The Adventure of the Dying Detective
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Sir Arthur Conan Doyle >> The Adventure of the Dying Detective
"Painful, is it? Yes, the coolies used to do some squealing
towards the end. Takes you as cramp, I fancy."
"Yes, yes; it is cramp."
"Well, you can hear what I say, anyhow. Listen now! Can you
remember any unusual incident in your life just about the time
your symptoms began?"
"No, no; nothing."
"Think again."
"I'm too ill to think."
"Well, then, I'll help you. Did anything come by post?"
"By post?"
"A box by chance?"
"I'm fainting--I'm gone!"
"Listen, Holmes!" There was a sound as if he was shaking the
dying man, and it was all that I could do to hold myself quiet in
my hiding-place. "You must hear me. You SHALL hear me. Do you
remember a box--an ivory box? It came on Wednesday. You opened
it--do you remember?"
"Yes, yes, I opened it. There was a sharp spring inside it.
Some joke--"
"It was no joke, as you will find to your cost. You fool, you
would have it and you have got it. Who asked you to cross my
path? If you had left me alone I would not have hurt you."
"I remember," Holmes gasped. "The spring! It drew blood. This
box--this on the table."
"The very one, by George! And it may as well leave the room in
my pocket. There goes your last shred of evidence. But you have
the truth now, Holmes, and you can die with the knowledge that I
killed you. You knew too much of the fate of Victor Savage, so I
have sent you to share it. You are very near your end, Holmes.
I will sit here and I will watch you die."
Holmes's voice had sunk to an almost inaudible whisper.
"What is that?" said Smith. "Turn up the gas? Ah, the shadows
begin to fall, do they? Yes, I will turn it up, that I may see
you the better." He crossed the room and the light suddenly
brightened. "Is there any other little service that I can do
you, my friend?"
"A match and a cigarette."
I nearly called out in my joy and my amazement. He was speaking
in his natural voice--a little weak, perhaps, but the very voice
I knew. There was a long pause, and I felt that Culverton Smith
was standing in silent amazement looking down at his companion.
"What's the meaning of this?" I heard him say at last in a dry,
rasping tone.
"The best way of successfully acting a part is to be it," said
Holmes. "I give you my word that for three days I have tasted
neither food nor drink until you were good enough to pour me out
that glass of water. But it is the tobacco which I find most
irksome. Ah, here ARE some cigarettes." I heard the striking of
a match. "That is very much better. Halloa! halloa! Do I hear
the step of a friend?"
There were footfalls outside, the door opened, and Inspector
Morton appeared.
"All is in order and this is your man," said Holmes.
The officer gave the usual cautions.
"I arrest you on the charge of the murder of one Victor Savage,"
he concluded.
"And you might add of the attempted murder of one Sherlock
Holmes," remarked my friend with a chuckle. "To save an invalid
trouble, Inspector, Mr. Culverton Smith was good enough to give
our signal by turning up the gas. By the way, the prisoner has a
small box in the right-hand pocket of his coat which it would be
as well to remove. Thank you. I would handle it gingerly if I
were you. Put it down here. It may play its part in the trial."
There was a sudden rush and a scuffle, followed by the clash of
iron and a cry of pain.
"You'll only get yourself hurt," said the inspector. "Stand
still, will you?" There was the click of the closing handcuffs.
"A nice trap!" cried the high, snarling voice. "It will bring
YOU into the dock, Holmes, not me. He asked me to come here to
cure him. I was sorry for him and I came. Now he will pretend,
no doubt, that I have said anything which he may invent which
will corroborate his insane suspicions. You can lie as you like,
Holmes. My word is always as good as yours."
"Good heavens!" cried Holmes. "I had totally forgotten him. My
dear Watson, I owe you a thousand apologies. To think that I
should have overlooked you! I need not introduce you to Mr.
Culverton Smith, since I understand that you met somewhat earlier
in the evening. Have you the cab below? I will follow you when I
am dressed, for I may be of some use at the station.
"I never needed it more," said Holmes as he refreshed himself
with a glass of claret and some biscuits in the intervals of his
toilet. "However, as you know, my habits are irregular, and such
a feat means less to me than to most men. It was very essential
that I should impress Mrs. Hudson with the reality of my
condition, since she was to convey it to you, and you in turn to
him. You won't be offended, Watson? You will realize that among
your many talents dissimulation finds no place, and that if you
had shared my secret you would never have been able to impress
Smith with the urgent necessity of his presence, which was the
vital point of the whole scheme. Knowing his vindictive nature,
I was perfectly certain that he would come to look upon his
handiwork."
"But your appearance, Holmes--your ghastly face?"
"Three days of absolute fast does not improve one's beauty,
Watson. For the rest, there is nothing which a sponge may not
cure. With vaseline upon one's forehead, belladonna in one's
eyes, rouge over the cheek-bones, and crusts of beeswax round
one's lips, a very satisfying effect can be produced.
Malingering is a subject upon which I have sometimes thought of
writing a monograph. A little occasional talk about half-crowns,
oysters, or any other extraneous subject produces a pleasing
effect of delirium."
"But why would you not let me near you, since there was in truth
no infection?"
"Can you ask, my dear Watson? Do you imagine that I have no
respect for your medical talents? Could I fancy that your astute
judgment would pass a dying man who, however weak, had no rise of
pulse or temperature? At four yards, I could deceive you. If I
failed to do so, who would bring my Smith within my grasp? No,
Watson, I would not touch that box. You can just see if you look
at it sideways where the sharp spring like a viper's tooth
emerges as you open it. I dare say it was by some such device
that poor Savage, who stood between this monster and a reversion,
was done to death. My correspondence, however, is, as you know,
a varied one, and I am somewhat upon my guard against any
packages which reach me. It was clear to me, however, that by
pretending that he had really succeeded in his design I might
surprise a confession. That pretence I have carried out with the
thoroughness of the true artist. Thank you, Watson, you must
help me on with my coat. When we have finished at the police-
station I think that something nutritious at Simpson's would not
be out of place."