Убийство на улице Морг

           Itwashishumor,now,todeclineallconversationonthesubjectofthemurder,untilaboutnoonthenextday.Hethenaskedme,suddenly,ifIhadobservedanythingpeculiaratthesceneoftheatrocity. 

           Therewassomethinginhismannerofemphasizingtheword“peculiar,”whichcausedmetoshudder,withoutknowingwhy. 

           “No,nothingpeculiar,”Isaid;“nothingmore,atleast,thanwebothsawstatedinthepaper.” 

           “The‘Gazette,’”hereplied,“hasnotentered,Ifear,intotheunusualhorrorofthething.Butdismisstheidleopinionsofthisprint.Itappearstomethatthismysteryisconsideredinsoluble,fortheveryreasonwhichshouldcauseittoberegardedaseasyofsolution—Imeanfortheoutrecharacterofitsfeatures.Thepoliceareconfoundedbytheseemingabsenceofmotive—notforthemurderitself—butfortheatrocityofthemurder.Theyarepuzzled,too,bytheseemingimpossibilityofreconcilingthevoicesheardincontention,withthefactsthatnoonewasdiscoveredupstairsbuttheassassinatedMademoiselleL’Espanaye,andthattherewerenomeansofegresswithoutthenoticeofthepartyascending.Thewilddisorderoftheroom;thecorpsethrust,withtheheaddownward,upthechimney;thefrightfulmutilationofthebodyoftheoldlady;theseconsiderationswiththosejustmentioned,andotherswhichIneednotmention,havesufficedtoparalyzethepowers,byputtingcompletelyatfaulttheboastedacumen,ofthegovernmentagents.