PART I.
3. CHAPTER III. THE LAURISTON GARDENS MYSTERY
(continued)
Sherlock Holmes approached the body, and, kneeling down,
examined it intently. "You are sure that there is no wound?"
he asked, pointing to numerous gouts and splashes of blood
which lay all round.
"Positive!" cried both detectives.
"Then, of course, this blood belongs to a second individual --
presumably the murderer, if murder has been committed.
It reminds me of the circumstances attendant on the death
of Van Jansen, in Utrecht, in the year '34. Do you remember
the case, Gregson?"
"No, sir."
"Read it up -- you really should. There is nothing new under
the sun. It has all been done before."
As he spoke, his nimble fingers were flying here, there,
and everywhere, feeling, pressing, unbuttoning, examining,
while his eyes wore the same far-away expression which I have
already remarked upon. So swiftly was the examination made,
that one would hardly have guessed the minuteness with which
it was conducted. Finally, he sniffed the dead man's lips,
and then glanced at the soles of his patent leather boots.
"He has not been moved at all?" he asked.
"No more than was necessary for the purposes of our examination."
"You can take him to the mortuary now," he said.
"There is nothing more to be learned."
Gregson had a stretcher and four men at hand. At his call
they entered the room, and the stranger was lifted and
carried out. As they raised him, a ring tinkled down and
rolled across the floor. Lestrade grabbed it up and stared
at it with mystified eyes.
"There's been a woman here," he cried. "It's a woman's
wedding-ring."
He held it out, as he spoke, upon the palm of his hand.
We all gathered round him and gazed at it. There could be no
doubt that that circlet of plain gold had once adorned the
finger of a bride.
|