“With all this blood?” I uttered in profound disbelief. “Did you think they had taken some sort of poison?”
Lestrade ignored my sarcasm. “What else did you discover then?” he asked Holmes.
“I suggest to you that the killer is a young man who stands about five-foot-eight-inches high. He has little money, was probably a student, and though no doubt a deep thinker, maintains a two-sided nature, struggling between good and evil, the so-called homo duplex. At least, such a portrait is the one that our the villain would have us accept.”
It was, of course, a perfect description of Raskolnikov, Dostoevsky’s fictional murderer, but I let that pass.
Lestrade arched an eyebrow. “And how the deuce did you figure all that?”
“Generally speaking, this appears to be a young man’s crime, performed by a person with enough agility and determination to wield an axe. Since no weapon has been found, I assume he brought it with him.”
“How can you be so certain he didn’t pick up such a weapon here and take it away with him?” Lestrade wanted to know.
Because Raskolnikov brought his own, I found myself thinking.
Holmes smiled. “The key to it all, Lestrade, is that package you showed us in Baker Street, the one you found on the floor by the body. As Watson has already suggested, the reason it was fastened so tightly was to command the pawnbroker’s attention. The murderer knew before he ever got here how he would attack his victim. He had no choice but to bring the weapon along.”
I appreciated the recognition from Holmes even though it was Dostoevsky who had laid out the original plan.
“As we have already proposed,” Holmes continued, ‘the pawnbroker would assume something of value was inside and concentrate all his effort on untying the complicated knot. There are red fibres from the string under his nails that suggest how hard he worked at it before finally giving up in frustration and simply forcing the string to come off. Remember too that by 7 it was quite dark so that Gottfried required light to examine the pledge. Notice how his body is directed towards the lamp on the table. What is more, one can see where the package fell when he was struck.”
My gaze followed the direction in which Holmes’ forefinger was pointing. In the midst of the blood spray, a small rectangular void clearly revealed where the dropped package had lain during the vicious attack.
“So intent must Gottfried have been in the process of opening it that he made a fatal mistake. Turning his back on the person who had brought it allowed the villain the opportunity to land the mortal blow. The murderer’s height can be reckoned based on the placement of the strike - not atop the crown of the pawnbroker, who stood at about six feet, but slightly to the rear of the skull.”
“The killer might simply have missed his aim,” I offered.
“True, Watson, he might have indeed - except that the wound to the woman, who was shorter than Gottfried, is still not as high up on the skull as a taller man would have landed it. No doubt she interrupted the bloody assault upon her husband and suffered the fate of many an unlucky witness who stumbles across a crime in progress.”
“And your remarks concerning his psychological nature, this two-sided business?” I asked.
“One infers he was impoverished - hence, his need for a pawnbroker and the subsequent robbery. I should expect he was a regular customer of Samuel Gottfried, for why else would Gottfried have dared to turn his back? On the one hand, the killer planned at some length to commit the crime. And yet in his haste to search for loot to plunder, he overlooked a drawer at the bottom of the bureau containing a number of five-pound notes. He did locate a chest beneath the bed and managed to open it, but for whatever the reason he did not feel he could spend the time looking for more. A meticulous planner, but a distracted executioner.”
I nodded. Raskolnikov too had stolen from a chest hidden under a bed, and he also had overlooked money kept elsewhere that would have been his for the taking. “But a deep thinker, Holmes, a student? Certainly that is quite a leap.”
“You’ll note that atop the bookshelf in the sitting room lies a volume of lectures by Thomas Carlyle titled On Heroes, Hero-Worship, and the Heroic in History. There are fresh blood smears on the cover and on the edges of the pages, but no spray. There can be little doubt that the murderer handled the book, but not until after committing the crime. One must conclude, therefore, that it was placed atop the shelf after the Gottfrieds had been dispatched by someone familiar with the text.”
“Surely, Holmes,” I protested, “you’re not suggesting that the killer took the time to seek out a book by Thomas Carlyle in the library of Samuel Gottfried?”
“On the contrary, Watson. “Though a religious man might have any number of philosophical works on his shelf, I believe that in this case the book was purposely left in that prominent spot by the murderer. Curious, is it not? Insufficient time to rob the place, but opportunity enough to set out a copy of Carlyle’s lectures in a place where we could find it. Oh, I think we must credit our villain with intellectual tastes that go beyond the common workingman.”
“I’m afraid I don’t follow,” said Lestrade.
I did. Carlyle’s collected lectures promoted theories about the so-called great men of history. Even a cursory reading of Crime and Punishment would reveal Raskolnikov’s admiration for Napoleon, a figure whom Carlyle addresses in his final lecture. Thanks to Dostoevsky, the entire crime seemed straightforward to me.
“If you say so, Mr Holmes,” said Lestrade, shaking his head. “In any case, we shall keep our eyes peeled for just such a man.”
“And request that patrons of Mr Gottfried
