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- Артур Конан Дойл
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- Возвращение Шерлока Холмса
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- Стр. 276/291
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Eduardo
Lucas
,
who
met
his
death
by
violence
last
Monday
night
at
Godolphin
Street
,
Westminster
.
Our
readers
will
remember
that
the
deceased
gentleman
was
found
stabbed
in
his
room
,
and
that
some
suspicion
attached
to
his
valet
,
but
that
the
case
broke
down
on
an
alibi
.
Yesterday
a
lady
,
who
has
been
known
as
Mme
.
Henri
Fournaye
,
occupying
a
small
villa
in
the
Rue
Austerlitz
,
was
reported
to
the
authorities
by
her
servants
as
being
insane
.
An
examination
showed
she
had
indeed
developed
mania
of
a
dangerous
and
permanent
form
.
On
inquiry
,
the
police
have
discovered
that
Mme
.
Henri
Fournaye
only
returned
from
a
journey
to
London
on
Tuesday
last
,
and
there
is
evidence
to
connect
her
with
the
crime
at
Westminster
.
A
comparison
of
photographs
has
proved
conclusively
that
M
.
Henri
Fournaye
and
Eduardo
Lucas
were
really
one
and
the
same
person
,
and
that
the
deceased
had
for
some
reason
lived
a
double
life
in
London
and
Paris
.
Mme
.
Fournaye
,
who
is
of
Creole
origin
,
is
of
an
extremely
excitable
nature
,
and
has
suffered
in
the
past
from
attacks
of
jealousy
which
have
amounted
to
frenzy
.
It
is
conjectured
that
it
was
in
one
of
these
that
she
committed
the
terrible
crime
which
has
caused
such
a
sensation
in
London
.
Her
movements
upon
the
Monday
night
have
not
yet
been
traced
,
but
it
is
undoubted
that
a
woman
answering
to
her
description
attracted
much
attention
at
Charing
Cross
Station
on
Tuesday
morning
by
the
wildness
of
her
appearance
and
the
violence
of
her
gestures
.
It
is
probable
,
therefore
,
that
the
crime
was
either
committed
when
insane
,
or
that
its
immediate
effect
was
to
drive
the
unhappy
woman
out
of
her
mind
.
At
present
she
is
unable
to
give
any
coherent
account
of
the
past
,
and
the
doctors
hold
out
no
hopes
of
the
reestablishment
of
her
reason
.
There
is
evidence
that
a
woman
,
who
might
have
been
Mme
.
Fournaye
,
was
seen
for
some
hours
upon
Monday
night
watching
the
house
in
Godolphin
Street
.
“
What
do
you
think
of
that
,
Holmes
?
”
I
had
read
the
account
aloud
to
him
,
while
he
finished
his
breakfast
.
“
My
dear
Watson
,
”
said
he
,
as
he
rose
from
the
table
and
paced
up
and
down
the
room
,
“
You
are
most
long
-
suffering
,
but
if
I
have
told
you
nothing
in
the
last
three
days
,
it
is
because
there
is
nothing
to
tell
.
Even
now
this
report
from
Paris
does
not
help
us
much
.
”
“
Surely
it
is
final
as
regards
the
man
’
s
death
.
”
“
The
man
’
s
death
is
a
mere
incident
—
a
trivial
episode
—
in
comparison
with
our
real
task
,
which
is
to
trace
this
document
and
save
a
European
catastrophe
.
Only
one
important
thing
has
happened
in
the
last
three
days
,
and
that
is
that
nothing
has
happened
.
I
get
reports
almost
hourly
from
the
government
,
and
it
is
certain
that
nowhere
in
Europe
is
there
any
sign
of
trouble
.
Now
,
if
this
letter
were
loose
—
no
,
it
can
’
t
be
loose
—
but
if
it
isn
’
t
loose
,
where
can
it
be
?
Who
has
it
?
Why
is
it
held
back
?
That
’
s
the
question
that
beats
in
my
brain
like
a
hammer
.
Was
it
,
indeed
,
a
coincidence
that
Lucas
should
meet
his
death
on
the
night
when
the
letter
disappeared
?
Did
the
letter
ever
reach
him
?
If
so
,
why
is
it
not
among
his
papers
?
Did
this
mad
wife
of
his
carry
it
off
with
her
?
If
so
,
is
it
in
her
house
in
Paris
?
How
could
I
search
for
it
without
the
French
police
having
their
suspicions
aroused
?
It
is
a
case
,
my
dear
Watson
,
where
the
law
is
as
dangerous
to
us
as
the
criminals
are
.
Every
man
’
s
hand
is
against
us
,
and
yet
the
interests
at
stake
are
colossal
.
Should
I
bring
it
to
a
successful
conclusion
,
it
will
certainly
represent
the
crowning
glory
of
my
career
.
Ah
,
here
is
my
latest
from
the
front
!
”
He
glanced
hurriedly
at
the
note
which
had
been
handed
in
.
“
Halloa
!
Lestrade
seems
to
have
observed
something
of
interest
.
Put
on
your
hat
,
Watson
,
and
we
will
stroll
down
together
to
Westminster
.
”
It
was
my
first
visit
to
the
scene
of
the
crime
—
a
high
,
dingy
,
narrow
-
chested
house
,
prim
,
formal
,
and
solid
,
like
the
century
which
gave
it
birth
.
Lestrade
’
s
bulldog
features
gazed
out
at
us
from
the
front
window
,
and
he
greeted
us
warmly
when
a
big
constable
had
opened
the
door
and
let
us
in
.
The
room
into
which
we
were
shown
was
that
in
which
the
crime
had
been
committed
,
but
no
trace
of
it
now
remained
save
an
ugly
,
irregular
stain
upon
the
carpet
.
This
carpet
was
a
small
square
drugget
in
the
centre
of
the
room
,
surrounded
by
a
broad
expanse
of
beautiful
,
old
-
fashioned
wood
-
flooring
in
square
blocks
,
highly
polished
.
Over
the
fireplace
was
a
magnificent
trophy
of
weapons
,
one
of
which
had
been
used
on
that
tragic
night
.
In
the
window
was
a
sumptuous
writing
-
desk
,
and
every
detail
of
the
apartment
,
the
pictures
,
the
rugs
,
and
the
hangings
,
all
pointed
to
a
taste
which
was
luxurious
to
the
verge
of
effeminacy
.
“
Seen
the
Paris
news
?
”
asked
Lestrade
.
