310 lines
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Plaintext
310 lines
16 KiB
Plaintext
ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜ
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛßÛßßßßßÛÛÜ ÜÜßßßßÜÜÜÜ ÜÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÛßß ßÛÛ
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ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßÛÛ ÜÛÛÛÜÛÛÜÜÜ ßÛÛÛÛÜ ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÛÛÜÜÜÛÛÝ Ûß
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ßßßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÞÝ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛßßÛÜÞÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßßÛÛÛÞß
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Mo.iMP ÜÛÛÜ ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÞÛÛÛÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÝ ßÛß
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛ
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ß ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛ
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ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß
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ÜÛßÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÜÜ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÛÛÞÛÛÛÛÛÝ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛßß
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ÜÛßÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÛÛÛÛÜÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ÞÛ ßÛÛÛÛÛ Ü ÛÝÛÛÛÛÛ Ü
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ÜÛ ÞÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛ ßÛÜ ßÛÛÛÜÜ ÜÜÛÛÛß ÞÛ ÞÛÛÛÝ ÜÜÛÛ
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ÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßÛÜ ßßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ÜÜÜß ÛÛÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÛÛÛÛÛß
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ßÛÜ ÜÛÛÛß ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ßßÜÜ ßßÜÛÛßß ßÛÛÜ ßßßÛßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛßß
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ßßßßß ßßÛÛß ßßßßß ßßßßßßßßßßßßß
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ARRoGANT CoURiERS WiTH ESSaYS
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Grade Level: Type of Work Subject/Topic is on:
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[ ]6-8 [ ]Class Notes [Creative Sherlock Holmes]
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[x]9-10 [ ]Cliff Notes [story. ]
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[ ]11-12 [ ]Essay/Report [ ]
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[ ]College [x]Misc [ ]
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Dizzed: 07/94 # of Words:2,600 School: co-ed public State: NY
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ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>Chop Here>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ>ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
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The Murderous Miracle
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A
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Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Style
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Mini-Mystery
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I awakened from my morning slumber and groggily entered the foyer
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to find Holmes sitting in his chair in a speculative pose while
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thoughtfully smoking on one of his many pipes.
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"Good Morning Holmes!, " I said in one of my Cheeriest tones, which
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wasn't very impressive, due to the fact I am not a morning person "And what
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wakes you up so early this fine morning?"
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"Early?" Holmes replied "Why it's nearly noontime, it's you who have
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been sleeping in! And making an awful racket with that dreadful snoring of
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yours!"
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I was struck by a paroxysm of coughing as Holmes' smoke entered my
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lungs, "Noontime? Nonsense, That pipe must be doing more damage than I
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thought! It is a tad early for that kind of thing anyway!" said I, a bit
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less cheerier than before due to Holmes' mindless banter.
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He only smiled and said "See for yourself,my good man, look through
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the window onto the common, and tell me what you see..."
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I did as he told, clearing my eyes, and to my shock I saw the
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townspeople all about in their daily hustle and bustle which was common to
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northern London preceding teatime.
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"Well, it appears you are right! People are at work, conducting their
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business and the like. I'm awfully sorry, I'm just rather irritable in the
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morning."
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"Quite alright my friend, it's understandable, tell me, what else do
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you see at the window?" Holmes calmly stated.
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"Well, Nothing out of the ordinary, as I said before, just..wait!
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There is a crowd of people around a car right next to our doorstep!" I
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exclaimed.
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" Is the man a shady character with a dark beard and an umbrella on
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his shoulder?" Holmes asked.
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"Why Yes! That describes him perfectly! Who is he and how do you know
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him?" I asked.
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"Well,that happens to be Sir Reginald Chaucer of Pottingshire, and
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also one of the most wealthy men in all of England." said he.
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"So? What importance is he to us? And why does he happen to be on our
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doorstep?" I voiced.
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"He happens to be suspected of the murder of one Friedrich Nietzche
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because of financial reasons, and is presumably our newest client."
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Sir Chaucer was a very strange man, very eccentric, those were the
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first two thoughts to enter my mind, even as he was climbing the stairs to
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the designated "meeting room". I thought this, not because he was rich, for
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I do not like to stereotype a man that way, but as he progressed up the
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stairs occasionally he would pause, mutter something to himself, and go on.
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Those were not the doings of a sane man. But for every bit that he was
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strange, I was ten times more intrigued by this man, and in wondering why
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he was here had piqued my curiosity to the highest mark. But as he came
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through the door I tried my best to disguise the inquisitive look upon my
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countenance and took a seat.
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"Welcome!" my friend called "I assume that you are Sir Reginald
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Chaucer of Pottingshire?"
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"Of course I am! Who else would I be? I do hope I haven't come to a
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drunken sod and not an private detective. At any rate, I don't want to
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speak here at all, it's too much peasantry for my taste, and I fear I could
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not stay here long without quickly becoming nauseous."
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Sir Reginald, who obviously had no need for formal introductions,
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replied. "Therefore," he continued, cutting off a reply from Holmes "you
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will come with me to my estate in Pottingshire whether or whether not it
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pleases you to do so."
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"But, kind Sir," I interjected "Most of our best work is conceived
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right here, and you might be interrupting the detective process!"
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"I did not pay you for your own comfort, but for mine! And if you are
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the sort of detectives who rely on a certain room for your brain power, I
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think I'll be looking somewhere else!" Sir Reginald complained.
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"Don't worry good man," my friend said "It's just that Dr. Watson here
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is a bit bold for his own good, and I can assure you that such extensive
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methods need not be taken," And as he saw the look of astonishment on my
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face he cast a discreet wink my way. "If only," Holmes continued "You would
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give my friend a few moments to freshen up and get into some proper
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clothes."
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"Of course!", Sir Reginald continued, "Do you think I would lower my
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reputation by riding around with a ruffian? But I'll be waiting in the car,
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I can't stand to be in this smokepit that you call a home any longer."
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And with that, our strange client abruptly turned and made his way
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down the stairs, pausing only to look in the air and mutter something about
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the condition of his lungs, and wondering aloud which was worse, the smog
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outside or inside.
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"Holmes, My good friend!" I stated as soon as I was sure our client was
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gone, "Where did you find such an impossibly rude, obnoxious,
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insufferable,and unbearable patron? I mean seriously ol' chap? Can an
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individual possibly be more intolerable than that?" I asked.
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"I'm not quite sure my friend Watson" Holmes said "But I fear we'll
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find out if we aren't dashing to his car in the wink of an eye!" He added
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with a smile.
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Sir Reginald's house was more grand than anything I'd ever imagined,
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but it did not have a comfortable, lived-in environment. It was as if no
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one had ever lived there and never should, it was a cold, barren place, and
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seemed more a museum than a place where human beings lived.
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We were quickly hushed into the main living where both Holmes and I
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took a seat and Reginald began his tale..
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"There is no archaic background, and no asinine fairy-tale to go along
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with this incident gentlemen. One of my more prestigious competitors who
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would never enter my house had it not been for the extensive work he has
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done on my brother, has been murdered, and there is no trace of the
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murderer elsewhere, so he must be in this house!!" said the aggravated
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Reginald.
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"Well," Holmes asked "If the culprit is indeed stalking among the
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corridors of this very house why have you not called the police?"
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"I did you dolt! And they came,and they took the body, but could find
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no sign of the murderer and are searching elsewhere, but I know myself that
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the culprit could not have left!" Reginald screeched irately.
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"Well, How can you be so sure? Could you tell us more about this
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terrible incident? Please try to be as specific as possible." Holmes calmly
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stated, not deterred in the slightest by the old man's insolence.
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"Well, it's a very simple and rudimentary story my friend, My rival
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Doctor Fredrich Nietzche ,now deceased, was headed up towards the library
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to investigate some latin history or some such nonsense, then I heard only
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a blood curdling wail and made my way with all haste to the library!" Our
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client said gruffly.
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Inwardly I smiled as I imagined the patriarchal man running up the
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stairs, but stopped my train of thought as I realized I was reaping
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enjoyment from another man's demise.
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"Ah, I see," Holmes said "Well who else was here besides yourself?
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Could the culprit be one of your staff perhaps?"
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"Impossible, the Staff was gone for the day, and the only other people
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here were my brother Douglas Arganth Chaucer, and myself." he said.
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"Well, if it wasn't you, and no one else was here, it had to be your
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brother Douglas!" I concluded, inwardly gratified at my own simple
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solution.
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"Yes, but you forget a simple fact you thick-headed simpleton! My
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brother is also crippled and incapable of crawling, much less dashing up
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the stairs, And has been that way since he was 9 and stricken with complete
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paralyzation, it is a wonder that he wasn't bed-ridden for the rest of his
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life! Furthermore, he owed his ability to operate the upper-half of his
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body solely to Doctor Nietzche! For it was he who helped him through
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rehabilitation! I reached the bottom of the stairs before the murderer
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could have possibly come down, and there is no other exit from the
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library." he continued.
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"Alas, we are truly sorry for your brothers condition," Holmes added,
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"But since we can easily dismiss him from being the culprit, we should
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continue on a different note, may we see the crime area?"
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"Be my guests, the police have searched it several times already
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though." Reginald said, and led us into the library.
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In the library was stacked wall to wall and ceiling to ceiling with
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books of all kinds, literature, history, philosophy, anything the mind
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could think of. My stomach slightly turned as I saw bloodstains in the
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carpet, but no other sign of the murder was visible.
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"This," Reginald Said "Is where the murder took place, I have some
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other business in town to attend to, so you may search to your hearts
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delight and perhaps make some sense of this inanity! And don't touch
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anything valuable! " with that he turned and left downstairs to attend to
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whatever mindless business he had.
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"So what do you think Dr. Watson? Do I perhaps see a smile on your
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face because you have already discovered the culprit of this crime?" Holmes
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said.
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"Well, if what he says is true to some extent. The murderer never
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left, or it's Sir Reginald eliminating one of his competitors, I truly
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cannot see his crippled brother pulling himself up the stairs and killing
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Nietzche and then going back down before Sir Reginald reached here!" I
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inferred. I turned,expecting to see the shock on Holmes' face at my own
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ability of decoding the mystery.
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But instead, I saw his smile, and knew at once that my answer was
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false.
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"I'm sorry, my good friend, but you are wrong, I investigated the
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blood stains, and it appears that written in his own blood was a latin
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symbol 'á', so I don't believe it is that simple, I am hoping that in your
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work in the medical profession that you have come across the meaning of
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that particular symbol?" Holmes asked
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"Of course! It is a Latin word meaning Beta, and isn't Sir Reginalds
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company called Beta-Investments? I'll go talk to Douglas,about Sir
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Reginald's relationship with the Doctor.
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"Ah, the Latin word 'Beta', how interesting, thank you my dear friend,
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as usual, you have proved yourself invaluable to our noble cause. I will
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remain here and further investigate the room, to ensure that everything
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that could possibly be found was." Holmes said.
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I raced downstairs, thinking to be on the right track with Reginald, but
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Douglas' room was unoccupied, And there was hardly a sign of the man ever
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being there. As I turned to tell return to the library and tell Holmes of
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my discovery, I was knocked unconcious from behind.
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I awakened in a small cellar with a small bruise on my head which would
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definitely smart later. As I remembered what had just transpired, I quickly
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looked around for a sign of the scoundrel but saw nothing. I needed not to
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check the door to know that it was locked. I sat down to contemplate my
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current situation but got no further than being utterly helpless before the
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doorknob started to turn. I tried to compose myself as best as I could to
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attack, but I am not the most belligerent of people. The door slowly
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opened, but behind the door, to my surprise, was not a devilous rogue or
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some sort of murderous swine, but my good friend Sherlock Holmes!
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"It's good to see that you're here, I'm sorry that I couldn't have
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helped you earlier, but I only just found out about this luxurious abode of
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yours. And then of course I had to help chase Douglas across the lawn."
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Holmes said, without batting an eye.
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"What? But Douglas is crippled, Sir Reginald said so himself! And in
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fact, I was on my way to go talk to him.." My words trailed off as I
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realized what must have happened....
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"You are right in one respect, Douglas WAS crippled, but that was
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until the recently deceased Doctor Nietzche healed him. It was nothing
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short of a miracle, but even miracles have their price. Nietzche was
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charging Douglas a small fortune which Douglas could not afford, so Douglas
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was forced to plot less than honorable means of gaining the money." Holmes
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stated.
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"Such as killing his brother! He knew his brother was rich, and that he
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would get the money, and no one would ever suspect a crippled man. But,
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something doesnt make sense, I mean, after Douglas was cured, how could
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Nietzche charge him?"
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"Well, there were contracts and such, but I doubt even that would mean
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too much to a man who had only recently regained the ability to walk. I
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suppose fear of whatever could be done, could be undone was enough
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motivation to get Douglas worried." Holmes concluded.
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"Ok, that makes sense I suppose, but how could you possibly know it
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was Chaucer? And where he was hiding me?" I asked, still slightly puzzled
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by Holmes' appearance.
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"Well, as you were saying, the symbol "á" was a Latin symbol meaning
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before, well, Our friend the Doctor was also looking up some Latin history
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according to Sir Reginald if you recall. Using those two facts, I simply
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searched the library for a Latin book, and found a dictionary, and between
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the pages with the definition for beta, was a full diary written by Dr.
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Fredrich Nietzche.
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The diary Encluding everything from Douglas' remarkable recovery, to
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Douglas' plot to kill his brother. With that knowledge I was alarmed to
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think that I had sent you into a perilous position.
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Nietzche had apparently found a diary of Douglas' which had details of
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his plan, and threatened to release them to Sir Reginald Chaucer unless he
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was given triple his salary. Douglas had planned to kill his brother and
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stow the body in here, hoping that perhaps one of the staff would be
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accused of commiting the crime. For it is public knowledge that he was not
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fond of his staff. I was only guessing when I supposed he would leave you
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here." Holmes concluded.
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"Ah, so it was a plot, within a plot, within a plot!" I stated,
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pleased with my witticism.
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"Hmm," Holmes paused thoughtfully "Not really, Not at all, come now,
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let us go back to our flat, it appears you need some more sleep if you are
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making feeble jokes such as that one." He laughed, and I laughed along with
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him, for we had just solved the case, of the Murderous Miracle.
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