‘It was Mr Hyde， ’she said later．‘He once visited my master．’
Mr Hyde， the girl said， was carrying a heavy stick． He wasplaying with it impatiently as he listened to the old man． Thensuddenly he seemed to explode with anger．
‘He was like a madman，’the servant girl said．‘ He shookhis stick at the old man，who stepped back in surprise． Thenhe hit the old man violently with the stick and knocked him tothe ground． He beat the helpless body again and again． I couldhear the bones breaking… It was so terrible that I began tofeel ill．Then everything went black and I don't remember anymore．’
It was two o’clock in the morning before she was consciousagain， and able to call the police． The murderer had disappeared，but the dead man was still lying on the ground withthe murder weapon beside him．The stick had broken in themiddle， and one half still lay beside the murdered man． Thepolice decided that the murderer had carried away the otherhalf．A gold watch and a purse were found in the dead man’spockets， but no cards or papers— except a letter addressed toMr Utterson．
A policeman brought this letter to the lawyer the nextmorning．Together they drove to the police station where thebody had been taken．
A police inspector showed him the body．
‘Yes，I recognize him，’said Mr Utterson heavily．‘He isSir Danvers Carew．’
‘Thank you， sir，’said the inspector．‘And do you recognizethis？’ He showed Mr Utterson the broken stick and told himthe servant girl’s story．
Mr Utterson knew the stick at once．‘That’s HenryJekyll’s stick！’he said to himself．‘I gave it to him long ago．’
‘Is this Hyde a short， evil－looking man？’he asked．
‘That’s how the servant girl described him， sir，’agreed theinspector．
‘Come with me，’said Mr Utterson to the inspector．‘Ithink I know where he lives．’
Mr Utterson led him to the address on Mr Hyde’ s visitingcard．It was in a poor part of London，in a dirty street full ofcheap bars and eating－houses． This was the home of HenryJekyll’s favourite friend—the man who would inherit Jekyll’squarter of a million pounds．
An old servant opened the door．Under her silvery hair wasa smooth face with a false smile and evil eyes， but she was polite enough．
‘Yes，’she said，‘Mr Hyde lives here．But he’s not athome． My master came in very late last night．He left againafter only an hour．’
‘Was that unusual？’asked the inspector．
‘Not at all，’replied the servant．‘He’s often away，andfrequently stays away for months at a time．’
‘We would like to see his flat，’said Mr Utterson．
‘Oh，I can't do that，sir—’began the servant．
‘This gentleman is a police inspector，’said Mr Utterson．
‘Ah！’ said the servant，looking unnaturally pleased aboutit，‘ Mr Hyde’s in trouble！What’s he done？’
Mr Utterson and the inspector looked at each other．‘Hedoesn't seem a very popular person，’said the inspector．Heturned to the servant．‘Now please let us in and we'll have alook around．’
Mr Hyde had only two rooms in the house．These were extremely comfortable and in excellent taste，with beautiful pictures on the walls and rich carpets on the floor．Everythingwas wildly untidy，however，and the fireplace was full of halfburnt papers． Among these the detective found part of acheque book．He also found the other half of the murderweapon．
‘Excellent！’he said．‘Now let’s visit the bank and see ifthey recognize this cheque book．’
Sure enough， the bank held several thousand pounds in anaccount in the name of Edward Hyde．
‘We've got him now， sir，’said the inspector．‘We've gotthe murder weapon，and we've got his cheque book． Now weonly need his description on the“Wanted”notices．’
This was not so easy． There were no photographs of thewanted man and no two people could agree about his appearance．They all agreed on one thing， however．‘An evil man，sir，’the servant girl said．‘You could see it in his face．’
3 卡鲁命案
差不多一年以后，一天晚上在伦敦，一个女仆坐在她卧室的窗台边，看着洒满月光的街道。这时，她看到一位满头白发、个子高高、面容矍铄的老人沿着马路走过来，迎着他走过来的是一个身材矮小、年纪稍轻的人。老人彬彬有礼地和那人说着话，据女仆后来讲，他好像在问路，然后女仆又转眼看了看那个年轻人，认出了他。
“是海德先生，”女仆后来讲，“他到主人家来拜访过一次。”
那姑娘说，海德先生手里拿着一根沉甸甸的手杖，一边很不耐烦地把玩着，一边听着老人的话。突然间，他的怒气一下子爆发了。
“他好像疯了一样，”女仆回忆道，“冲老先生挥着手杖，老先生往后一缩，非常惊讶，接着他抄起手杖，举起来就打，把老先生打倒在地。他拼命用手杖狠揍无助的老人，我都听见了骨头碎裂的声音……这太可怕了，我觉得一阵难受，眼前一片漆黑，就什么也不知道了。”
等她苏醒过来，已是凌晨2点了，她去报了警，凶手早已逃之夭夭。尸体还躺在地上，旁边就是凶器。手杖从中间断开了，一半滚落在尸体旁边，另一半警察断定是凶手拿走了。在死者衣袋里发现了一块金表和一个钱包，但没有名片或任何纸张，只有一封信，上面写的是厄特森先生的地址和姓名。
警察第二天一早就把信交给了律师，他们一起赶到警察局，尸体还在那儿停放着。
警长带他看了尸体。
“不错，我认识他，”厄特森先生心情沉重地说，“他是丹佛斯·卡鲁爵士。”
“谢谢您，先生，”警长说，“您也认识这个吗？”说着他拿出折断的手杖让厄特森先生看，又给他讲了女仆看到的情况。
厄特森先生一下认出了手杖，“是亨利·杰基尔的手杖！”他自言自语地说，“是我老早以前送给他的。”
他问：“这个海德先生是不是个相貌凶狠的小矮个？”
“女仆是这么说的，先生，”警长附和道。
“跟我来，”厄特森先生对警长说，“我想我知道他住在哪儿。”
厄特森先生把他带到海德先生名片上的地址，在伦敦的贫民区，在一条到处是低级酒馆和饭馆的街上，这就是亨利·杰基尔心爱的朋友的家，而且他还要继承杰基尔的25万英镑！
一个老女仆开了门，满头白发下面是一张光滑的脸，带着虚饰的微笑和不怀好意的眼神，但不管怎么说，她还算客气。
“是啊，”她说，“海德先生是住在这儿，可这会儿他不在家。昨晚主人很晚才回来，可不到一个小时就又走了。”
“这样的事很少发生，是吗？”警长问。
“才不呢！”仆人答道，“他经常出去，一走就是好几个月。”
“我们想看看他的房间，”厄特森先生说。
“哦！那可不行，先生——”女仆说。
“这位先生可是警察局的警长，”厄特森先生说。
“啊！”女仆叫了一声，看起来不同寻常地高兴，“海德先生出麻烦了！他干了什么？”
厄特森先生和警长彼此看了看。“海德不太得人心啊！”警长说，接着又对女仆说：“那么请允许我们进去看一看。”
在这幢房子里，海德只用了两个房间，都布置得十分舒适，品味高雅，墙上挂着漂亮的画，地上铺着厚厚的地毯。但屋里却满地狼藉，壁炉里都是快烧尽的纸片，在这个纸片堆里，警长发现了支票簿的一部分，还找到了另一半凶器。
“太好了！”他说，“现在就去银行，看他们能不能认出这个支票簿来。”
确实，银行的一个户头上以爱德华·海德的名字存了几千英镑。
“先生，他已经在我们手心里了，”警长说，“有凶器，有支票簿，现在只要在‘通缉令’上描述清楚他的相貌特征就行了。”
这可不那么容易。没有通缉犯的照片，能描述他外貌的人，说法又都不一样。只有一点大家都同意，那就是，像女仆所说的：“他是个邪恶的人，从他的脸上一下子就能看出来。”
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