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Both the residents of St. Aubrey
regarded the great
detective
with amazement and, despite our long association, I did as well.

"How did you know that, Mr.
Holmes?" stammered
Constable
Dankers.

"You both told me," was
the reply.

Our meal arrived at this moment
and while it was
being
served, Holmes pressed the constable to join us.
After
a moment, Dankers admitted he might try some
"bangers
and mash."

"You see," Holmes
continued, "you established that
Mr.
Gridley was loath to part with com of the realm
and
yet he contracted to have his cottage painted, a job
certainly
not beyond his own abilities. When the
painter,
Mr. Morris, walked off the job, an argumenta
tive
soul like the deceased would surely have completed
it,
if capable. What made him incapable? A fear of
heights."

Dankers and Witherspoon were
regarding Holmes
with
admiration,

"Well, sir," said the
constable, after a moment,
"when
you explain it, the matter does seem obvious."

"And leads us to another
obvious thought. If Amos Gridley had acrophobia, what was he doing on
the porch roof?"

As the constable's veal sausage
dish arrived with another bottle of Guinness, Bankers shot a
worried glance
at
the medical examiner.

Witherspoon picked up the
conversational ball. "An
acute
observation. However, Amos's nephew did prove
that
his uncle had sought medical aid for his phobia at
one
time, and to no avail," he added, as an after
thought.

"Lothar Gridley would want to
scotch any thoughts
of
suicide since that verdict would have removed any necessity of the
insurance company making payment,"
said
Holmes.

"And he would have been out
five hundred pounds,"
commented
Constable Bankers. "But his information
was
correct for we checked it out."

My friend's eyes were dancing.
"Here we have a type
of
oddment which frequently proves so fascinating. A
man
with a morbid fear of heights who seeingly goes onto a roof of his
own volition. There was a ladder, I
assume?"

A faint sheen of perspiration was
evident on Con
stable
Dankers's brow. "Actually, no."

At this point, my own curiosity
knew no bounds. "Good heavens!" I exclaimed. "The man
did not fly
there!"

Holmes speared me with a frigid
glance, but Dankers patiently explained. "The roofed porch is
but one story,
Dr.
Watson, where the cottage is two. There's a dormer
window
opening directly on the slanting roof of the
porch."

Witherspoon interrupted with some
excitement. "A
fact
which might explain an apparent contradiction.
Most
sufferers of acrophobia fear open heights. I mean
to
say that Amos Gridley climbed to his second-story
bedroom
for years with no fear at all. Possibly he
opened
the window and, still in contact with the main
house
which lent him a sense of security, stepped out on
the
porch roof to check its condition. I do know that he
contended
that the painter, Morris, had tramped over
his
shingles in such a fashion as to cause leaks. In any
case,
possibly his fear of heights caught up with him or
perhaps
his foot just slipped and he slid to his death."

Holmes closed his eyes for a
moment of reflection.
When
they flashed open in but a moment, he seemed
disposed
to accept Witherspoon's pat explanation.

"In any case, Doctor Watson
and I shall have to take
a
look at the premises," he said, casually. "Do have an
other
Guinness, Constable," he added, signaling the
waiter.

"Don't mind if I do,"
replied Dankers, promply. He drained his glass and wiped his
moustache carefully.
There
was a shrewd look in his eyes.

"Pardon my asking, Mr.
Holmes. Truly, no death is a small matter, but what be there about
the Gridley matter that brings you from London?" Again, the
constable shot a quick look at Witherspoon. "Would you be
representing the insurance company, perhaps?"

The waiter arrived at this moment
and Holmes or
dered
a refill all round along with a tot of brandy for
himself.
"As Watson can attest," he said, somewhat air
ily,
"I have an overdeveloped interest in those matters
that
present interesting angles. So frequently it is the
less
celebrated affairs which provide fascinating sidelights to the
true devotee of ratiocination."

And that, I thought to myself, is
as elaborate a way
of
admitting to nothing as I have ever heard! There was
some
doubt in my mind that the constable or medical
examiner
were hookwinked by Holmes's flow of words,
though
they had the good grace not to exchange a tell
ing
glance or elevate their eyebrows in disbelief. To my
surprise,
Witherspoon seemed to fall in with the idea.

"Since a visit to the scene
of the crime does seem in
order,
let me run you over to Gridley's cottage. 'Tis no
more
than the further side of the valley and my carriage
will
get us there in short order."

Holmes was happy to accept Doctor
Witherspoon's
offer
and soon thereafter we bid Constable Dankers fare
well
and were headed for the outskirts of St. Aubrey.

11

The Famous Chair Fighter
of
the Andaman Islands

105

It was a pleasant afternoon and
Witherspoon's horse
set
a good pace with no urging. For several miles the
road
was level, though winding, with low hills on either
side.

We began to progress upward toward
the end of the valley and our speed diminished. To our right was a
low-hanging building
with a sod roof that displayed a ramshackle sign announcing
THE HAVEN
.
Witherspoon indicated it with a gesture of his hand and a grimace of
displeasure.

"The local den of iniquity.
It does have the good
grace
of being removed from St. Aubrey. Bit of hard
drinking
goes on there. Constable Dankers keeps an eye
on
the place just as a matter of procedure."

The Haven, being on the crest of a
small hill, we
swept
down a gentle incline and Witherspoon negotiated
a
right-hand turn onto a narrow lane, which brought us, in short order,
to a small cottage but recently repainted.
The
building was two stories' high and of Queen Anne design, being
flanked by a porch of modest proportions that was roofed as we had
been led to expect.

Having piled out of the carriage,
Witherspoon indi
cated
the porch. " 'Twas from there that Gridley fell." He
crossed to indicate an area under the eaves. "The
body
was found right here."

Holmes surveyed the ground with no
more than a
cursory
glance. Because of the passage of time, there
were
no revealing clues to engage his attention. Rather, he moved back
from the dwelling to survey the slanted porch roof, which formed an
angle with the side of the
main
building. The dormer window was of fair size and
I
could readily see that, in addition to providing ventilation and
light, it could also be a means of access to the
porch
roof.

Holmes was studying the dormer
with interest.
"Locked,
I judge," he said, almost of himself.

"The house has been sealed
until the matter of the
estate
is settled," explained Witherspoon. "There's also the
question of the crown tax," he added.

Holmes's quick steps took him to
where he could
view
a side of the house. "I wonder if there might be a
ladder
around?" he asked.

"Don't know as Amos had one.
His little tool shed is
locked,
though we could get Dankers to open it and the
house
as well."

Holmes responded to Witherspoon's
suggestion with
a
negative gesture, crossing to a barrel placed under a
downspout
leading from the wooden rain gutter beneath
the
eaves.

"This might serve the
purpose, gentlemen. Empty, I
note.
Lend me a hand, if you will."

It took but a moment for the three
of us to upend the barrel, obviously used to collect rainwater, and
position
it at a
corner of the porch. Holmes surveyed it with sat
isfaction.

"This should serve my purpose
admirably and permit
a
closer look at the shingle roof, which proved fatal to its owner.
Watson, good chap, if you would hold the barrel and stabilize it,
possibly I can, with the aid of
Doctor
Witherspoon, boost myself up on it and scram
ble
onto the porch roof."

Witherspoon promptly gave him a
leg up and, standing on the barrel, Holmes quickly secured a
firm handhold and raised his lean and wiry form up to the porch
roof. Walking with some care, he made his way to the dormer window,
which he subjected to a close scrutiny.

Both Witherspoon and I had stepped
back from the
house
to view his actions and, after exposing the win
dow
to the revealing lens of his ever-present pocket glass, Holmes began
to walk down the incline of the porch preparatory to descending and
rejoining us. Something caught his eye and he regarded a wooded
area
close to the cottage for a moment.

"I say," he stated,
casually, "it would seem our activities are of interest to
someone else."

Witherspoon and I spun around to
look in the direc
tion
indicated by his gaze. "I see no one," said the med
ical
examiner.

"He's dodged behind some
foliage. Black-haired
chap.
Quite large. From the coppery color of his skin,
I'd
judge him to be a seaman."

"Lothar, without a doubt,"
stated Witherspoon.
"Strange
his being secretive, but no loss to us." As
Holmes
scrambled down from the roof, the medical ex
aminer
adopted a confidential tone. "Frankly, gentle
men,
though his uncle thought highly of him, Lothar is
not
one whose company you would welcome. Like
many
who go down to the sea in ships, he displays an
alarming
thirst when on land and I do not mean for
water."