Disappearance of a Well Known Builder. Suspicion of Murder andArson. A Clue to the Criminal.’ That is the clue which they arealready following, Mr. Holmes, and I know that it leads infalliblyto me. I have been followed from London Bridge Station, and Iam sure that they are only waiting for the warrant to arrest me. Itwill break my mother’s heart—it will break her heart!” He wrunghis hands in an agony of apprehension, and swayed backward andforward in his chair.
I looked with interest upon this man, who was accused of beingthe perpetrator of a crime of violence. He was flaxen-haired andhandsome, in a washed-out negative fashion, with frightened blueeyes, and a clean-shaven face, with a weak, sensitive mouth. Hisage may have been about twenty-seven, his dress and bearing thatof a gentleman. From the pocket of his light summer overcoatprotruded the bundle of indorsed papers which proclaimed hisprofession.
“We must use what time we have,” said Holmes. “Watson, wouldyou have the kindness to take the paper and to read the paragraphin question?”
Underneath the vigorous headlines which our client had quoted,I read the following suggestive narrative:
“Late last night, or early this morning, an incident occurred atLower Norwood which points, it is feared, to a serious crime. Mr.
Jonas Oldacre is a well known resident of that suburb, where he hascarried on his business as a builder for many years. Mr. Oldacre isa bachelor, fifty-two years of age, and lives in Deep Dene House,at the Sydenham end of the road of that name. He has had thereputation of being a man of eccentric habits, secretive and retiring.
For some years he has practically withdrawn from the business,in which he is said to have massed considerable wealth. A smalltimber-yard still exists, however, at the back of the house, and lastnight, about twelve o’clock, an alarm was given that one of thestacks was on fire. The engines were soon upon the spot, but thedry wood burned with great fury, and it was impossible to arrest theconflagration until the stack had been entirely consumed. Up tothis point the incident bore the appearance of an ordinary accident,but fresh indications seem to point to serious crime. Surprise wasexpressed at the absence of the master of the establishment fromthe scene of the fire, and an inquiry followed, which showed thathe had disappeared from the house. An examination of his roomrevealed that the bed had not been slept in, that a safe which stoodin it was open, that a number of important papers were scatteredabout the room, and finally, that there were signs of a murderousstruggle, slight traces of blood being found within the room, andan oaken walking-stick, which also showed stains of blood uponthe handle. It is known that Mr. Jonas Oldacre had received alate visitor in his bedroom upon that night, and the stick foundhas been identified as the property of this person, who is a youngLondon solicitor named John Hector McFarlane, junior partner ofGraham and McFarlane, of 426 Gresham Buildings, E. C. The policebelieve that they have evidence in their possession which suppliesa very convincing motive for the crime, and altogether it cannot bedoubted that sensational developments will follow.
“LATER.—It is rumoured as we go to press that Mr. John HectorMcFarlane has actually been arrested on the charge of the murderof Mr. Jonas Oldacre. It is at least certain that a warrant has beenissued. There have been further and sinister developments in theinvestigation at Norwood. Besides the signs of a struggle in theroom of the unfortunate builder it is now known that the Frenchwindows of his bedroom (which is on the ground floor) were foundto be open, that there were marks as if some bulky object hadbeen dragged across to the wood-pile, and, finally, it is assertedthat charred remains have been found among the charcoal ashesof the fire. The police theory is that a most sensational crime hasbeen committed, that the victim was clubbed to death in his ownbedroom, his papers rifled, and his dead body dragged across to thewood-stack, which was then ignited so as to hide all traces of thecrime. The conduct of the criminal investigation has been left inthe experienced hands of Inspector Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, whois following up the clues with his accustomed energy and sagacity.”
Sherlock Holmes listened with closed eyes and fingertipstogether to this remarkable account.
“The case has certainly some points of interest,” said he, in hislanguid fashion. “May I ask, in the first place, Mr. McFarlane, howit is that you are still at liberty, since there appears to be enoughevidence to justify your arrest?”
“I live at Torrington Lodge, Blackheath, with my parents, Mr.
Holmes, but last night, having to do business very late with Mr.
Jonas Oldacre, I stayed at an hotel in Norwood, and came to mybusiness from there. I knew nothing of this affair until I was inthe train, when I read what you have just heard. I at once saw thehorrible danger of my position, and I hurried to put the case intoyour hands. I have no doubt that I should have been arrested eitherat my city office or at my home. A man followed me from LondonBridge Station, and I have no doubt—Great heaven! what is that?”
It was a clang of the bell, followed instantly by heavy steps uponthe stair. A moment later, our old friend Lestrade appeared inthe doorway. Over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of one or twouniformed policemen outside.
“Mr. John Hector McFarlane?” said Lestrade.
Our unfortunate client rose with a ghastly face.
“I arrest you for the wilful murder of Mr. Jonas Oldacre, ofLower Norwood.”
McFarlane turned to us with a gesture of despair, and sank intohis chair once more like one who is crushed.
“One moment, Lestrade,” said Holmes. “Half an hour more orless can make no difference to you, and the gentleman was aboutto give us an account of this very interesting affair, which mightaid us in clearing it up.”
