workers forced from the wholesome country into the city-bred flotsam of humanity that had always blighted Mother London, including the homeless women who had no trade to ply but themselves.
“Why, Holmes,” I had jibed him as we began our proposed jaunt across the street, “I knew you were a Bohemian, but I did not know you are a socialist.”
“I am no ‘ist’ nor ‘ian,’ Watson. Merely an observer by inclination and trade. I take no political position except to note how these upheavals in nations may effect the commission of crime.”
“Many believe a foreigner is Jack the Ripper, that no Englishman would slaughter women so fiendishly.”
“And so they believed of Frenchmen in Paris,” he murmured.
“Paris? Is that where you were? You say that they suspect the Ripper of having relocated to Paris?”
“Series of brutal murders occur everywhere, Watson. They are seldom recorded in sufficient detail and tallied in any sensible way that shows whether one man or a dozen may have done the deeds. It is always assumed that the lunatic’s violence is so severe and mystifying that the deed stands alone…until the next lunatic attack occurs. There is never an attempt to follow or show a pattern.”
“And did the Ripper show a pattern in Paris?”
“Several,” Holmes said tightly.
Using the rabbi’s name after knocking on the door, Holmes was shortly able to persuade a rather surly bearded fellow to speak to us, although we were obviously not ‘working men’ of any stripe.
“I’m searching for a man,” Holmes began.
“We are all men here,” was the short answer, accented but understandable.
“This man would have been a visitor, like ourselves.”
“Then he would be an exception.”
“That is what I hope,” Holmes went on. “I hope he was exceptional enough for you to remember him. You come from the Ukraine, I perceive. I see the journey has cost a great deal, including the loss of your sister, no, brother, pardon me. No doubt it has been hard to obtain work as an ostler in a city in which so many Irish are naturally suited for the job and also as hungry for work. 1 cannot blame you for seeking betterment through uniting with other men in your situation. Certainly the English lessons you study here are a great help, for your mastery of such a difficult language is commendable, and at least your mother will soon arrive.”
“What are you? Some Gypsy fortune-teller?”
“Alas, no. I could certainly use prescience in my profession but must rely on evidence instead. I am a consulting detective.”
The man’s shrewd eyes darkened with speculation. “And how did you discover about me?”
Holmes smiled slightly at the awkward construction that betrayed the fellow’s serviceable yet imperfect command of English. “I am a student like yourself, only I deconstruct the articles of appearance instead of those of sentences. An instant’s glance allowed me to notice the resemblance between your face and that of the tiny photographic likeness you wear on your watch fob. The fob was swinging during that instant or I would have never done your brother the disservice of taking him for your sister, however briefly. As for your origin, I am also a student of accented English. By the secure lodging of your tongue in your lower jaw, yours certainly springs from east of the Volga. Beyond that is the handkerchief that peeks out of your left inner breast pocket. The embroidery is of Russian style. I admit I hesitated for a moment there. Such handiwork is usually done by young women preparing for hope chests, or quite old women occupying time as best they may. However, your watch fob already paid tribute to your late brother and the handkerchief lay near your heart. I detected a mother, one whose arrival you expect soon in view of the loss of your brother. As for your history in working with horses, such men acquire calluses on certain areas of their fingers—on the second joints between the first and
“Why, Holmes,” I had jibed him as we began our proposed jaunt across the street, “I knew you were a Bohemian, but I did not know you are a socialist.”
“I am no ‘ist’ nor ‘ian,’ Watson. Merely an observer by inclination and trade. I take no political position except to note how these upheavals in nations may effect the commission of crime.”
“Many believe a foreigner is Jack the Ripper, that no Englishman would slaughter women so fiendishly.”
“And so they believed of Frenchmen in Paris,” he murmured.
“Paris? Is that where you were? You say that they suspect the Ripper of having relocated to Paris?”
“Series of brutal murders occur everywhere, Watson. They are seldom recorded in sufficient detail and tallied in any sensible way that shows whether one man or a dozen may have done the deeds. It is always assumed that the lunatic’s violence is so severe and mystifying that the deed stands alone…until the next lunatic attack occurs. There is never an attempt to follow or show a pattern.”
“And did the Ripper show a pattern in Paris?”
“Several,” Holmes said tightly.
Using the rabbi’s name after knocking on the door, Holmes was shortly able to persuade a rather surly bearded fellow to speak to us, although we were obviously not ‘working men’ of any stripe.
“I’m searching for a man,” Holmes began.
“We are all men here,” was the short answer, accented but understandable.
“This man would have been a visitor, like ourselves.”
“Then he would be an exception.”
“That is what I hope,” Holmes went on. “I hope he was exceptional enough for you to remember him. You come from the Ukraine, I perceive. I see the journey has cost a great deal, including the loss of your sister, no, brother, pardon me. No doubt it has been hard to obtain work as an ostler in a city in which so many Irish are naturally suited for the job and also as hungry for work. 1 cannot blame you for seeking betterment through uniting with other men in your situation. Certainly the English lessons you study here are a great help, for your mastery of such a difficult language is commendable, and at least your mother will soon arrive.”
“What are you? Some Gypsy fortune-teller?”
“Alas, no. I could certainly use prescience in my profession but must rely on evidence instead. I am a consulting detective.”
The man’s shrewd eyes darkened with speculation. “And how did you discover about me?”
Holmes smiled slightly at the awkward construction that betrayed the fellow’s serviceable yet imperfect command of English. “I am a student like yourself, only I deconstruct the articles of appearance instead of those of sentences. An instant’s glance allowed me to notice the resemblance between your face and that of the tiny photographic likeness you wear on your watch fob. The fob was swinging during that instant or I would have never done your brother the disservice of taking him for your sister, however briefly. As for your origin, I am also a student of accented English. By the secure lodging of your tongue in your lower jaw, yours certainly springs from east of the Volga. Beyond that is the handkerchief that peeks out of your left inner breast pocket. The embroidery is of Russian style. I admit I hesitated for a moment there. Such handiwork is usually done by young women preparing for hope chests, or quite old women occupying time as best they may. However, your watch fob already paid tribute to your late brother and the handkerchief lay near your heart. I detected a mother, one whose arrival you expect soon in view of the loss of your brother. As for your history in working with horses, such men acquire calluses on certain areas of their fingers—on the second joints between the first and
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