French detective, was the father of the revolutionary system of classifying and trapping criminals by measuring and recording certain unchangeable parts of the human body. He called his invention ‘anthropometry’ or body measurement.
3. In 1896, in the district of Hooghly in Bengal, the Inspector General of Police introduced, for the first time anywhere in the world, the system of fingerprinting for identifying criminals. Only in 1901 did Scotland Yard adopt the Henry system of classifying prints by patterns and shapes.
6
A Shot in the Dark
Without a word Sherlock Holmes rushed out of the room. Strickland and I followed him out of the hotel to the rank of carriages that stood outside the hotel gates. As our carriage rattled down Frere Street towards Horniman Circle, Mr Holmes lit a cigarette and puffed at it in an abrupt and vexed manner.
‘It was criminally careless of me not to have anticipated Moran’s move,’ said he. ‘Now I fear that the one frail thread we had to tie up this case has just snapped.’
‘But we still have the evidence of the thumbprint, Mr Holmes,’ I suggested. ‘Would it not suffice, in the ad interim, to secure the detention of Colonel Moran, till a more formidable case has been formulated?’
‘My dear Huree, the evidence of the thumbprint would be too outre for any magistrate to think of issuing a warrant against a person of Moran’s standing. We must not also forget that our old shikari is a man of diverse resources; he would flick away any such obstacles as we could, at the moment, put in his way.’
‘I fear you are right, Mr Holmes,’ said Strickland dejectedly. ‘We needed that blasted desk-clerk’s confession, and now he’s dead. I should have warned MacLeod….’
‘The fault is entirely mine, Strickland,’ said Sherlock Holmes gravely. ‘You could not have foreseen such an eventuality. But hulloa! I see we have arrived at our destination. Nothing less than a murder would draw such a mob — if the morbid curiosity of the London crowd is anything to judge the rest of humanity by.’
Indeed, the crowd before the Horniman Circle police station was so large that the progress of our carriage was severely impeded. In spite of my remonstrances, barefooted little street urchins clambered like monkeys all over our carriage to secure a loftier view point. Finally Strickland and the police sergeant had to dismount and force their way through the press of bodies. After paying off the ghariwallah, Mr Holmes and I followed.
‘Chale jao, you chaps,’ Strickland shouted above the hubbub, ‘move along there.’ Swinging his swagger-stick vigorously before him, he managed to clear a path through the throng. Some constables spotted us and, brandishing their lathis, came to our assistance. Once we got through the crowd I saw a large pool of blood on the ground. The body had been removed to the police station. Inside, a visibly distraught Inspector MacLeod met us, his grey scraggly moustache looking more dishevelled than ever.
‘I’m very sorry about this, Sir,’ he stammered. ‘For the life of me I just can’t imagine …’
‘My dear MacLeod,’ Strickland interrupted,‘just tell us exactly what happened …’
‘Well Sir,’ the inspector began, ‘I escorted the prisoner from the hotel in the police victoria. I had two constables with me. When the victoria got to the thana and I was alighting, something struck the prisoner on the chest, mutilating it horribly. The effect was that of a gun-shot wound, but it could nae have been one. since neither I nor the constables heard the sound of a fire-arm being discharged. We managed to get the wounded man inside and Dr Patterson immediately attended to him, but it was nae use. He died a few minutes later.’
A stout middle-aged Englishman in a white surgical gown came out from another room. I presumed this was Dr Patterson.
‘Good evening, Mr Strickland … gentlemen,’ he greeted us quickly and turned to Inspector
3. In 1896, in the district of Hooghly in Bengal, the Inspector General of Police introduced, for the first time anywhere in the world, the system of fingerprinting for identifying criminals. Only in 1901 did Scotland Yard adopt the Henry system of classifying prints by patterns and shapes.
6
A Shot in the Dark
Without a word Sherlock Holmes rushed out of the room. Strickland and I followed him out of the hotel to the rank of carriages that stood outside the hotel gates. As our carriage rattled down Frere Street towards Horniman Circle, Mr Holmes lit a cigarette and puffed at it in an abrupt and vexed manner.
‘It was criminally careless of me not to have anticipated Moran’s move,’ said he. ‘Now I fear that the one frail thread we had to tie up this case has just snapped.’
‘But we still have the evidence of the thumbprint, Mr Holmes,’ I suggested. ‘Would it not suffice, in the ad interim, to secure the detention of Colonel Moran, till a more formidable case has been formulated?’
‘My dear Huree, the evidence of the thumbprint would be too outre for any magistrate to think of issuing a warrant against a person of Moran’s standing. We must not also forget that our old shikari is a man of diverse resources; he would flick away any such obstacles as we could, at the moment, put in his way.’
‘I fear you are right, Mr Holmes,’ said Strickland dejectedly. ‘We needed that blasted desk-clerk’s confession, and now he’s dead. I should have warned MacLeod….’
‘The fault is entirely mine, Strickland,’ said Sherlock Holmes gravely. ‘You could not have foreseen such an eventuality. But hulloa! I see we have arrived at our destination. Nothing less than a murder would draw such a mob — if the morbid curiosity of the London crowd is anything to judge the rest of humanity by.’
Indeed, the crowd before the Horniman Circle police station was so large that the progress of our carriage was severely impeded. In spite of my remonstrances, barefooted little street urchins clambered like monkeys all over our carriage to secure a loftier view point. Finally Strickland and the police sergeant had to dismount and force their way through the press of bodies. After paying off the ghariwallah, Mr Holmes and I followed.
‘Chale jao, you chaps,’ Strickland shouted above the hubbub, ‘move along there.’ Swinging his swagger-stick vigorously before him, he managed to clear a path through the throng. Some constables spotted us and, brandishing their lathis, came to our assistance. Once we got through the crowd I saw a large pool of blood on the ground. The body had been removed to the police station. Inside, a visibly distraught Inspector MacLeod met us, his grey scraggly moustache looking more dishevelled than ever.
‘I’m very sorry about this, Sir,’ he stammered. ‘For the life of me I just can’t imagine …’
‘My dear MacLeod,’ Strickland interrupted,‘just tell us exactly what happened …’
‘Well Sir,’ the inspector began, ‘I escorted the prisoner from the hotel in the police victoria. I had two constables with me. When the victoria got to the thana and I was alighting, something struck the prisoner on the chest, mutilating it horribly. The effect was that of a gun-shot wound, but it could nae have been one. since neither I nor the constables heard the sound of a fire-arm being discharged. We managed to get the wounded man inside and Dr Patterson immediately attended to him, but it was nae use. He died a few minutes later.’
A stout middle-aged Englishman in a white surgical gown came out from another room. I presumed this was Dr Patterson.
‘Good evening, Mr Strickland … gentlemen,’ he greeted us quickly and turned to Inspector
Similar Books
