The Adventure of the Cardboard Box

by Arthur Conan Doyle

went into thehouse with the intention of clearing up this point. I was about toassure Miss Cushing that I was convinced that a mistake had been madewhen you may remember that I came suddenly to a stop. The fact wasthat I had just seen something which filled me with surprise and at thesame time narrowed the field of our inquiry immensely.

  "As a medical man, you are aware, Watson, that there is no part of thebody which varies so much as the human ear. Each ear is as a rulequite distinctive and differs from all other ones. In last year'sAnthropological Journal you will find two short monographs from my penupon the subject. I had, therefore, examined the ears in the box withthe eyes of an expert and had carefully noted their anatomicalpeculiarities. Imagine my surprise, then, when on looking at MissCushing I perceived that her ear corresponded exactly with the femaleear which I had just inspected. The matter was entirely beyondcoincidence. There was the same shortening of the pinna, the samebroad curve of the upper lobe, the same convolution of the innercartilage. In all essentials it was the same ear.

  "In the first place, her sister's name was Sarah, and her address haduntil recently been the same, so that it was quite obvious how themistake had occurred and for whom the packet was meant. Then we heardof this steward, married to the third sister, and learned that he hadat one time been so intimate with Miss Sarah that she had actually goneup to Liverpool to be near the Browners, but a quarrel had afterwardsdivided them. This quarrel had put a stop to all communications forsome months, so that if Browner had occasion to address a packet toMiss Sarah, he would undoubtedly have done so to her old address.

  "And now the matter had begun to straighten itself out wonderfully. Wehad learned of the existence of this steward, an impulsive man, ofstrong passions--you remember that he threw up what must have been avery superior berth in order to be nearer to his wife--subject, too, tooccasional fits of hard drinking. We had reason to believe that hiswife had been murdered, and that a man--presumably a seafaring man--hadbeen murdered at the same time. Jealousy, of course, at once suggestsitself as the motive for the crime. And why should these proofs of thedeed be sent to Miss Sarah Cushing? Probably because during herresidence in Liverpool she had some hand in bringing about the eventswhich led to the tragedy. You will observe that this line of boatscall at Belfast, Dublin, and Waterford; so that, presuming that Brownerhad committed the deed and had embarked at once upon his steamer, theMay Day, Belfast would be the first place at which he could post histerrible packet.

  "A second solution was at this stage obviously possible, and although Ithought it exceedingly unlikely, I was determined to elucidate itbefore going further. An unsuccessful lover might have killed Mr. andMrs. Browner, and the male ear might have belonged to the husband.There were many grave objections to this theory, but it wasconceivable. I therefore sent off a telegram to my friend Algar, ofthe Liverpool force, and asked him to find out if Mrs. Browner were athome, and if Browner had departed in the May Day. Then we went on toWallington to visit Miss Sarah.

  "I was curious, in the first place, to see how far the family ear hadbeen reproduced in her. Then, of course, she might give us veryimportant information, but I was not sanguine that she would. She musthave heard of the business the day before, since all Croydon wasringing with it, and she alone could have understood for whom thepacket was meant. If she had been willing to help justice she wouldprobably have communicated with the police already. However, it wasclearly our duty to see her, so we went. We found that the news of thearrival of the packet--for her illness dated from that time--had suchan effect upon her as to bring on brain fever. It was clearer thanever that she understood its full significance, but equally clear thatwe should have to wait some time for any assistance from her.

  "However, we were really independent of her help. Our answers werewaiting for us at the police-station, where I had directed Algar tosend them. Nothing could be more conclusive. Mrs. Browner's house hadbeen closed for more than three days, and the neighbours were ofopinion that she had gone south to see her relatives. It had beenascertained at the shipping offices that Browner had left aboard of theMay Day, and I calculate that she is due in the Thames tomorrow night.When he arrives he will be met by the obtuse but resolute Lestrade, andI have no doubt that we shall have all our details filled in."

  Sherlock Holmes was not disappointed in his expectations. Two dayslater he received a bulky envelope, which contained a short note fromthe detective, and a typewritten document, which covered several pagesof foolscap.

  "Lestrade has got him all right," said Holmes, glancing up at me."Perhaps it would interest you to hear what he says.

  "My dear Mr. Holmes:

  In accordance with the scheme which we had formed in order to test ourtheories" ["the 'we' is rather fine, Watson, is it not?"] "I went downto the Albert Dock yesterday at 6 p.m., and boarded the S.S. May Day,belonging to the Liverpool, Dublin, and London Steam Packet Company.On inquiry, I found that there was a steward on board of the name ofJames Browner and that he had acted during the voyage in such anextraordinary manner that the captain had been compelled to relieve himof his duties. On descending to his berth, I found him seated upon achest with his head sunk upon his hands, rocking himself to and fro.He is a big, powerful chap, clean-shaven, and very swarthy--somethinglike Aldrige, who helped us in the bogus laundry affair. He jumped upwhen he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my lips to call acouple of river police, who were round the corner, but he seemed tohave no heart in him, and he held out his hands quietly enough for thedarbies. We brought him along to the cells, and his box as well, forwe thought there might be something incriminating; but, bar a big sharpknife such as most sailors have, we got nothing for our trouble.However, we find that we shall want no more evidence, for on beingbrought before the inspector at the station he asked leave to make astatement, which was, of course, taken down, just as he made it, by ourshorthand man. We had three copies typewritten, one of which Ienclose. The affair proves, as I always thought it would, to be anextremely simple one, but I am obliged to you for assisting me in myinvestigation. With kind regards,

  "Yours very truly, "G. Lestrade.

  "Hum! The investigation really was a very simple one," remarkedHolmes, "but I don't think it struck him in that light when he firstcalled us in. However, let us see what Jim Browner has to say forhimself. This is his statement as made before Inspector Montgomery atthe Shadwell Police Station, and it has the advantage of beingverbatim."

  "'Have I anything to say? Yes, I have a deal to say. I have to make aclean breast of it all. You can hang me, or you can leave me alone. Idon't care a plug which you do. I tell you I've not shut an eye insleep since I did it, and I don't believe I ever will again until I getpast all waking. Sometimes it's his face, but most generally it'shers. I'm never without one or the other before me. He looks frowningand black-like, but she has a kind o' surprise upon her face. Ay, thewhite lamb, she might well be surprised when she read death on a facethat had seldom looked anything but love upon her before.

  "'But it was Sarah's fault, and may the curse of a broken man put ablight on her and set the blood rotting in her veins! It's not that Iwant to clear myself. I know that I went back to drink, like the beastthat I was. But she would have forgiven me; she would have stuck asclose to me as a rope to a block if that woman had never darkened ourdoor. For Sarah Cushing loved me--that's the root of the business--sheloved me until all her love turned to poisonous hate when she knew thatI thought more of my wife's footmark in the mud than I did of her wholebody and soul.

  "'There were three sisters altogether. The old one was just a goodwoman, the second was a devil, and the third was an angel. Sarah wasthirty-three, and Mary was twenty-nine when I married. We were just ashappy as the day was long when we set up house together, and in allLiverpool there was no better woman than my Mary. And then we askedSarah up for a week, and the week grew into a month, and one thing ledto another, until she was just one of ourselves.

  "'I was
blue ribbon at that time, and we were putting a little moneyby, and all was as bright as a new dollar. My God, whoever would havethought that it could have come to this? Whoever would have dreamed it?

  "'I used to be home for the week-ends very often, and sometimes if theship were held back for cargo I would have a whole week at a time, andin this way I saw a deal of my sister-in-law, Sarah. She was a finetall woman, black and quick and fierce, with a proud way of carryingher head, and a glint from her eye like a spark from a flint. But whenlittle Mary was there I had never a thought of her, and that I swear asI hope for God's mercy.

  "'It had seemed to me sometimes that she liked to be alone with me, orto coax me out for a walk with her, but I had never thought anything ofthat. But one evening my eyes