affirming that Mr Lestrade was on his way home alone and would be back in Liverpool on the seventeenth or eighteenth.
On the evening of the last named day Holmes and I sat smoking in his Baker Street rooms, when his boy came in to announce that Mr Lestrade of Scotland Yard was below and would like the favour of a few minutes’ conversation. “Show him up, show him up,” said Holmes, rubbing his hands together with an excitement quite unusual to him. Lestrade entered the room and sat down in the seat to which Holmes waved him, with a most dejected air. “It’s not often I’m at fault, Mr Holmes,” he began, “but in this Sheffield business I’ve been beaten hollow.
“Dear me,” said Holmes pleasantly, “you surely don’t mean to tell me that you haven’t got your man yet.” “I do,” said Lestrade. “What’s more, I don’t think he ever will be caught!” “Don’t despair so soon,” said Holmes encouragingly. “After you have told us all that’s already happened, it’s just within the bounds of possibility that I may be able to help you with some little suggestions.” Thus encouraged, Lestrade began his strange story to which we both listened with breathless interest. “It’s quite unnecessary for me to dwell upon incidents which are already familiar,” he said. “You know of the discovery I made in Sheffield which, of course, convinced me that the man I wanted had sailed for New York on the Empress Queen. I was in a fever of impatience for his arrest, and when I heard that the boat he had taken passage on had been placed in quarantine, I set off at once in order that I might actually lay hands upon him myself. Never have five days seemed so long. “We reached New York on the evening of the ninth, and I rushed off at once to the head of the New York police and from him learned that there was no doubt whatever that Mr Jabez Booth was indeed on board the Empress Queen. One of the sanitary inspectors who had had to visit the boat had not only seen but actually spoken to him. The man exactly answered the description of Booth which had appeared in the papers. One of the New York detectives had been sent on board to make a few inquiries and to inform the captain privately of the impending arrest. He found that Mr Jabez Booth had actually had the audacity to book his passage and travel under his real name without even attempting to disguise himself in any way. He had a private first-class cabin, and the purser declared that he had been suspicious of the man from the first. He had kept himself shut up in his cabin nearly all the time, posing as an eccentric semi-invalid person who must not be disturbed on any account. Most of his meals had been sent down to his cabin, and he had been seen on deck but seldom and hardly ever dined with the rest of the passengers. It was quite evident that he had been trying to keep out of sight and to attract as little attention as possible. The stewards and some of the passengers who were approached on the subject later were all agreed that this was the case. “It was decided that during the time the boat was in quarantine nothing should be said to Booth to arouse his suspicions but that the pursers, steward, and captain, who were the only persons in the secret, should between them keep him under observation until the tenth, the day on which passengers would be allowed to leave the boat. On that day he should be arrested.” Here we were interrupted by Holmes’s boy, who came in with a telegram. Holmes glanced at it with a faint smile.
“No answer,” he said, slipping it in his waistcoat pocket. “Pray continue your very interesting story, Lestrade.” “Well, on the afternoon of the tenth, accompanied by the New York chief inspector of police and detective Forsyth,” resumed Lestrade, “I went on board the Empress Queen half an hour before she was due to come up to the landing stage to allow passengers to disembark. “The purser informed us that Mr. Booth had been on deck and that he had been in conversation with him about fifteen minutes before our arrival. He had then gone down to his cabin and the purser, making some excuse to go down also, had actually seen him enter it. He had been standing near the top of the companionway since then and was sure Booth had not come up on deck again since. “‘At last,’ I muttered to myself, as we all went down below, led by the purser, who took us straight to Booth’s cabin. We knocked but, getting no answer, tried the door and found it locked. The purser assured us, however, that this was nothing unusual. Mr. Booth had had his cabin door locked a good deal and, often, even his meals had been left on a tray outside. We held a hurried consultation and, as time was short, decided to force the door. Two good blows with a heavy hammer broke it from the hinges, and we all rushed in. You can picture our astonishment when we found the cabin empty. We searched it thoroughly, and Booth was certainly not there.”