Етюд у багряних тонах
What John Rance had to tell.
“Ah,thatwasamoredaringshot,thoughIhavenodoubtthatIwasright. Youmustnotaskmethatatthepresentstateoftheaffair.”
Ipassedmyhandovermybrow. “Myheadisinawhirl,”Iremarked;“themoreonethinksofitthemoremysteriousitgrows. Howcamethesetwomen—ifthereweretwomen—intoanemptyhouse? Whathasbecomeofthecabmanwhodrovethem? Howcouldonemancompelanothertotakepoison? Wheredidthebloodcomefrom? Whatwastheobjectofthemurderer,sincerobberyhadnopartinit? Howcamethewoman’sringthere? Aboveall,whyshouldthesecondmanwriteuptheGermanwordRACHEbeforedecamping? IconfessthatIcannotseeanypossiblewayofreconcilingallthesefacts.”
Mycompanionsmiledapprovingly.
“Yousumupthedifficultiesofthesituationsuccinctlyandwell,”hesaid. “Thereismuchthatisstillobscure,thoughIhavequitemadeupmymindonthemainfacts. AstopoorLestrade’sdiscoveryitwassimplyablindintendedtoputthepoliceuponawrongtrack,bysuggestingSocialismandsecretsocieties. ItwasnotdonebyaGerman. TheA,ifyounoticed,wasprintedsomewhataftertheGermanfashion. Now,arealGermaninvariablyprintsintheLatincharacter,sothatwemaysafelysaythatthiswasnotwrittenbyone,butbyaclumsyimitatorwhooverdidhispart. Itwassimplyarusetodivertinquiryintoawrongchannel. I’mnotgoingtotellyoumuchmoreofthecase,Doctor.
