His Last Bow | Page 5

into an
official shape. You will come round with us to the station, Mr. Scott
Eccles, and let us have your statement in writing."
"Certainly, I will come at once. But I retain your services, Mr. Holmes.
I desire you to spare no expense and no pains to get at the truth."
My friend turned to the country inspector.
"I suppose that you have no objection to my collaborating with you, Mr.
Baynes?"
"Highly honoured, sir, I am sure."
"You appear to have been very prompt and businesslike in all that you
have done. Was there any clue, may I ask, as to the exact hour that the
man met his death?"
"He had been there since one o'clock. There was rain about that time,
and his death had certainly been before the rain."
"But that is perfectly impossible, Mr. Baynes," cried our client. "His
voice is unmistakable. I could swear to it that it was he who addressed
me in my bedroom at that very hour."
"Remarkable, but by no means impossible," said Holmes, smiling.
"You have a clue?" asked Gregson.
"On the face of it the case is not a very complex one, though it certainly

presents some novel and interesting features. A further knowledge of
facts is necessary before I would venture to give a final and definite
opinion. By the way, Mr. Baynes, did you find anything remarkable
besides this note in your examination of the house?"
The detective looked at my friend in a singular way.
"There were," said he, "one or two VERY remarkable things. Perhaps
when I have finished at the police-station you would care to come out
and give me your opinion of them."
In am entirely at your service," said Sherlock Holmes, ringing the bell.
"You will show these gentlemen out, Mrs. Hudson, and kindly send the
boy with this telegram. He is to pay a five- shilling reply."
We sat for some time in silence after our visitors had left. Holmes
smoked hard, with his browns drawn down over his keen eyes, and his
head thrust forward in the eager way characteristic of the man.
"Well, Watson," he asked, turning suddenly upon me, "what do you
make of it?"
"I can make nothing of this mystification of Scott Eccles."
"But the crime?"
"Well, taken with the disappearance of the man's companions, I should
say that they were in some way concerned in the murder and had fled
from justice."
"That is certainly a possible point of view. On the face of it you must
admit, however, that it is very strange that his two servants should have
been in a conspiracy against him and should have attacked him on the
one night when he had a guest. They had him alone at their mercy
every other night in the week."
"Then why did they fly?"
"Quite so. Why did they fly? There is a big fact. Another big fact is the

remarkable experience of our client, Scott Eccles. Now, my dear
Watson, is it beyond the limits of human ingenuity to furnish an
explanation which would cover both of these big facts? If it were one
which would also admit of the mysterious note with its very curious
phraseology, why, then it would be worth accepting as a temporary
hypothesis. If the fresh facts which come to our knowledge all fit
themselves into the scheme, then our hypothesis may gradually become
a solution."
"But what is our hypothesis?"
Holmes leaned back in his chair with half-closed eyes.
"You must admit, my dear Watson, that the idea of a joke is impossible.
There were grave events afoot, as the sequel showed, and the coaxing
of Scott Eccles to Wisteria Lodge had some connection with them."
"But what possible connection?"
"Let us take it link by link. There is, on the face of it, something
unnatural about this strange and sudden friendship between the young
Spaniard and Scott Eccles. It was the former who forced the pace. He
called upon Eccles at the other end of London on the very day after he
first met him, and he kept in close touch with him until he got him
down to Esher. Now, what did he want with Eccles? What could Eccles
supply? I see no charm in the man. He is not particulary intelligent--not
a man likely to be congenial to a quick-witted Latin. Why, then, was he
picked out from all the other people whom Garcia met as particularly
suited to his purpose? Has he any one outstanding quality? I say that he
has. He is the very type of conventional British respectability, and the
very man as a witness to impress another Briton. You saw yourself how
neither of the inspectors dreamed of questioning his statement,
extraordinary as it was."
"But what