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fingernails. The other is a man of simpler tastes, wearing new boots with
rounded toes, a brown tweed suit, and kindly note, Russell a dark blue woollen
knit cap. One of them sports a neck scarf of white cashmere and a camel-hair
overcoat probably Pointed Toes. Of the third party, the director of the
operation, I can say only that he has unfashionably long grey hair and
displayed an entirely unwarranted confidence in the abilities of his
confederates by remaining in the car while the house was being ransacked. He
rattled off the final information in an uninterested rush and turned to wave
the paper at me.  I say, Russell, do you remember that forgery case we handled
two years ago? I m suddenly struck by the fact 
 Mr Holmes! Lestrade bristled in irritation, and Holmes looked at him in
surprise.
 Yes, Lestrade?
 Who are these men?
 I ve just told you.
 But who are they?
 My dear Lestrade, I bowed beneath the concerted authority of the only two
people in the world, aside from my sovereign, who have any influence over me,
under the insistence that Scotland Yard ought to be given a chance to prove
themselves capable of hunting down the murderers of Dorothy Ruskin. I have
told you who they are. You need only find them. He turned imperiously away
from the near-frantic police detective, shot me a glance that was perilously
close to a wink, and dropped to the floor amidst his papers, his right knee
tucked under his chin.
Lestrade looked torn between tearing his thinning hair in despair and storming
angrily out. I relented and explained what he had seen but not truly observed.
 They were looking for a piece of paper, Inspector Lestrade. When they didn t
find it amongst her things, they came here, possibly assuming that she was
bringing it to us.
 What sort of paper?
 That, we don t know yet.
 Then how do you know it was a piece of paper?
Holmes made a rude noise. I ignored him.
 The way they searched, both here and in her hotel room. The books were shaken
out before being dumped, the pictures taken from their frames, carpets pulled
up, our various files carefully gone through and a number of pages stolen.
 But you said she left you some papers?
 A single manuscript page, but it s made of papyrus. It wouldn t have fit into
a book without being folded, which would damage it.
 Would they have known that?
 Lestrade, exclaimed Holmes from his nest of débris on the floor,  that was a
most perceptive question. Russell, I do believe a cup of tea would come most
welcome to all concerned and that Mr Ellis is finished in the kitchen. Would
you be so good& 
I accepted my charge and waded out to the kitchen, where I scraped a handful
of tea leaves and some sugar from the floor, found a kettle, though no lid,
and four mostly unbroken cups. By the time I had found the bread under a
saucepan and trimmed the grimy outside from a piece of cheese, the situation
was beginning to amuse me. I hunted for an unbroken jar of relish or pickle,
discovered triumphantly a large bottle of pickled onions, and thus assembled a
rather strange but quite edible meal.
 Holmes? I called.
 Yes, Russell.
 I d like to get this cleared up before Mrs Hudson returns. She ll be back
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tomorrow, you said?
 Yes.
 Shall I ring Tillie and see if she can send over a pair of her girls to help?
Or would you prefer to keep this out of the mouths of the village gossips?
 I d rather, if you think we can do it ourselves.
 Probably a good idea. I could ask Patrick to come over with Tillie tonight
for a while. That might help, and they wouldn t talk.
I poured the boiling water over the leaves, ignoring a few stray sultanas that
clung to the tea, and took the tray into the sitting room. I didn t like the
look on Lestrade s face, and I glanced quickly at Holmes for confirmation.
 Yes, Russell, the good inspector has his doubts.
 Now, Mr Holmes, that s not entirely true. If you say there s something in
this, I ll believe you. What I said was that I m going to have trouble
convincing my superiors that there s a case here. An old lady has an accident
and your house is turned upside down, but deliberate murder? It s a damned
awkward pardon me, Miss Russell it s an awkward way of committing murder, with
a car. Takes some explaining to do.
 I say, Lestrade, you are coming along nicely. That s twice in the past half
hour, Holmes began, but I smothered his words with anger. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]