Jack The Ripper: Newly Discovered Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Read Online Free

body. Call me, and I will dust the body and the surroundings for fingerprints.”
    “Dust it?” said Grant. “Of course I will do as you ask—but what do you mean by dusting it?”
    “I have been experimenting, as I said,” answered Holmes. “Dusting is a way of making the fingerprints visible, using a variety of substances and some very careful collection methods. So far I have had fairly reliable results with very finely sifted ashes, and I am still considering other ways of lifting a print.”
    “Fascinating,” said Grant. “I will instruct the officers as you have requested.”
    The witness list Grant left him with was long. Holmes had his work cut out for him, and he knew he would not only need intelligence but also stamina to see this case through to its conclusion.
     
    Holmes and the first witness, a man named Mr. Henry Birch, sat down at Birch’s kitchen table. Mr. Birch was the proprietor of a milk stand near where the murder had occurred.
    “At a little past eleven a man came to my stand, and said he quite desperately wanted a glass of milk. He appeared nervous, his eyes darting around, and he was carrying a black bag. I gave him the milk, which he drank down hurriedly, and then he asked if he might step into the yard beside my stand. I said I had no objection—and why should I have?—but I became suspicious upon reconsidering his demeanor. When I stepped out to check on him, I saw that he was pulling on a pair of overalls. The man paused and said, ‘That was a terrible murder last night, wasn’t it?’ and then he picked up his bag and was gone,” Birch continued. “I thought he might be a detective in disguise, or even an engineer once I saw the overalls.”
    “Did you recognize him?”
    “No, sir. I had never seen the fellow before.”
    “Can you give me any details of his appearance?” Holmes asked.
    “Well, he had on a blue suit with a stand-up collar, and a low hat, and a watch chain hanging from his pants. He had a slight mustache and his face seemed to be a little sunburned—perhaps he was even a sailor or some other sort of seafaring man. Say, do you think it was the killer himself?”
    “I can’t speak on the matter so early in the investigation,” Holmes answered. “Though I’d appreciate any other detail you may remember.”
    That was all Mr. Birch could tell him, so Holmes excused himself to move on to the next witness. First, though, he would join forces with Dr. Watson—his friend always had some insight to add, and would be an invaluable ally in interviewing the remaining witnesses.
    “Would it not be better to call the witnesses into Scotland Yard?” asked Dr. Watson. “If time is of the essence, such a strategy will save you a substantial amount of time.”
    “Jolly good idea, Watson. I knew I kept you around for some reason,” Holmes laughed. “I suspect some witnesses would be more comfortable speaking in their own homes or place of work, but if I feel that’s the case I can always make a personal follow-up visit later on.”
    Holmes proceeded to send messengers out to find and invite everyone on his list and set up appointments starting within the hour.
    Holmes also sent a message to Mrs. Parker that both he and Dr. Watson would return to the house on Baker Street for a late supper; he didn’t want the kindly maid to worry about them, and he also didn’t want a cold meal after such a long day of work.
    Before returning to the station, Holmes and Dr. Watson walked through the dank streets of Whitechapel, where they found a crowd of citizens indulging their nosiness and slinking around to steal a look at where the woman had been murdered. Police were still there cleaning up and trying to dispatch the onlookers. There was nothing useful left at the scene.
    Holmes thought briefly to himself that he must request that Scotland Yard close off any future murder scene as quickly as possible—chances were they had lost valuable evidence by not doing so.
     

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