Holmes had been informed about next murder in Herefordshire and went to Boscombe Valley in that community. Mr. Charles McCarthy had been killed by his own son. At least son was the prime suspect because all evidences were leading to him. But James was denying a charge. He told that accidentally met his father in the wood that day and they quarreled. The quarrel was because of son’s fiancée. Mr. Charles chased away his son. When James had gone out not far from that place he heard a scream and ran back. McCarthy had been killed and his last word was “a rat”. Nearby of Mr. Charles’s body was laying a cloak, but that thing had disappeared later and James noted it.Download Ebook
The Boscombe Valley Mystery by Conan Doyle
One morning, I was having breakfast with my wife when a telegram arrived. It was from Sherlock Holmes. It read:
Are you free for a day or two? Must go to the west of England to help with the Boscombe Pool murder. Shall be glad if you can come with me. The change will be good for us. Leaving Paddington station on the 11.15 train.
‘Will you go?’ said my wife, looking across at me.
‘I really don’t know what to say,’ I answered. ‘I have a lot of sick people to visit.’
‘Anstruther can do your work for you. You are looking tired and I think a change from your work will be good for you. You are always so interested in Mr Holmes’s cases.’
‘As always, you are right, my dear. But if I do go, I must get ready immediately, because the train leaves in half an hour.’
My early life as a soldier taught me to travel with very few things. In a few minutes, I was on my way to Paddington station. There I found my old friend in his long grey coat and his favourite hat. He was walking up and down the platform.
‘It is really very good of you to come, Watson,’ he said. ‘I need a friend like you at times like this. No one can help me as you can. Please keep two corner places and I shall buy the tickets.’
We were alone during the train journey. Holmes had a large number of newspapers with him and for much of the time he wrote and thought. Finally, he made the papers into a very large ball and threw them away, keeping only one.
‘Have you heard anything about this case?’ he asked.
‘No, nothing. I have not seen a newspaper for some days.’
“The London papers have not written much about it. I have read them all because I need to know all the facts. It seems to be one of those cases which looks very clear. That is why I think it will be difficult.’
‘Isn’t that strange?’
‘Oh no. Cases which seem very easy like this one are often the hardest, I find. But just now, things look very serious for the son of the murdered man.’
‘So you are sure that it is a murder?’
‘Not yet. It seems to be. But I must believe nothing until I have studied all the facts. Now I shall explain in a few words what I have read…