Етюд у багряних тонах
The Lauriston Garden Mystery
Ashespoke,hisnimblefingerswereflyinghere,there,andeverywhere,feeling,pressing,unbuttoning,examining,whilehiseyesworethesamefar-awayexpressionwhichIhavealreadyremarkedupon. Soswiftlywastheexaminationmade,thatonewouldhardlyhaveguessedtheminutenesswithwhichitwasconducted. Finally,hesniffedthedeadman’slips,andthenglancedatthesolesofhispatentleatherboots.
“Hehasnotbeenmovedatall?”heasked.
“Nomorethanwasnecessaryforthepurposesofourexamination.”
“Youcantakehimtothemortuarynow,”hesaid. “Thereisnothingmoretobelearned.”
Gregsonhadastretcherandfourmenathand. Athiscalltheyenteredtheroom,andthestrangerwasliftedandcarriedout. Astheyraisedhim,aringtinkleddownandrolledacrossthefloor. Lestradegrabbeditupandstaredatitwithmystifiedeyes.
“There’sbeenawomanhere,”hecried. “It’sawoman’swedding-ring.”
Hehelditout,ashespoke,uponthepalmofhishand. Weallgatheredroundhimandgazedatit. Therecouldbenodoubtthatthatcircletofplaingoldhadonceadornedthefingerofabride.
“Thiscomplicatesmatters,”saidGregson. “Heavenknows,theywerecomplicatedenoughbefore.”
“You’resureitdoesn’tsimplifythem?”observedHolmes. “There’snothingtobelearnedbystaringatit. Whatdidyoufindinhispockets?”
“Wehaveitallhere,”saidGregson,pointingtoalitterofobjectsupononeofthebottomstepsofthestairs.
