4 The Mysterious Pills

Chapter 4 The Mysterious Pills "Are you—are you sure about this?" stammered Gregson. "It was I who discovered the body," said Lestrade. "I suspected Stangerson was involved in the death of Drebber and wanted to know where he was between 8:30, when he was spotted at Euston Station, and the time of the crime. I was searching hotels around Euston when I discovered he'd checked into Halliday's. They said he'd been waiting for a gentleman in his room for two days. We broke down the door to find him dead with a deep stab wound in his chest. Above his body..." "The word RACHE had been written in blood," said Holmes. "Exactly," said Lestrade in an awestruck voice. "A passing milk boy said he saw a man escaping from Stangerson's second-floor room on a ladder. He described him as tall, with a reddish face, and dressed in a long brown coat."

"And that was when the truth came out. Drebber, it seems, was a coarse and brutish fellow. The reason he and his secretary left the house that morning was because Madame Charpentier had thrown them out after Drebber kissed and embraced Alice against her will. "Later that day, Drebber returned, clearly drunk, and urged Alice to elope with him. She tried to get away, but he caught her wrist and began dragging her out. She screamed, and then her brother Arthur arrived. There was a scuffle, and Drebber bolted from the house. Arthur said, 'I don't think that fellow will trouble us again.' Then he started off after him down the street, swinging a heavy walking stick and saying, 'I'll just go and see what he does with himself.'"

"Did you find any clues in the room?" asked Holmes. "Nothing of importance," said Lestrade. "A novel he'd been reading, a glass of water on the table, and a small box containing a couple of pills." Holmes sprang up from his chair with an exclamation of delight. "The last link!" he cried excitedly. "My case is complete." The two detectives stared at him in confusion. "Could you lay your hands on these pills?" asked Holmes. "I have them right here," said Lestrade, producing a small white box.

Holmes turned to me. "Watson, would you mind going down and fetching Mrs. Hudson's poor sickly terrier? I remember her asking you to put it out of its misery yesterday." I went downstairs and returned with the dog in my arms. From the sound of its breathing and its glazed eyes, it was clearly close to death. Holmes dissolved one of the pills in some water and milk. The dog lapped it up and then lay down, showing no ill effect. This puzzled Holmes. He frowned, thinking for a moment, and then clicked his fingers. "I have it!" He took the other pill and dissolved it in more water and milk. This time, when the poor creature tasted the mixture, it gave a convulsive shiver and died. At first I was shocked—but the animal had been in pain, and its death was a mercy.

Holmes nodded gravely. "Now I understand. Of the two pills in the box, one was deadly poison, while the other was harmless. I should have known that all along." All this mystery had become too much for Gregson. "Look here, Mr. Holmes, we deserve some answers. It seems I was wrong about Charpentier, and Lestrade was wrong to suspect Stangerson, so tell us who killed Enoch Drebber." "I could name the murderer," said Holmes, "but catching him is more important, and I hope to do that shortly— though it will require delicate handling. If he has the slightest suspicion we're after him, he'll disappear."

As Holmes spoke, there came a tap at the door, and Wiggins, leader of the Baker Street Irregulars, entered. "Please sir," he said, "I have the cab downstairs." "Good lad," said Holmes, taking a pair of handcuffs from a drawer. "Ask the cabman to come up and help me with my luggage, would you?" I was surprised to see Holmes pull out a large suitcase. He hadn't told me he was going on a journey. The cabman entered. "Ah, can you give me a hand with this buckle, cabman," said Holmes. The fellow stepped forward. As he laid his hands on the suitcase, there was a sharp click, and the handcuffs closed on his wrists. "Gentlemen," cried Holmes, "may I introduce you to Mr. Jefferson Hope, murderer of Enoch Drebber and Joseph Stangerson."