Этюд в багровых тонах / A Study in Scarlet

It was a large square room without furniture. A vulgar paper adorned the walls. Opposite the door was a showy fireplace, surmounted by a mantelpiece. On one corner of this was the stump of a red wax candle. The window was so dirty that the light was hazy and uncertain. All these details I observed afterwards.

A single grim motionless figure lay upon the floor. It was a man about forty-three or forty-four years of age, middle-sized, broad shouldered, with curling black hair, and a short stubbly beard. He was dressed in a frock coat[20 - frock coat – сюртук] and waistcoat, with light-coloured trousers.

A top hat[21 - top hat – цилиндр] was placed upon the floor beside him. His hands were clenched and his arms thrown abroad[22 - thrown abroad – раскинуты], while his legs were interlocked[23 - legs were interlocked – ноги были скрючены]. On his rigid face there stood an expression of horror and of hatred. This malignant and terrible contortion, the low forehead, blunt nose, and prognathous jaw[24 - prognathous jaw – выступающая вперёд челюсть] gave the dead man an ape-like[25 - ape-like – обезьяноподобный] appearance.

Lestrade was standing by the doorway, and greeted my companion and myself.

Sherlock Holmes approached the body. He knelt down and examined it intently.

“You are sure that there is no wound?” he asked. He pointed to numerous gouts and splashes of blood which lay all round.

“Yes!” cried both detectives.

“Then, of course, this blood belongs to somebody else, maybe to the murderer, if it is a murder?”

As he spoke, his nimble fingers were flying here, there, and everywhere. They were feeling, pressing, unbuttoning, examining. Finally, he sniffed the dead man’s lips, and then glanced at the soles of his patent leather boots.

“You can take him to the mortuary now,” he said.

Four men entered the room, and they lifted and carried the stranger out.

As they raised him, a ring tinkled down and rolled across the floor. Lestrade took it.

“There was a woman here,” he cried. “It’s a woman’s wedding-ring.”

He held it upon the palm of his hand. We all gazed at it.

“This complicates matters,” said Gregson.

“You’re sure it doesn’t simplify them?” observed Holmes. “What did you find in his pockets?”

“Here,” said Gregson. “A gold watch, No.