There was a bunk at one end, a sea-chest, maps and charts, a picture of the SEA UNICORN, a line of log-books on a shelf, all exactly as one would expect to find it in a captain's room.
And there in the middle of it was the man himself, his face twisted like a lost soul in torment, and his great brindled beard stuck upwards in his agony.Right through his broad breast a steel harpoon had been driven, and it had sunk deep into the wood of the wall behind him.He was pinned like a beetle on a card.
Of course, he was quite dead, and had been so from the instant that he had uttered that last yell of agony.
"I know your methods, sir, and I applied them.
Before I permitted anything to be moved I examined most carefully the ground outside, and also the floor of the room.
There were no footmarks."
"Meaning that you saw none?"
"I assure you, sir, that there were none.""My good Hopkins, I have investigated many crimes, but I have never yet seen one which was committed by a flying creature.
As long as the criminal remains upon two legs so long must there be some indentation, some abrasion, some trifling displacement which can be detected by the scientific searcher.It is incredible that this blood-bespattered room contained no trace which could have aided us.I understand, however, from the inquest that there were some objects which you failed to overlook?"The young inspector winced at my companion's ironical comments.
"I was a fool not to call you in at the time, Mr.Holmes.
However, that's past praying for now.Yes, there were several objects in the room which called for special attention.
One was the harpoon with which the deed was committed.
It had been snatched down from a rack on the wall.
Two others remained there, and there was a vacant place for the third.On the stock was engraved `Ss.SEA UNICORN, Dundee.'