2 The Torn Paper

Chapter 2 The Torn Paper Sherlock Holmes pondered what Forrester had said. "Did the robber break into the house before Keegan got there?" he asked. Forrester shook his head. "We think he only managed to break open the door when the coachman arrived." "Did Keegan say anything to his mother before going out?" "She's very old and deaf. We can't get any information from her. But we did find something of significance." The inspector took a small piece of torn paper from his notebook and placed it on the table.

at quarter to twelve. Learn what? Maybe "This was found clasped between Keegan's finger and thumb," he said. "It appears to have been torn from a larger sheet of paper. You'll notice that the time mentioned on it is the time poor Keegan was killed. The murderer might have ripped the rest of the sheet from his grasp, or Keegan might have wrenched this fragment from the murderer."

Holmes picked up the scrap of paper and studied it. "It looks to me," continued the inspector, "like an arrangement for a meeting. William Keegan is generally regarded around here as an honest man, but it's possible he was in league with the thief." "What makes you think so?" I asked. "Keegan may have met the thief there, may even have helped him force open the door, and then they got into an argument." "The writing on this piece of paper is of huge significance," said Holmes, who had been examining it with intense concentration. "This

puzzle is far more intriguing than I'd previously thought." Inspector Forrester smiled to see how his little case had so captured the attention of the famous London detective. "Your theory," said Holmes, "that there was an understanding between the burglar and the coachman is certainly a possibility, but this writing..." His voice trailed off, and his head sank into his hands as he lapsed into profound thought. When he raised his face again, I saw his cheeks were flushed and his eyes as bright as they had been before his illness. He sprang to his feet with all his old energy.

"There's something about this case that fascinates me deeply," he said. "If you don't mind, Colonel Hayter, I'd like to leave you in the company of Dr. Watson while I head off with the inspector and test one or two ideas of mine. I'll return in half an hour." An hour and a half later, the inspector returned alone. "Mr. Holmes is walking up and down in the field outside your house, Colonel," he reported. "He wants all of us to go up to the Cunningham place together." "What for?" asked Hayter.

Forrester shrugged. "I don't know, sir. Between ourselves, I'm not sure Mr. Holmes has quite got over his illness yet. He's been behaving rather oddly, and he's a bit overexcited." "I wouldn't worry too much, Inspector," I said. "Holmes's manner can appear unusual to those who don't know him, but I've generally found there's method in his madness." "Some might say there's madness in his method," muttered Forrester. "However, he's extremely keen to get started, so if you're ready we'd best go and join him." We found Holmes pacing up and down in the field, his chin sunk onto his chest, his hands thrust in his trouser pockets.