Bryan Porter [Porter - The Curious Case of the Broken Window

The CuriousCase of the Broken Window

By Bryan M.Porter

Copyright 2012 Bryan Porter

Published byBryan Porter at Smashwords

ISBN978-0-9880793-1-1

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After myrelease of the case titled the Ghost of Belgravia, I have hadcommunications from the papers, who wish to hear more of thestrange cases involving my friend. I feel no small pride in thefact that I have in some small way made the world aware of my dearfriend and his deeds. Though yet again I find myself hard pressedto choose from the many cases we had worked on together. Afterreviewing the first article, I find that I had made mention of thecase of the broken window, and seeing the main turns we took beforereaching our conclusion, I felt it the best choice, though I amglad the Count is no longer with us so that he would not have torelive the event.

It was July 25,1864 when next I found myself in the company of my unique andsomewhat strange companion, though at the time I was not aware thatour paths would cross. The day was reaching its end when somethingvery queer happened. As I had collected my coat and hat, I wasapproached by a younger constable already sporting a wide bushymoustache. I was informed that the chief inspector wished to have aword with me and as my time was not quite done I accented. ChiefInspector Anderson was a broad man, though more so through thewaist that chest. His eyes were a pale green almost sickly, and hehad grown a large but neatly trimmed beard.

Tell meWright; is it your prerogative to consort with criminals? Thefirst question hit me with all the force as a rampaging horse.

Why, no. Ihuffed trying to catch my bearing. Not outside of work that is.Why do you ask?

Well it seemsone knows you. There was a murder over at Upper Philmore Gardens.Seems some rich git by the name of Cartwright got himself shot.Blasted out the second floor window and lodged in his chest.Inspector McMurdy was placed in charge of the scene, and could youbelieve it when he began to investigate he founds a man prowlingthe streets with an uncommon knowledge of the crime. He won'tanswer any of the questions we set to him; all he will say is thathe wishes to speak to you.

What a strangeincident. I muttered more to myself.

I would preferthat this gets taken care of quickly. Anderson said. The addressis 1907 Upper Philimore Gardens. Get the suspect to speak. I have afeel that when he does things will become much clearer.

I was out ofthe door before the conversation had finished, and dropping ahalf-pence into the hands of a coach man I was soon whisked off inthe direction of the crime. I must admit that I was intrigued bywho this man could be, as I didn't keep company with many outsideof work and a handful of friends. It took me a quarter of an hourto reach the scene, and when I jumped down from the hansom I wasgreeted by the constable who was first on the scene, whom I vaguelyknew as Morris.

InspectorWright. It is good that you are here, as perhaps you could shedsome light on this queer individual.

Is he sounique?

I should sayso.

I would havequestioned him further but when I entered the mansion I was greetedby the sight of a deeply crimson waist coat that I had come toassociate with one man. As my eyes focused I took in the rail thinframe, and narrow features.

Count. Iuttered in astonishment, as my friend and companion was seated on avelvet duvet with irons clapped over his wrist sat the Count ofSamerand.

Ah myInspector Wright, it is good you are here. Since you recognize himas the Count of Samerand, I suppose that you are in fact acquaintedwith him. I must say though that I frown upon inspectorsassociating with the sort who would get themselves involved in sucha matter. He won't even be as good as to tell us his name.

InspectorMcMurdy was a short man with a wide frame, small eyes set togetherand a large moustache that showed tobacco stains.

I havewondered often times myself what it is but he has never deemed itnecessary to inform me.

And I nevershall my friend, there are some mysteries that are better leftalone, but come come, surely with my good name restored to me youcan surely release me from this bondage.

McMurdy lookeddubious. Your good name does not except you from the law. Saidthe inspector. When I arrived on scene, I perceived this gentlemanwondering around the area with far too much interest. When I spoketo him, he advised me that I would be better off not inspecting theerror for the murderer, without me saying a word. Why I had him incuffs so quick that his head would spin, and would you guess itthat when I did so, we found a spot of powder on his cuff. I thinkwe shall soon have this case wrapped up.

It was onlyfrom my experiences with the Count, that I was able to see hisexpression of polite congeniality was false. Really, Inspector,you place the blame at my feet before ever I can prove myinnocence.

I think we arewell beyond that.

But surely,you must give me a chance to prove myself.

The inspectorconsidered it. You are no detective, so how could you hope toprove your innocence?

Inspector.Said I. The Count has helped me on many a case and I can assureyou that his powers of deduction are like no I have seenbefore?

Is that so?McMurdy said dubiously. Well if they are so wondrous, I will givehim two hours. That is if he can prove it to me, perhaps you couldglean something about me just from sight.

I have alreadyremarked you dear inspector. The count said absently. You are aman of some vices. You take liberally of both smoke and drink, youare suffering from a rather, what I believe to be gout, and youhave lost your wife six months ago.

My good man,how could you know that?

Quite simply.When I examine your left hand I see tobacco of stains of deepcolour circling out from your index and middle finger, thecomfortable place for a cigarette. The shade tells me that you havehad several since the last time you have washed your hands. Youshirt on the other hand gives away your love of the drink, havingseveral spots of a tangy odour, and the shaking in your limbs. Thegout I surmise from the red swelling around your joints, and thefact that while you should be limber from the drink your limbs arein fact quite stiff. As for your wife, I observed your wedding ringand jacket when you placed the cuffs on me. Your jacket is olderand has been mended many times, but if you were to look close youwill see the older stitching is quite straight and done with asteady hand, while the new is jagged and in several spots has woodshaving, meaning that you placed it on the table as your shakyhands made the work impossible. When you pushed the need throughseveral times you ended up scoring the wood leaving the shavings.If your wife no longer mends your clothing then that leads us toher absences of one fashion or another. If your marriage had souredor if she had left it could be explained. I disposed of thisconclusion when I saw your wedding ring. It is deeply scarred,telling me that you never remove it, speaking of intense feeling.In either of the first two cases the ring would not hold suchvalue, but if your wife had passed it would fit quite nicely. Asfor the time, I estimated the mending to be six months old fromregular wear and recent work.

It seems theinspector has not embellished your abilities. McMurdy said rathersourly. You have your two hours.