expect?’
‘ The Hampton man walked, or rather, hobbled only half the distance through the meads. He was accompanied by Mr Big Boots.’ Holmes pointed to the ground next to him. There in the mud were the clear footprints I had seen already. The ones with the holes at the heels were missing.
‘ He carried him,’ I noted.
‘ That is the only logical explanation. The man could not have flown. Besides, Big Boot’s footprints were significantly deeper as soon as the Hampton man’s footprints disappeared. And here,’ he pointed again, ‘he laid him down.’
There was a faint elongated impression. Its size would fit the Hampton man’s body.
‘ The two must have been friends,’ he stated and seeing my quizzical expression he explained: ‘Big Boots carried him and there are no signs of a fight. This allows us to make an assumption only. But here is the simple proof!’ He pointed to the impression of buttocks right next to the longish shape. ‘The Hampton man died while resting his head in his friend’s lap!’
He contemplated for two seconds, stated that there was nothing more to be learned here, and traced his steps back to the cobblestone road.
We walked to Chertsey without finding either man’s footprints next to the roads. Holmes’s plan was to enquire at the local inn whether anyone had seen the two men.
~~~
We entered a small stone house with “ The Meads’ Inn ” painted in neat red letters over the entrance door. The inn itself consisted of a tiny room with a mawkish interior design. A woman, whom I suspected to be the decorator and the owner’s wife, beckoned us in. Her eyelids and hands were flapping in unison, probably intended to appear inviting.
Holmes steered us towards a table. We ordered stew and beer and as the woman set it down in front of us, Holmes let a sovereign spin on the polished wood.
‘ We are looking for two men who passed through Chertsey Meads the day before yesterday. One was over six feet and eight inches tall, probably supporting the other, who was seriously sick, unusually pale, undernourished, and almost a head smaller than his friend. Both were dressed poorly. Have you seen them by any chance?’
The woman flinched. His demeanour was too policeman-like. She didn’t even look at the money that swirled so promisingly before her eyes.
I threw her an apologetic glance. Holmes hadn’t even introduced us.
‘ My apologies, Mrs, I am Dr Anton Kronberg and this is Mr Sherlock Holmes. We are investigating a crime and would be ever so grateful if you could help us.’
Her expression softened slightly.
‘ Haven’ seen nuffink!’ she said abruptly, turned around, and disappeared into the kitchen.
‘ That went well!’ I mumbled, leaning over my steaming bowl and shovelling stew into my mouth.
Holmes only smiled a little , then turned his attention to his food, and ate it merrily.
‘ How could you know how tall Big Boots was? By the size of his shoes?’ I asked.
‘ And stride length,’ he noted.
‘ Ah! ’ I thought about that for a while and added: ‘You can calculate that even if Big Boots had to support the Hampton man? Wouldn’t his stride be shorter due to the effort?’
Holmes talked to his stew . ‘It would be, but in this case the strain did not appear to be significant. As the Hampton man leaned on Big Boots, the latter did not show a sideways tilt of his heels to counteract the force. And we know the Hampton man was very light. Big Boots’s stride length did not change the least even as he started to carry his friend. All these facts indicate that Big Boots was in rather good health, tall, and strong.’
My brain absorbed the information like a hungry cat the milk.
After we had our beer, he announced loudly that he wanted to take his leave now.
The woman hurried back to us, we paid, and Holmes asked casually: ‘You had a burglary?’
She stopped in her tracks. ‘Why, yes! How did ya know?’
Holmes pointed towards the window. The sash