She must
have heard of the business the day before, since all Croydon was
ringing with it, and she alone could have understood for whom the
packet was meant. If she had been willing to help justice she would
probably have communicated with the police already. However, it was
clearly our duty to see her, so we went. We found that the news of the
arrival of the packet—for her illness dated from that time—had such
an effect upon her as to bring on brain fever. It was clearer than
ever that she understood its full significance, but equally clear that
we should have to wait some time for any assistance from her.
"However, we were really independent of her help. Our answers were
waiting for us at the police-station, where I had directed Algar to
send them. Nothing could be more conclusive. Mrs. Browner's house had
been closed for more than three days, and the neighbours were of
opinion that she had gone south to see her relatives. It had been
ascertained at the shipping offices that Browner had left aboard of the
May Day, and I calculate that she is due in the Thames tomorrow night.
When he arrives he will be met by the obtuse but resolute Lestrade, and
I have no doubt that we shall have all our details filled in."
Sherlock Holmes was not disappointed in his expectations. Two days
later he received a bulky envelope, which contained a short note from
the detective, and a typewritten document, which covered several pages
of foolscap.
"Lestrade has got him all right," said Holmes, glancing up at me.
"Perhaps it would interest you to hear what he says.
"My dear Mr. Holmes:
In accordance with the scheme which we had formed in order to test our
theories" ("the 'we' is rather fine, Watson, is it not?") "I went down
to the Albert Dock yesterday at 6 p.m., and boarded the S.S. May Day,
belonging to the Liverpool, Dublin, and London Steam Packet Company.
On inquiry, I found that there was a steward on board of the name of
James Browner and that he had acted during the voyage in such an
extraordinary manner that the captain had been compelled to relieve him
of his duties. On descending to his berth, I found him seated upon a
chest with his head sunk upon his hands, rocking himself to and fro.
He is a big, powerful chap, clean-shaven, and very swarthy—something
like Aldrige, who helped us in the bogus laundry affair. He jumped up
when he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my lips to call a
couple of river police, who were round the corner, but he seemed to
have no heart in him, and he held out his hands quietly enough for the
darbies. We brought him along to the cells, and his box as well, for
we thought there might be something incriminating; but, bar a big sharp
knife such as most sailors have, we got nothing for our trouble.
However, we find that we shall want no more evidence, for on being
brought before the inspector at the station he asked leave to make a
statement, which was, of course, taken down, just as he made it, by our
shorthand man. We had three copies typewritten, one of which I
enclose. The affair proves, as I always thought it would, to be an
extremely simple one, but I am obliged to you for assisting me in my
investigation. With kind regards,
"Yours very truly,
"G. Lestrade.
"Hum! The investigation really was a very simple one," remarked
Holmes, "but I don't think it struck him in that light when he first
called us in. However, let us see what Jim Browner has to say for
himself. This is his statement as made before Inspector Montgomery at
the Shadwell Police Station, and it has the advantage of being
verbatim."
"'Have I anything to say? Yes, I have a deal to say. I have to make a
clean breast of it all. You can hang me, or you can leave me alone. I
don't care a plug which you do. I tell you I've not shut an eye in
sleep since I did it, and I don't believe I ever will again until I get
past all waking. Sometimes it's his face, but most generally it's
hers. I'm never without one or the other before me. He looks frowning
and black-like, but she has a kind o' surprise upon her face. Ay, the
white lamb, she might well be surprised when she read death on a face
that had seldom looked anything but love upon her before.
"'But it was Sarah's fault, and may the curse of a broken man put a
blight on her and set the blood rotting in her veins! It's not that I
want to clear myself.
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