Этюд в багровых тонах / A Study in Scarlet

The first difficulty was to finding the information about the victim’s American life. Do you remember the hat beside the dead man?”

“Yes,” said Holmes; “by John Underwood and Sons, 129, Camberwell Road.”

“I had no idea that you noticed that,” said Gregson. “Well, I went to Underwood, and asked him about the customer of that hat. He looked over his books, and found him. He sent the hat to a Mr. Drebber, residing at Charpentier’s Boarding Establishment, Torquay Terrace[42 - Charpentier’s Boarding Establishment, Torquay Terrace – пансион Шарпантье на Торки-Террас].

Thus I got at his address.”

“Smart – very smart!” murmured Sherlock Holmes.

“Then I met Madame Charpentier,” continued the detective. “I found her very pale and distressed. Her daughter was in the room, too. Her lips trembled as I spoke to her. That didn’t escape my notice. I began to smell a rat. You know the feeling, Mr. Sherlock Holmes – a kind of thrill in your nerves.

�Do you know about the mysterious death of your boarder Mr. Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleveland?’ I asked.

The mother nodded. The daughter burst into tears[43 - burst into tears – расплакалась]. �At what o’clock did Mr. Drebber leave your house for the train?’ I asked.

�At eight o’clock,’ she said. �His secretary, Mr. Stangerson, said that there were two trains – one at 9.15 and one at 11. He wanted to catch the first.

�And did you see him after that?’

A terrible change came over the woman’s face as I asked the question.

�No,’ she said in a husky unnatural tone.

There was silence for a moment, and then the daughter spoke in a calm voice.

�Please, don’t lie, mother,’ she said. �Let us be frank with this gentleman. We saw Mr. Drebber again.’

�Oh!’ cried Madame Charpentier. �You murdered your brother!’

�Please tell me all about it now,’ I said.

�I will tell you all, sir!’ cried her mother, �Alice, leave us together.

Now, sir,’ she continued, �I have no alternative. Mr. Drebber stayed with us nearly three weeks. He and his secretary, Mr. Stangerson, were travelling on the Continent. I noticed a “Copenhagen” label upon each of their trunks. Stangerson was a quiet reserved man, but his employer, I am sorry to say, was coarse and brutish. He drank a lot, and, indeed, after twelve o’clock he was never sober.