A Study in Terror

Ellery Explains

Ellery’s arrival was timely. Inspector Queen had just finished reading Dr. Watson’s Ripper manuscript, and he was staring at the journal with marked dissatisfaction. He turned his stare on Ellery.

“Just as well it wasn’t published. Holmes was right.”

“I thought so, too.” Ellery went to the bar. “Damn Grant! I forgot to order scotch.”

“How did it turn out?”

“Better than I expected.”

“Then you lied like a gentleman. Good for you.”

“I didn’t lie.”

“What?”

“I didn’t lie. I told her the truth.”

“Then,” said Inspector Queen coldly, “you’re a rat-fink. Deborah Osbourne loved and believed in her father. She also believes in you. Your mind is certainly crooked enough to have twisted the truth a little.”

“I didn’t have to twist the truth.”

“Why not? Tell me that! A little old lady―”

“Because, dad,” said Ellery, sinking into his swivel chair, “Lord Carfax wasn’t Jack the Ripper. A lie wasn’t necessary. Deborah’s father was no monster. She was right about him all along. She knew it, I knew it―”

“But―”

“And so did Sherlock Holmes.”

There was a silence of great length while pater tried to catch up with filius and failed.

“But it’s all down here, Ellery!” protested the Inspector.

“Yes, it is.”

“Richard Osbourne, this Lord Carfax, caught with the knife in his hand, butchering his last victim―why, Watson was an eyewitness!―wrote it all down!”

“Your point is, I take it, that Watson was an able reporter?”

“I’d say so. He also knew the evidence of his own eyes!”

Ellery got up and went over to his father, picked up the journal, and returned to his chair. “Watson was also human. He was over-subjective. He saw what Holmes wanted him to see. He reported what Holmes told him.”

“Are you saying that Holmes was pulling a fast one?”

“You’re damned right I am. The devious thing is that in this case every word from his lips was gospel. It’s what he didn’t say that counts.”

“All right. What was it that he didn’t say?”

“He didn’t at any time, for instance, call Jack the Ripper by the name of Richard Osbourne or Lord Carfax.”

“You’re quibbling,” snorted the Inspector.

Ellery riffled through the old journal. “Dad, didn’t you spot the inconsistencies in the case? Certainly you weren’t satisfied with the blackmail bit?”

“The blackmail? Let me see…”

“It went like this. Max Klein saw an opportunity for blackmail by conniving a marriage between Michael Osbourne and Angela, a prostitute. Considering the Duke of Shires’s pride of name, that made sense from Klein’s viewpoint. But it didn’t work. The marriage became public knowledge.”

“But Klein admitted to Angela that the plan had failed.”

“Not exactly. He told her, after he’d brought the couple back to London, that the marriage was no longer important as a basis for blackmail. He’d found a better gimmick. Klein lost all interest in Michael and Angela after he discovered this new weapon, obviously a better one than the marriage.”

“But the manuscript never said―”

“Dad, who was Klein? What was he? Holmes was aware from the start of his importance, even before the man was identified―when he was Holmes’s missing link. And when Holmes confronted Angela, he pried a vital piece of information out of her. To quote her on the subject of Klein: ‘Oh, yes, he was born here. He knows its every street and alley. He is greatly feared in this district. There are few who would dare cross him.’ ”

“So?”

“So what was the great secret Klein had discovered?”

“The identity of Jack the Rippersaid the Inspector slowly. “A man like that, who had an intimate knowledge of Whitechapel and its people―”

“Of course, dad. That’s what it had to be. And with the knowledge of the Ripper’s identity Klein got rich blackmailing―”

“Lord Carfax.”

“No. You’ll recall that Lord Carfax was trying desperately to locate Klein and Angela. Blackmailers confront their victims.”

“Maybe Carfax knew all the time.”

“Then why didn’t he strike earlier? Because he only learned that night at the morgue that Klein and Angela were at The Angel and Crown!”

“But Carfax struck at Angela, not Klein.”

“Further proof that he was not the blackmail victim. He mistakenly saw his brother’s wife as the evil force in the Osbourne disaster. That’s why he killed her.”

“But none of that is enough to base―”

“Then let’s find some more. Let’s follow Holmes and Watson that last night. You already know what appeared to happen. Let’s see what really did. In the first place, there were two men on the trail of the Ripper that night―Sherlock Holmes and Lord Carfax. I’m sure Carfax already had his suspicions.”

“What indication is there that Carfax was on the Ripper’s trail?”

“I’m glad you asked that question,” Ellery said sententiously. “Acting on the tip he’d picked up in Madame Leona’s whorehouse, Holmes set out on the last leg of his search. He and Watson arrived at the room in the Pacquin―”

“And Holmes said, ‘If this was the lair of the Ripper, he has fled.’ ”

“Holmes didn’t say that, Watson did. Holmes cried, ‘Someone has been here before us!’ There’s a world of difference in the two statements. One was the observation of a romantic. The other, Holmes’s, of a man trained to read a scene with photographic accuracy.”

“You have a point,” the older Queen admitted.

“A vital one. But there are others.”

“That both Holmes and Lord Carfax found the lair of Jack the Ripper at practically the same time?”

“Also that Carfax saw Holmes and Watson arrive at the Pacquin. He waited outside and followed them to the morgue. It had to be that way.”

“Why?”

“In order for Carfax to act as he did, he needed two items of information―the identity of the Ripper, which he got at the Pacquin, and the place where he could find Angela and Klein, which he overheard at the morgue.”

Inspector Queen got up and retrieved the journal. He searched and read: “ ‘And that infamous beast, Jack the Ripper?’ Watson asked Holmes that question. Holmes answered, ‘Lord Carfax died also―’ ”

“Hold it,” Ellery said. “None of this out-of-context business. Give me all of it.”

“Quote: ‘Holmes’s grey eyes were clouded with sadness; his thoughts appeared to be elsewhere. “Lord Carfax died also. And also from choice, I am certain, like his brother.” ’ ”

“That’s better. Now tell me, would Sherlock Holmes be sad over the death of Jack the Ripper?”

Inspector Queen shook his head and read on. “ ‘Naturally. He no doubt preferred death by fiery immolation to the hangman’s noose.’ ”

“Watson’s words, not Holmes’s. What Holmes then said was, ‘Let us respect the decision of an honourable man.’ ”

“To which Watson replied, ‘Honourable man! Surely you are jesting? Oh, I see. You refer to his lucid moments. And the Duke of Shires?’ ”

“Watson drew an unwarranted inference from what Holmes had said. Let’s quote Holmes again: ‘I proceeded directly from the fire to his’―meaning the Duke’s―’Berkeley Square residence… He had already had the news of Lord Carfax. Whereupon he had fallen upon the sword he kept concealed in his stick.’ ”

“And Watson exclaimed, ‘A true nobleman’s death!’ ”

“Again Watson was fooled by his own preconceptions and his misunderstanding of Holmes’s deliberate indirection. Look, dad. When Holmes reached the Duke of Shires’ town-house, he found the Duke dead. But he (the Duke) had ‘already had the news of Lord Carfax.’ I ask you, how could the Duke have already had the news of Lord Carfax? The implication is clear that the Duke had been at his Pacquin lair, where Lord Carfax confronted him, after which he went home and killed himself.”

“Because the Duke was the Ripper! And his son, knowing it, took the blame on himself to save his father’s reputation!”

“Now you’ve got it,” said Ellery gently. “Remember again what Carfax said to Watson―to spread the word that he was Jack the Ripper. He wanted to make dead sure that the guilt fell on his shoulders, not his father’s.”

“Then Holmes was right,” murmured Inspector Queen. “He didn’t want to give Lord Carfax’s sacrifice away.”

“And Deborah’s faith in her father has been vindicated after three-quarters of a century.”

“I’ll be damned!”

Ellery took Dr. Watson’s journal from his father’s hand again and opened it to the “Final Note.”

“ ‘The Case of the Peruvian Sinbad,’ he muttered. “Something about a roc’s egg…” His eyes glinted. “Dad, do you suppose Holmes could have been pulling Watson’s leg about that one, too?”