Read Online The Further Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: The Whitechapel Horrors by Edward B. Hanna - Free Book Online Page B

that hallway for days, even weeks.”
    Holmes shook his head. “The tobacco is still quite fresh: The cigarette was discarded quite recently. Fortunately, the owner did not grind it underfoot, but merely crushed it with his toe, and he could have taken only two or three puffs, because the fag end is quite long, almost complete. As to your first point, Inspector, we certainly don’t know it is the killer’s, I grant you that. But in the absence of any other tangible leads, it is a line of inquiry I shall gladly follow.”
    Chandler, in a tone of voice containing more than a hint of doubt, joined the conversation: “There are many smokers present among us, Mr. Holmes. You yourself are one, I believe, as is Dr. Watson, whom I observed smoking a cigarette a short while ago. Surely, it could belong to any one of us.”
    Holmes gave him an indulgent smile. “Not Watson’s brand,” he replied tersely. “His bears the imprint of his tobacconist, Bradley. Nor is it mine, since I have not yet indulged this morning. As to the possibility that it belongs to one of your colleagues in the department, Inspector, unless the Home Office has granted the Metropolitan Police a handsome increase in emolument that has escaped my attention, I should be very much surprised if many policemen could afford the price of these. It is a custom Turkish blend, I do believe, and the paper is of the finest quality. It is not a common brand you will find at your corner tobacconist’s; I doubt if they’re obtainable for less than seven and six the hundred.”
    Both Abberline and Chandler considered this new information. Chandler scratched his ear thoughtfully. “I don’t know. Even if you’re right, such a trifle doesn’t tell us much.”
    “My dear Inspector Abberline, my method is based upon the examination of such trifles. It has long been an axiom of mine that it’s the little things that are infinitely the most important. Whatever this ‘trifle’ may or may not tell you, it tells me volumes. It tells me that the man who smoked it is someone of substance, a gentleman of refined tastes with the wherewithal to indulge them. It tells me that he was present at this location less than twenty-four hours ago, probably less than twelve. It tells me he was in somewhat of a hurry, for he took only two or three puffs. And that he tarried at all to do even that tells me that he is addicted to tobacco and is no doubt a heavy smoker. I would venture to say that he knows the district well and is no stranger to it, otherwise it is unlikely he would have found his way to this particular doorway off this particular street by sheer happenstance. It is, you will agree, a rather unsavory address and a good bit off the beaten path. Shall I continue?”
    At a loss for words, the two policemen shook their heads. They both seemed considerably chastened.
    Holmes bowed politely. “I would suggest, gentlemen, that you might gain some profit in having your men scour the streets between here and the major thoroughfares around us for other specimens of this cigarette. I should pay particular attention to street corners normally frequented by cabbies. It is possible that our friend hailed a hansom at some point; it is most unlikely he would have ventured far on foot. We may find he has left us a trail to follow.
    “In the meantime, I shall hold on to this for the moment, if I may,” Holmes said, tucking the cigarette carefully into an envelope he had taken from his pocket, and then into his wallet. “I believe it may have even more to tell us once I have had the opportunity to examine it at greater length and submit it to chemical analysis.”
    “You are welcome to it, of course,” said Abberline. “I’ve heard you’re an authority on the diverse varieties of tobacco, Mr. Holmes, but still —”
    “No, Inspector,” he interrupted, quietly and matter-of-factly, “I am the authority.” With that, he turned away, leaving the two policemen with jaws agape.