The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde Read Online Free PDF Page A

had
better tell you who this person is," he added. "This is Inspector
Newcomen of Scotland Yard."
    A flash of odious joy appeared upon the woman's face. "Ah!"
said she, "he is in trouble! What has he done?"
    Mr. Utterson and the inspector exchanged glances. "He don't
seem a very popular character," observed the latter. "And now, my
good woman, just let me and this gentleman have a look about us."
    In the whole extent of the house, which but for the old woman
remained otherwise empty, Mr. Hyde had only used a couple of
rooms; but these were furnished with luxury and good taste. A
closet was filled with wine; the plate was of silver, the napery
elegant; a good picture hung upon the walls, a gift (as Utterson
supposed) from Henry Jekyll, who was much of a connoisseur; and
the carpets were of many plies and agreeable in colour. At this
moment, however, the rooms bore every mark of having been recently
and hurriedly ransacked; clothes lay about the floor, with their
pockets inside out; lock-fast drawers stood open; and on the
hearth there lay a pile of grey ashes, as though many papers had
been burned. From these embers the inspector disinterred the butt
end of a green cheque book, which had resisted the action of the
fire; the other half of the stick was found behind the door; and
as this clinched his suspicions, the officer declared himself
delighted. A visit to the bank, where several thousand pounds
were found to be lying to the murderer's credit, completed his
gratification.
    "You may depend upon it, sir," he told Mr. Utterson: "I have
him in my hand. He must have lost his head, or he never would
have left the stick or, above all, burned the cheque book. Why,
money's life to the man. We have nothing to do but wait for him
at the bank, and get out the handbills."
    This last, however, was not so easy of accomplishment; for Mr.
Hyde had numbered few familiars—even the master of the servant
maid had only seen him twice; his family could nowhere be traced;
he had never been photographed; and the few who could describe him
differed widely, as common observers will. Only on one point were
they agreed; and that was the haunting sense of unexpressed
deformity with which the fugitive impressed his beholders.

Incident of the Letter
*
    It was late in the afternoon, when Mr. Utterson found his way to
Dr. Jekyll's door, where he was at once admitted by Poole, and
carried down by the kitchen offices and across a yard which had
once been a garden, to the building which was indifferently known
as the laboratory or dissecting rooms. The doctor had bought the
house from the heirs of a celebrated surgeon; and his own tastes
being rather chemical than anatomical, had changed the destination
of the block at the bottom of the garden. It was the first time
that the lawyer had been received in that part of his friend's
quarters; and he eyed the dingy, windowless structure with
curiosity, and gazed round with a distasteful sense of strangeness
as he crossed the theatre, once crowded with eager students and
now lying gaunt and silent, the tables laden with chemical
apparatus, the floor strewn with crates and littered with packing
straw, and the light falling dimly through the foggy cupola. At
the further end, a flight of stairs mounted to a door covered with
red baize; and through this, Mr. Utterson was at last received
into the doctor's cabinet. It was a large room fitted round with
glass presses, furnished, among other things, with a cheval-glass
and a business table, and looking out upon the court by three
dusty windows barred with iron. The fire burned in the grate; a
lamp was set lighted on the chimney shelf, for even in the houses
the fog began to lie thickly; and there, close up to the warmth,
sat Dr. Jekyll, looking deathly sick. He did not rise to meet his
visitor, but held out a cold hand and bade him welcome in a
changed voice.
    "And now," said Mr. Utterson, as soon as Poole had left them,
"you have heard the news?"
    The doctor shuddered.