The Adventure of the Cardboard Box
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Sir Arthur Conan Doyle >> The Adventure of the Cardboard Box
"Your case is not complete, then?" I asked.
"It is fairly complete in essentials. We know who the author of
the revolting business is, although one of the victims still
escapes us. Of course, you have formed your own conclusions."
"I presume that this Jim Browner, the steward of a Liverpool
boat, is the man whom you suspect?"
"Oh! it is more than a suspicion."
"And yet I cannot see anything save very vague indications."
"On the contrary, to my mind nothing could be more clear. Let me
run over the principal steps. We approached the case, you
remember, with an absolutely blank mind, which is always an
advantage. We had formed no theories. We were simply there to
observe and to draw inferences from our observations. What did
we see first? A very placid and respectable lady, who seemed
quite innocent of any secret, and a portrait which showed me that
she had two younger sisters. It instantly flashed across my mind
that the box might have been meant for one of these. I set the
idea aside as one which could be disproved or confirmed at our
leisure. Then we went to the garden, as you remember, and we saw
the very singular contents of the little yellow box.
"The string was of the quality which is used by sail-makers
aboard ship, and at once a whiff of the sea was perceptible in
our investigation. When I observed that the knot was one which
is popular with sailors, that the parcel had been posted at a
port, and that the male ear was pierced for an earring which is
so much more common among sailors than landsmen, I was quite
certain that all the actors in the tragedy were to be found among
our seafaring classes.
"When I came to examine the address of the packet I observed that
it was to Miss S. Cushing. Now, the oldest sister would, of
course, be Miss Cushing, and although her initial was 'S' it
might belong to one of the others as well. In that case we
should have to commence our investigation from a fresh basis
altogether. I therefore went into the house with the intention
of clearing up this point. I was about to assure Miss Cushing
that I was convinced that a mistake had been made when you may
remember that I came suddenly to a stop. The fact was that I had
just seen something which filled me with surprise and at the same
time narrowed the field of our inquiry immensely.
"As a medical man, you are aware, Watson, that there is no part
of the body which varies so much as the human ear. Each ear is
as a rule quite distinctive and differs from all other ones. In
last year's Anthropological Journal you will find two short
monographs from my pen upon the subject. I had, therefore,
examined the ears in the box with the eyes of an expert and had
carefully noted their anatomical peculiarities. Imagine my
surprise, then, when on looking at Miss Cushing I perceived that
her ear corresponded exactly with the female ear which I had just
inspected. The matter was entirely beyond coincidence. There
was the same shortening of the pinna, the same broad curve of the
upper lobe, the same convolution of the inner cartilage. In all
essentials it was the same ear.
"In the first place, her sister's name was Sarah, and her address
had until recently been the same, so that it was quite obvious
how the mistake had occurred and for whom the packet was meant.
Then we heard of this steward, married to the third sister, and
learned that he had at one time been so intimate with Miss Sarah
that she had actually gone up to Liverpool to be near the
Browners, but a quarrel had afterwards divided them. This
quarrel had put a stop to all communications for some months, so
that if Browner had occasion to address a packet to Miss Sarah,
he would undoubtedly have done so to her old address.
"And now the matter had begun to straighten itself out
wonderfully. We had learned of the existence of this steward, an
impulsive man, of strong passions--you remember that he threw up
what must have been a very superior berth in order to be nearer
to his wife--subject, too, to occasional fits of hard drinking.
We had reason to believe that his wife had been murdered, and
that a man--presumably a seafaring man--had been murdered at the
same time. Jealousy, of course, at once suggests itself as the
motive for the crime. And why should these proofs of the deed be
sent to Miss Sarah Cushing? Probably because during her
residence in Liverpool she had some hand in bringing about the
events which led to the tragedy. You will observe that this line
of boats call at Belfast, Dublin, and Waterford; so that,
presuming that Browner had committed the deed and had embarked at
once upon his steamer, the May Day, Belfast would be the first
place at which he could post his terrible packet.
"A second solution was at this stage obviously possible, and
although I thought it exceedingly unlikely, I was determined to
elucidate it before going further. An unsuccessful lover might
have killed Mr. and Mrs. Browner, and the male ear might have
belonged to the husband. There were many grave objections to
this theory, but it was conceivable. I therefore sent off a
telegram to my friend Algar, of the Liverpool force, and asked
him to find out if Mrs. Browner were at home, and if Browner had
departed in the May Day. Then we went on to Wallington to visit
Miss Sarah.
"I was curious, in the first place, to see how far the family ear
had been reproduced in her. Then, of course, she might give us
very important information, but I was not sanguine that she
would. She must have heard of the business the day before, since
all Croydon was ringing with it, and she alone could have
understood for whom the packet was meant. If she had been
willing to help justice she would probably have communicated with
the police already. However, it was clearly our duty to see her,
so we went. We found that the news of the arrival of the packet--
for her illness dated from that time--had such an effect upon
her as to bring on brain fever. It was clearer than ever that
she understood its full significance, but equally clear that we
should have to wait some time for any assistance from her.
"However, we were really independent of her help. Our answers
were waiting for us at the police-station, where I had directed
Algar to send them. Nothing could be more conclusive. Mrs.
Browner's house had been closed for more than three days, and the
neighbours were of opinion that she had gone south to see her
relatives. It had been ascertained at the shipping offices that
Browner had left aboard of the May Day, and I calculate that she
is due in the Thames tomorrow night. When he arrives he will be
met by the obtuse but resolute Lestrade, and I have no doubt that
we shall have all our details filled in."
Sherlock Holmes was not disappointed in his expectations. Two
days later he received a bulky envelope, which contained a short
note from the detective, and a typewritten document, which
covered several pages of foolscap.
"Lestrade has got him all right," said Holmes, glancing up at me.
"Perhaps it would interest you to hear what he says.
"My dear Mr. Holmes:
In accordance with the scheme which we had formed in order to
test our theories" ["the 'we' is rather fine, Watson, is it
not?"] "I went down to the Albert Dock yesterday at 6 p.m., and
boarded the S.S. May Day, belonging to the Liverpool, Dublin, and
London Steam Packet Company. On inquiry, I found that there was
a steward on board of the name of James Browner and that he had
acted during the voyage in such an extraordinary manner that the
captain had been compelled to relieve him of his duties. On
descending to his berth, I found him seated upon a chest with his
head sunk upon his hands, rocking himself to and fro. He is a
big, powerful chap, clean-shaven, and very swarthy--something
like Aldrige, who helped us in the bogus laundry affair. He
jumped up when he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my
lips to call a couple of river police, who were round the corner,
but he seemed to have no heart in him, and he held out his hands
quietly enough for the darbies. We brought him along to the
cells, and his box as well, for we thought there might be
something incriminating; but, bar a big sharp knife such as most
sailors have, we got nothing for our trouble. However, we find
that we shall want no more evidence, for on being brought before
the inspector at the station he asked leave to make a statement,
which was, of course, taken down, just as he made it, by our
shorthand man. We had three copies typewritten, one of which I
enclose. The affair proves, as I always thought it would, to be
an extremely simple one, but I am obliged to you for assisting me
in my investigation. With kind regards,
"Yours very truly,
"G. Lestrade.
"Hum! The investigation really was a very simple one," remarked
Holmes, "but I don't think it struck him in that light when he
first called us in. However, let us see what Jim Browner has to
say for himself. This is his statement as made before Inspector
Montgomery at the Shadwell Police Station, and it has the
advantage of being verbatim."
"'Have I anything to say? Yes, I have a deal to say. I have to
make a clean breast of it all. You can hang me, or you can leave
me alone. I don't care a plug which you do. I tell you I've not
shut an eye in sleep since I did it, and I don't believe I ever
will again until I get past all waking. Sometimes it's his face,
but most generally it's hers. I'm never without one or the other
before me. He looks frowning and black-like, but she has a kind
o' surprise upon her face. Ay, the white lamb, she might well be
surprised when she read death on a face that had seldom looked
anything but love upon her before.
"'But it was Sarah's fault, and may the curse of a broken man put
a blight on her and set the blood rotting in her veins! It's not
that I want to clear myself. I know that I went back to drink,
like the beast that I was. But she would have forgiven me; she
would have stuck as close to me a rope to a block if that woman
had never darkened our door. For Sarah Cushing loved me--that's
the root of the business--she loved me until all her love turned
to poisonous hate when she knew that I thought more of my wife's
footmark in the mud than I did of her whole body and soul.
"'There were three sisters altogether. The old one was just a
good woman, the second was a devil, and the third was an angel.
Sarah was thirty-three, and Mary was twenty-nine when I married.
We were just as happy as the day was long when we set up house
together, and in all Liverpool there was no better woman than my
Mary. And then we asked Sarah up for a week, and the week grew
into a month, and one thing led to another, until she was just
one of ourselves.
"'I was blue ribbon at that time, and we were putting a little
money by, and all was as bright as a new dollar. My God, whoever
would have thought that it could have come to this? Whoever would
have dreamed it?
"'I used to be home for the week-ends very often, and sometimes
if the ship were held back for cargo I would have a whole week at
a time, and in this way I saw a deal of my sister-in-law, Sarah.
She was a fine tall woman, black and quick and fierce, with a
proud way of carrying her head, and a glint from her eye like a
spark from a flint. But when little Mary was there I had never a
thought of her, and that I swear as I hope for God's mercy.
"'It had seemed to me sometimes that she liked to be alone with
me, or to coax me out for a walk with her, but I had never
thought anything of that. But one evening my eyes were opened.
I had come up from the ship and found my wife out, but Sarah at
home. "Where's Mary?" I asked. "Oh, she has gone to pay some
accounts." I was impatient and paced up and down the room.
"Can't you be happy for five minutes without Mary, Jim?" says
she. "It's a bad compliment to me that you can't be contented
with my society for so short a time." "That's all right, my
lass," said I, putting out my hand towards her in a kindly way,
but she had it in both hers in an instant, and they burned as if
they were in a fever. I looked into her eyes and I read it all
there. There was no need for her to speak, nor for me either. I
frowned and drew my hand away. Then she stood by my side in
silence for a bit, and then put up her hand and patted me on the
shoulder. "Steady old Jim!" said she, and with a kind o' mocking
laugh, she ran out of the room.
"'Well, from that time Sarah hated me with her whole heart and
soul, and she is a woman who can hate, too. I was a fool to let
her go on biding with us--a besotted fool--but I never said a
word to Mary, for I knew it would grieve her. Things went on
much as before, but after a time I began to find that there was a
bit of a change in Mary herself. She had always been so trusting
and so innocent, but now she became queer and suspicious, wanting
to know where I had been and what I had been doing, and whom my
letters were from, and what I had in my pockets, and a thousand
such follies. Day by day she grew queerer and more irritable,
and we had ceaseless rows about nothing. I was fairly puzzled by
it all. Sarah avoided me now, but she and Mary were just
inseparable. I can see now how she was plotting and scheming and
poisoning my wife's mind against me, but I was such a blind
beetle that I could not understand it at the time. Then I broke
my blue ribbon and began to drink again, but I think I should not
have done it if Mary had been the same as ever. She had some
reason to be disgusted with me now, and the gap between us began
to be wider and wider. And then this Alec Fairbairn chipped in,
and things became a thousand times blacker.
"'It was to see Sarah that he came to my house first, but soon it
was to see us, for he was a man with winning ways, and he made
friends wherever he went. He was a dashing, swaggering chap,
smart and curled, who had seen half the world and could talk of
what he had seen. He was good company, I won't deny it, and he
had wonderful polite ways with him for a sailor man, so that I
think there must have been a time when he knew more of the poop
than the forecastle. For a month he was in and out of my house,
and never once did it cross my mind that harm might come of his
soft, tricky ways. And then at last something made me suspect,
and from that day my peace was gone forever.
"'It was only a little thing, too. I had come into the parlour
unexpected, and as I walked in at the door I saw a light of
welcome on my wife's face. But as she saw who it was it faded
again, and she turned away with a look of disappointment. That
was enough for me. There was no one but Alec Fairbairn whose
step she could have mistaken for mine. If I could have seen him
then I should have killed him, for I have always been like a
madman when my temper gets loose. Mary saw the devil's light in
my eyes, and she ran forward with her hands on my sleeve.
"Don't, Jim, don't!" says she. "Where's Sarah?" I asked. "In
the kitchen," says she. "Sarah," says I as I went in, "this man
Fairbairn is never to darken my door again." "Why not?" says
she. "Because I order it." "Oh!" says she, "if my friends are
not good enough for this house, then I am not good enough for it
either." "You can do what you like," says I, "but if Fairbairn
shows his face here again I'll send you one of his ears for a
keepsake." She was frightened by my face, I think, for she never
answered a word, and the same evening she left my house.
"'Well, I don't know now whether it was pure devilry on the part
of this woman, or whether she thought that she could turn me
against my wife by encouraging her to misbehave. Anyway, she
took a house just two streets off and let lodgings to sailors.
Fairbairn used to stay there, and Mary would go round to have tea
with her sister and him. How often she went I don't know, but I
followed her one day, and as I broke in at the door Fairbairn got
away over the back garden wall, like the cowardly skunk that he
was. I swore to my wife that I would kill her if I found her in
his company again, and I led her back with me, sobbing and
trembling, and as white as a piece of paper. There was no trace
of love between us any longer. I could see that she hated me and
feared me, and when the thought of it drove me to drink, then she
despised me as well.
"'Well, Sarah found that she could not make a living in
Liverpool, so she went back, as I understand, to live with her
sister in Croydon, and things jogged on much the same as ever at
home. And then came this week and all the misery and ruin.
"'It was in this way. We had gone on the May Day for a round
voyage of seven days, but a hogshead got loose and started one of
our plates, so that we had to put back into port for twelve
hours. I left the ship and came home, thinking what a surprise
it would be for my wife, and hoping that maybe she would be glad
to see me so soon. The thought was in my head as I turned into
my own street, and at that moment a cab passed me, and there she
was, sitting by the side of Fairbairn, the two chatting and
laughing, with never a thought for me as I stood watching them
from the footpath.
"'I tell you, and I give you my word for it, that from that
moment I was not my own master, and it is all like a dim dream
when I look back on it. I had been drinking hard of late, and
the two things together fairly turned my brain. There's
something throbbing in my head now, like a docker's hammer, but
that morning I seemed to have all Niagara whizzing and buzzing in
my ears.
"'Well, I took to my heels, and I ran after the cab. I had a
heavy oak stick in my hand, and I tell you I saw red from the
first; but as I ran I got cunning, too, and hung back a little to
see them without being seen. They pulled up soon at the railway
station. There was a good crowd round the booking-office, so I
got quite close to them without being seen. They took tickets
for New Brighton. So did I, but I got in three carriages behind
them. When we reached it they walked along the Parade, and I was
never more than a hundred yards from them. At last I saw them
hire a boat and start for a row, for it was a very hot day, and
they thought, no doubt, that it would be cooler on the water.
"'It was just as if they had been given into my hands. There was
a bit of a haze, and you could not see more than a few hundred
yards. I hired a boat for myself, and I pulled after them. I
could see the blur of their craft, but they were going nearly as
fast as I, and they must have been a long mile from the shore
before I caught them up. The haze was like a curtain all round
us, and there were we three in the middle of it. My God, shall I
ever forget their faces when they saw who was in the boat that
was closing in upon them? She screamed out. He swore like a
madman and jabbed at me with an oar, for he must have seen death
in my eyes. I got past it and got one in with my stick that
crushed his head like an egg. I would have spared her, perhaps,
for all my madness, but she threw her arms round him, crying out
to him, and calling him "Alec." I struck again, and she lay
stretched beside him. I was like a wild beast then that had
tasted blood. If Sarah had been there, by the Lord, she should
have joined them. I pulled out my knife, and--well, there! I've
said enough. It gave me a kind of savage joy when I thought how
Sarah would feel when she had such signs as these of what her
meddling had brought about. Then I tied the bodies into the
boat, stove a plank, and stood by until they had sunk. I knew
very well that the owner would think that they had lost their
bearings in the haze, and had drifted off out to sea. I cleaned
myself up, got back to land, and joined my ship without a soul
having a suspicion of what had passed. That night I made up the
packet for Sarah Cushing, and next day I sent it from Belfast.
"'There you have the whole truth of it. You can hang me, or do
what you like with me, but you cannot punish me as I have been
punished already. I cannot shut my eyes but I see those two
faces staring at me--staring at me as they stared when my boat
broke through the haze. I killed them quick, but they are
killing me slow; and if I have another night of it I shall be
either mad or dead before morning. You won't put me alone into a
cell, sir? For pity's sake don't, and may you be treated in your
day of agony as you treat me now.'
"What is the meaning of it, Watson?" said Holmes solemnly as he
laid down the paper. "What object is served by this circle of
misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else
our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable. But what
end? There is the great standing perennial problem to which
human reason is as far from an answer as ever."