and scheming and
poisoning my wife's mind against me, but I was such a blind beetle that
I could not understand it at the time. Then I broke my blue ribbon and
began to drink again, but I think I should not have done it if Mary had
been the same as ever. She had some reason to be disgusted with me now,
and the gap between us began to be wider and wider. And then this Alec
Fairbairn chipped in, and things became a thousand times blacker.

"'It was to see Sarah that he came to my house first, but soon it was
to see us, for he was a man with winning ways, and he made friends
wherever he went. He was a dashing, swaggering chap, smart and curled,
who had seen half the world and could talk of what he had seen. He was
good company, I won't deny it, and he had wonderful polite ways with
him for a sailor man, so that I think there must have been a time when
he knew more of the poop than the forecastle. For a month he was in
and out of my house, and never once did it cross my mind that harm
might come of his soft, tricky ways. And then at last something made
me suspect, and from that day my peace was gone forever.

BOOK: The Adventure of the Cardboard Box
3.7Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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