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Page 10
"Three of them are receipted hay-dealers' accounts.
One of them is a letter of instructions from Colonel
Ross. This other is a milliner's account for
thirty-seven pounds fifteen made out by Madame
Lesurier, of Bond Street, to William Derbyshire. Mrs.
Straker tells us that Derbyshire was a friend of her
husband's and that occasionally his letters were
addressed here."
"Madam Derbyshire had somewhat expensive tastes,"
remarked Holmes, glancing down the account.
"Twenty-two guineas is rather heavy for a single
costume. However there appears to be nothing more to
learn, and we may now go down to the scene of the
crime."
As we emerged from the sitting-room a woman, who had
been waiting in the passage, took a step forward and
laid her hand upon the Inspector's sleeve. Her face
was haggard and thin and eager, stamped with the print
of a recent horror.
"Have you got them? Have you found them?" she panted.
"No, Mrs. Straker. But Mr. Holmes here has come from
London to help us, and we shall do all that is
possible."
"Surely I met you in Plymouth at a garden-party some
little time ago, Mrs. Straker?" said Holmes.
"No, sir; you are mistaken."
"Dear me! Why, I could have sworn to it. You wore a
costume of dove-colored silk with ostrich-feather
trimming."
"I never had such a dress, sir," answered the lady.
"Ah, that quite settles it," said Holmes. And with an
apology he followed the Inspector outside. A short
walk across the moor took us to the hollow in which
the body had been found. At the brink of it was the
furze-bush upon which the coat had been hung.
"There was no wind that night, I understand," said
Holmes.
"None; but very heavy rain."
"In that case the overcoat was not blown against the
furze-bush, but placed there."
"Yes, it was laid across the bush."
"You fill me with interest, I perceive that the
ground has been trampled up a good deal. No doubt
many feet have been here since Monday night."
"A piece of matting has been laid here at the side,
and we have all stood upon that."
"Excellent."
"In this bag I have one of the boots which Straker
wore, one of Fitzroy Simpson's shoes, and a cast
horseshoe of Silver Blaze."
"My dear Inspector, you surpass yourself!" Holmes took
the bag, and, descending into the hollow, he pushed
the matting into a more central position. Then
stretching himself upon his face and leaning his chin
upon his hands, he made a careful study of the
trampled mud in front of him. "Hullo!" said he,
suddenly. "What's this?" It was a wax vesta half
burned, which was so coated with mud that it looked at
first like a little chip of wood.
"I cannot think how I came to overlook it," said the
Inspector, with an expression of annoyance.
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