Once in London on Christmas Eve at the hotel has committed a larceny. Countess of Morcar has been stolen a precious diamond which was called Blue Carbuncle. It was one of the most expensive gems in the world. Suspicions has fallen on John Horner he has been working at the hotel as a plumber. He was imprisoned for robbery because previously he had served out in prison for the same crime. Plumber to denied a charge but nobody believed him. At the same time on one of the streets of London ruffians attacked the man. Nearly of that place was walking a commissionaire Peterson and like an honest person he had decided help that man and to defended against of them. The attacked man had run away and dropped the goose which he carried with him. Peterson took the goose home to eat the bird and his wife had pulled out of it a diamond. This diamond the honest man Peterson had brought to Holmes.Download Ebook Download AudioBook
The Adventure of the Blue Carbuncle by Conan Doyle
I visited my friend Sherlock Holmes on the second morning of Christmas. When I arrived he was sitting in front of the fire, wearing his purple dressing-gown. Next to the sofa was a wooden chair, and on the chair was a dirty old hat. A magnifying glass and a forceps were on the chair, so the hat was probably part of one of Holmes’ investigations.
‘You are busy,’ I said. ‘Perhaps I interrupt you.’
‘Not at all,’ he replied, and indicated the hat. ‘The problem is very simple, but it is still interesting and maybe even instructive.’
I sat down in an armchair and warmed my hands in front of the fire because it was very cold outside.
‘I imagine,’ I said, ‘that this hat is connected with a terrible crime.’
‘No, no. No crime,’ said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. ‘It is only one of those strange things that happens when four million human beings live within the small area of a city. With so many people, every imaginable combination of events is possible, and sometimes you can find a problem that is striking and strange but not criminal.
‘Do you know Peterson, the commissionaire?’
‘This trophy’ belongs to him.’
‘It is his hat?’
‘No, no. He found it. Its owner is unknown. Look at it carefully, and not as a dirty old hat, but as an intellectual problem. It arrived here on Christmas morning together with a good fat goose. That goose is probably cooking at Peterson’s house at this very moment.
‘These are the facts. About four o’clock on Christmas morning Peterson was returning from a party along Tottenham Court Road. In front of him he saw a tall man carrying a white goose. Then he saw some men attack the tall man. One of the attackers knocked his hat off, so the man lifted his walking stick to defence himself. But when he lifted the stick he broke a shop window by mistake. Peterson ran to help the man, but when the man saw Peterson with his commissionaire uniform, he thought he was a policeman, and he ran away and so did the attackers. Peterson was there all alone with the hat and the goose.’
‘Of course, Peterson then returned the goose to its owner,’ I said…