Read Online Sherlock Holmes Stories of Edward D. Hoch by Edward D. Hoch - Free Book Online
Authors: Edward D. Hoch
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examining the man’s belt and shoes.
“Interesting,” he said. “All right, you can take him away now.”
He straightened up and smiled at me. “I believe we must return to London, Watson, on the first available train.”
“You are abandoning the investigation?”
“Merely trying a new course to the truth.”
We went back inside while he explained to Sir Patrick that he must continue the investigation in London.
He turned to the officer who had questioned us. “Sergeant Wegand, we have only forty-five minutes to catch the next train. If you are going back, could you give us a ride to the station?”
Sir Patrick protested. “My butler could take you.”
“No, no. The sergeant is going our way.”
Wegand grumbled a bit, but Holmes spoke to him in a soft voice and he agreed. We quickly packed our bags and said goodbye to all. The actress, Madeline Oaks, seemed sorry to see me go, and I promised to attend her next London opening.
On our journey to Reading Station, a thought occurred to me.
“Dr. Prouty and his wife departed yesterday. Is it possible one of them might have returned to kill Haskin?”
“Anything is possible, Watson. Let us see what we find at our destination.”
We arrived at Reading Station with only minutes to spare. Already in possession of our return tickets, we hastened to the platform. I was a bit surprised to see Sergeant Wegand coming with us and wondered what Holmes had said to him.
The three of us boarded the train together, avoiding the first-class carriages and going directly to the coaches. Holmes strode down the aisle quickly, eyes straight ahead, and it was not until we’d passed through to the second coach that he suddenly pounced, reaching across an empty seat to fasten upon an unshaven man in dirty clothes who sat staring out the window at the platform.
“Here, Sergeant!” Holmes announced. “Arrest this man! He is the triple killer you are seeking.”
The officer was taken by surprise. “My God! The escaped convict?”
“No, no. Let me introduce you to Mr. Haskin Zehn, returned from the dead, but no less dangerous for that.”
Later, after we’d returned to Stacy Manor for the explanations Holmes felt they deserved, we sat once again in the library with Sir Patrick and his wife. Their other guests had departed soon after we did, perhaps fearing more violence. But Holmes assured them it was over.
“I can’t believe that Haskin would do such a thing,” Elizabeth White said. “What could possibly have been his motive?”
“His original motive involved only the publisher, Oscar Rhinebeck. You told me, Sir Patrick, that Rhinebeck had suggested greatly enlarging your zoo, hiring a professional staff and opening it to the public. Haskin feared his beloved animals would be taken away from him and, in a moment of anger, he struck Rhinebeck with a poker, inflicting a fatal wound.”
“What about the playing cards and the other killings?” Sir Patrick asked.
Holmes, relaxing at last, had taken out his pipe as he spoke.
“The business with the playing cards was meant merely to confuse us, and it did just that. I overlooked one crucial clue for too long—it might even be called the clue of the clue. The bloody trail showed that the first victim, Rhinebeck, had dragged himself to the card table and used his final moments of life to choose that ten of spades as a clue to his killer’s identity. But consider the later killings and you’ll note some vastly different circumstances. Agnes Baxter was stabbed in the chest in her bedroom, killed instantly. The third victim died in a locked lion’s cage. Certainly neither of these was in a position to choose a playing card in their final seconds of life.”
“Of course not!” Sir Patrick agreed. “The murderer left them!”
“Obviously. And yet the first card, that ten of spades, had been chosen by the victim. The bloody trail told us so. Conclusion? After that first, legitimate clue, the killer left more
“Interesting,” he said. “All right, you can take him away now.”
He straightened up and smiled at me. “I believe we must return to London, Watson, on the first available train.”
“You are abandoning the investigation?”
“Merely trying a new course to the truth.”
We went back inside while he explained to Sir Patrick that he must continue the investigation in London.
He turned to the officer who had questioned us. “Sergeant Wegand, we have only forty-five minutes to catch the next train. If you are going back, could you give us a ride to the station?”
Sir Patrick protested. “My butler could take you.”
“No, no. The sergeant is going our way.”
Wegand grumbled a bit, but Holmes spoke to him in a soft voice and he agreed. We quickly packed our bags and said goodbye to all. The actress, Madeline Oaks, seemed sorry to see me go, and I promised to attend her next London opening.
On our journey to Reading Station, a thought occurred to me.
“Dr. Prouty and his wife departed yesterday. Is it possible one of them might have returned to kill Haskin?”
“Anything is possible, Watson. Let us see what we find at our destination.”
We arrived at Reading Station with only minutes to spare. Already in possession of our return tickets, we hastened to the platform. I was a bit surprised to see Sergeant Wegand coming with us and wondered what Holmes had said to him.
The three of us boarded the train together, avoiding the first-class carriages and going directly to the coaches. Holmes strode down the aisle quickly, eyes straight ahead, and it was not until we’d passed through to the second coach that he suddenly pounced, reaching across an empty seat to fasten upon an unshaven man in dirty clothes who sat staring out the window at the platform.
“Here, Sergeant!” Holmes announced. “Arrest this man! He is the triple killer you are seeking.”
The officer was taken by surprise. “My God! The escaped convict?”
“No, no. Let me introduce you to Mr. Haskin Zehn, returned from the dead, but no less dangerous for that.”
Later, after we’d returned to Stacy Manor for the explanations Holmes felt they deserved, we sat once again in the library with Sir Patrick and his wife. Their other guests had departed soon after we did, perhaps fearing more violence. But Holmes assured them it was over.
“I can’t believe that Haskin would do such a thing,” Elizabeth White said. “What could possibly have been his motive?”
“His original motive involved only the publisher, Oscar Rhinebeck. You told me, Sir Patrick, that Rhinebeck had suggested greatly enlarging your zoo, hiring a professional staff and opening it to the public. Haskin feared his beloved animals would be taken away from him and, in a moment of anger, he struck Rhinebeck with a poker, inflicting a fatal wound.”
“What about the playing cards and the other killings?” Sir Patrick asked.
Holmes, relaxing at last, had taken out his pipe as he spoke.
“The business with the playing cards was meant merely to confuse us, and it did just that. I overlooked one crucial clue for too long—it might even be called the clue of the clue. The bloody trail showed that the first victim, Rhinebeck, had dragged himself to the card table and used his final moments of life to choose that ten of spades as a clue to his killer’s identity. But consider the later killings and you’ll note some vastly different circumstances. Agnes Baxter was stabbed in the chest in her bedroom, killed instantly. The third victim died in a locked lion’s cage. Certainly neither of these was in a position to choose a playing card in their final seconds of life.”
“Of course not!” Sir Patrick agreed. “The murderer left them!”
“Obviously. And yet the first card, that ten of spades, had been chosen by the victim. The bloody trail told us so. Conclusion? After that first, legitimate clue, the killer left more
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