Detective and mystery stories; Hoodlums -- Fiction; London (England) -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Murder -- Fiction
“There are some little points,” he said with a deprecating wave of the
hand, “which I should like to confirm.” He opened the book, sought the
wanted page, and continued: “Do either of you know a person answering
to the following description: Height, about four feet eight-and-a-half
inches, medium build and carries himself with a nervous stoop. Has a
habit of rubbing his palms together when addressing anyone. Has plump
hands with rather tapering fingers, and a growth of reddish down upon
the backs thereof, indicating that he has red or reddish hair. His chin
recedes slightly and is pointed, with a slight cleft parallel with the
mouth and situated equidistant from the base of the chin and the lower
lip. A nervous mannerism of the latter periodically reveals the lower
teeth, one of which, that immediately below the left canine, is much
discolored. He is clean-shaven, but may at some time have worn whiskers.
His eyes are small and ferret-like, set very closely together and of
a ruddy brown color. His nose is wide at the bridge, but narrows to an
unusual point at the end. In profile it is irregular, or may have been
broken at some time. He has scanty eyebrows set very high, and a low
forehead with two faint, vertical wrinkles starting from the inner
points of the eyebrows. His natural complexion is probably sallow, and
his hair (as hitherto mentioned) either red or of sandy color. His
ears are set far back, and the lobes are thin and pointed. His hair is
perfectly straight and sparse, and there is a depression of the cheeks
where one would expect to find a prominence: that is--at the cheekbone.
The cranial development is unusual. The skull slopes back from the crown
at a remarkable angle, there being no protuberance at the back, but
instead a straight slope to the spine, sometimes seen in the Teutonic
races, and in this case much exaggerated. Viewed from the front the
skull is narrow, the temples depressed, and the crown bulging over the
ears, and receding to a ridge on top. In profile the forehead is almost
apelike in size and contour....”
“SOAMES!” exclaimed Inspector Dunbar, leaping to his feet, and
bringing both his palms with a simultaneous bang upon the table before
him--“Soames, by God!”
M. Max, shrugging and smiling slightly, returned his notebook to his
pocket, and, taking out a cigar-case, placed it, open, upon the table,
inviting both his confreres, with a gesture, to avail themselves of its
contents.
“I thought so,” he said simply. “I am glad.”
Sowerby selected a cigar in a dazed manner, but Dunbar, ignoring the
presence of the cigar-case, leant forward across the table, his eyes
blazing, and his small, even, lower teeth revealed in a sort of grim
smile.
“M. Max,” he said tensely--“you are a clever man! Where have you got
him?”
“I have not got him,” replied the Frenchman, selecting and lighting one
of his own cigars. “He is much too useful to be locked up”...
“But”...
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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