The reason behind the placing of the victims had been solved, now I had to discover who was behind it all. After sitting at Baker Street for hours, sitting on a cushion, staring out the window, the rain pouring down outside and sliding down the window, and smoking my pipe. As the smoke of the slide out of my mouth and floated around, I was trying to place it all together, figure out something that could lead me to the killer. I remembered the anxious and uncomfortable looks and motions of Henry on his last visit, and with nothing else coming to my mind, I decided I would pay him a visit. It was quite late at night, but I knew Henry would be awake; he tended to stay up late into the night reading a novel or book on one subject or another. Dr. Watson would have been sound asleep by now, and not wanting to wake him, I got up my from my cushion, put on my coat and hat and walked out into the rain, still smoking my pipe.
Arriving at Henry’s house, I saw that it was completely dark inside, as if no one was home. I found this quite odd. Henry was always up reading usually; he did not have any other friends and never had any social outings to attend. Henry’s house was just a short walk from my own Baker Street. It was a large, lowed-roofed structure, white in colour. I approached the front door, which was also a large structure and white in colour, and gave it a loud knock. After waiting a few moments no one answered the door, neither did I hear any sound of footsteps approaching the door. I knocked again and waited a few more moments but once again nothing occurred and I heard nothing from within the house. I was contemplating leaving and trying to contact Henry another night when I noticed a slight break in between the door and the frame, it would seem the door was unlocked and slightly ajar. Carefully pushing the door I noticed it moved freely, and I decided to enter the estate, I was feeling a little concerned for Henry at this point, with no lights on in his house, it seeming he was not home, and yet his door being opened was quite peculiar behaviour and activity for Henry. I opened the door and went inside the house. Inside, the house was quite large and spacious, yet had a warm air to it, emitted from the currently alight open fire. I closed the front door behind me and stood, looking around. Apart from the glow of the fireplace illuminating sections of floor in front of it, there was no other light on, and the house was in complete darkness. Amongst the faint glow, I thought I could see some odd engravings on the floor near the fireplace. I approached the fireplace and knelt down to examine the ground. These weren’t engravings, but in fact scratches. They reminded me a lot of the ones I had seen at the crime scenes of both girls. Unsure of what to make of this, I got up and found other light sources, turning on various lamps that were within this room. Once they were all on I looked around and was shocked by the scene I saw in front of me. On the white walls around me, the scratches continued to appear. Some longer than others, some deeper than others, but they all resembled those found at the previous crime scenes. The site disturbed me a little, and I began to wonder why Henry would have such a state in his house, rather than if he was okay, though I was worried for him. I traced the path of scratches, noticing they went into every other room connected to this entrance one. I followed one path, which lead me through a door that was connected to the grand sitting room. This room was quite large to, yet still smaller in scale to the entrance hall I had just been in. There was a fireplace in this room also, though it was not lit, and a number of book cases, lining the walls, filled to their top shelves with books, not a surprising sight for a house belonging to Henry. As I examined the bookcases and some of the titles that lined their shelves, I noticed that one of the bookcases, the smallest of them all, closest to the right hand side of the fireplace, was not completely lined up with the wall, but was slightly a jar from the wall. I found this odd and so walked over to investigate. Looking behind the bookcase I noticed a small door, which was the same pattern as the wall paper, as if trying to blend in and be unnoticed. I slide my finger around the edges of the framework of the door, and then, holding on the small and almost unnoticeable doorknob, lowly and carefully attempted to push the door open. It opened with little resistance, and not one sound. It was pitch black within the room and I could barely see a thing. Light infiltrating from the sitting room showed me there were a set of stairs connected to the doorway. I decided to proceed down the stairs, though did so slowly and carefully due to lack of sight. Reaching the bottom of the stairs I was in complete and utter darkness. I felt around on the walls for some source of light. After not finding anything for a few moments I tried raising my hands in the air, hoping to find a light blub to activate. I did, and pulled the string, with a flicker of light eventually turning into a glow of light that lit the entire room. Before me was a scene of a run down lab. This room looked like it had no connection to the elegant and white rooms of the house above. This room was quite small in size, with walls that were beginning to peel and turn a brown colour. For a small room it sure did fit a lot of equipment, among the array of pieces of paper and books, were various chemistry set ups, looking as if they had been used recently, with residue still visible within them. I could only assume this room belonged to and was used by Henry, but I wondered why. I knew he was interested in the way things worked and chemistry formulas, but I had never known him to be a practical man. Looking around at the extreme disorganization of the room, I noticed a line of small bottles on a shelf just to the right of me. There was about six of them, all in a neat line, the neatness of them making them quite noticeable among the disarray of the rest of the room. I walked up to them, and bending down slightly, examined their contents more closely. It was bright blue liquid contents. I picked up one of the bottles carefully, spinning it around and tipping it upside, the liquid seemed free from any solids. I placed this bottle in one of my coat pockets and shuffled the rest of the bottles along the shelf to make it less noticeable that one had gone missing. Though I was tempted to examine the rest of the room I felt it was time I left. I noticed another door at the other end of the room and decided I would quickly see where that led before I left.
Walking to the door and opening it, I put my head outside and noticed that it led outside, to an extreme narrow laneway, one that looked as if it was in complete poverty. It reminded quite a lot of the crime scenes I had recently visited. Stepping outside I turned around and looked back at the building I had just exited. I thought it would be odd for no one to notice that such a small room was attached to such a large and spacious house, one that was quite the opposite of the scene I was now standing it. But as I looked at the building I had just come from, somehow, the building it was secretly attached to was unable to be seen from this laneway. Impressed, I reentered the small lab and closed the door. I walked back up the staircase and back into the large sitting room, closing the secret door. Looking around at the sitting room and listening door any other noises, I concluded that Henry had not yet returned from wherever he was.
The next morning at Baker Street, when Watson walked into the sitting room, he found me examining the small bottle I had acquired from Henry’s house the previous night.
“What is that you have Holmes?” asked Watson as he sat down in a lounge chair just across from myself.
“Henry’s house” I simply replied.
“Henry’s house? I don’t remember you mentioning you were going to visit him?”
“No, you wouldn’t Watson. I went late last night, you were asleep, didn’t want to wake you.”
“What business did you have at Henry’s at such a time last night?”
“I was going to inquire further about the piece of silk he seemed so familiar with last time and tell him me about the case to see if he knew anything, but when I arrived I found he wasn’t home. I entered his home and after some investigating I came across this bottle, well a few of them actually. I just had to bring one home to examine”.
“You broke in to Henry’s house Holmes!”
“I didn’t exactly break in. The door was unlocked when I arrived, so I went in. It was completely dark, except the fire was still alight, so I assume whenever Henry had gone, he had left not long ago. When I found a light, the walls were covered in scratches, just like the ones we found at the crime scene.”
“Oh no, poor Henry.”
“I investigated further and found a secret door in his sitting room. After opening it and entering the room I found a small lab, which is where I acquired this bottle I currently hold.”
“Holmes, what about Henry? He could be dead!”
“Don’t worry yourself Watson, I’ll go visit Henry again tomorrow, and then we shall see whether worry is necessary”.
Another day and night passed, with Watson still extremely worried about Henry and what could have become of him. Eventually the night came when we went to visit Henry again, this time Watson accompanied me. It was another quite dark and cold night, and as we walked in the bitter air, our breath visible in the fog, I was curious as to what we would find upon this venture, and what other curiosities that secret lab could contain. As we approached Henry’s home this time, there were lights on within the windows.
“See Watson, clearly Henry is quite fine. We shall talk to him and find an explanation for all the mess and his odd disappearance” Watson looked more reassured as we walked up to his front door and I knocked. Once again, as had occurred last time I had visited, there was no answer after a few moments, and any sign or sound of anyone coming to answer the door. I didn’t try to knock again this time, as I had a feeling things were going to carry out similar to how they had those few nights prior. I gave the door a little push and once again I found it was unlocked and open. I fully opened the door and left myself and Watson in. This time, instead of entering a scene of darkness, we entered on of brightness. Once again the fire was alight, giving the inside of the home a warm feeling, but it was not the only light source. Various lamps throughout the entrance room were alight, but there was no sign of anyone being home apart from that. The scratches that I had seen on the walls on my previous visit were now barely visible. Someone, I assumed Henry, had taken the time to try and cover them up, unless you knew they were there you would not have noticed them. With no signs of any new scratches, I assumed Henry was alive and well, and was probably around somewhere.
“Henry, its Dr. Watson and Sherlock Holmes” Watson called out. There was no reply, no movement or sound at all. I decided to go and investigate that secret lab I had found on my last visit. With Watson following, I proceeded to the sitting room.
Upon entering the sitting room and attempting to open the door behind the ajar bookcase, unlike last time, I found this time, I was closed and locked. I tried to push the door a few more times but it was evident it was not going to open without force. Watson, a man who was quite knowledgeable in the operation of locks, came to help. Pulling a small and thin piece of wire from his coat pocket, he leant down and began to fiddle with the wire within the lock. Within a few moments we heard the click that told us the door had been successfully opened. With Watson withdrawing the wire from the lock and standing upright again I looked at him.
“Good work Watson”
“Thank you Holmes”
The door opened, and instead of being greeted by a pit of darkness, this time the secret lab was alight. It had a dark orange colour to it, and despite the light indicating the presence on someone within, there was silence. Watson and I proceeded down the stairs with caution and as quietly as we could. I had no idea what to except to se at the bottom of the stairs, nothing perhaps? As we walked down the stairs I looked at the surrounding walls. I noticed there were now scratches on these walls also, scratches that had not been there on my previous visit. These were not partly covered up as were the ones upstairs, but were thickly engraved into the wall; in fact they looked quite fresh and recent.
When we reached the bottom I heard Watson gasp. There, lying before us on the floor next to a desk and chair set up was our friend Henry. He did not move and I saw next to him a knife. Watson rushed over to him and knelt down to him.
“Henry? Henry! Dr. Jekyll?” Through the quiver in his voice I could this scene was disturbing and hurting him. I walked over to the two, helping Watson from the ground and walking over and placing him in the nearby chair. Going back over to Henry, commonly known to the wider community as Dr. Jekyll I examined his body. Looking over at the knife next to him there was clearly blood upon it, and, not wanting to touch or move the body, I assumed the wound would be found in his stomach region if the body was to be rolled over. I was continuing to examine the body and scene before me, to see if I could detect any other wounds when Watson found something.
“Holmes look, here on the desk, there’s a letter”. Watson began to unfold it as I waked over to him.
‘It’s in Jekyll’s writing as well”. When I reached Watson he immediately handed the letter to me before he could get a chance to read it. As I began to read the letter, I did so out loud.
“By the time you read this, whomever you are, I assume I shall already be deceased, possible before you as you read this. I write this so I do not go the grave with this knowledge I have obtained as a secret, such a deed may prevent me from entering heaven on my arrival. The secret I have to share is one of both good and evil. The best way to explain would be to start from the beginning. I am a man of status, wealth and knowledge to those whom know me within my community, and I am one who, upon thinking or discovering something, will wish to explore it due to a deep and addicting curiosity that is my personality. Of late, I had begun to think of the two personalities that every human essentially has within them, one of good, and one of evil. I began to wonder, if these personalities or personas could be separated from one another, given their own separate lives and thoughts, then maybe, as in many stories, the good over person could triumph over their evil side, as the evil identity finally found its own way in life, to live without the restrictions of the better twin. I constantly fantasized over achieving such a goal once I had it in mind, and after numerous hours and days of work and experimentation, I took the risk and drank of the drug that I thought should perform such an act. This was late one evening, and that evening I succeeded. After I drank, I felt the most terrible pains, as if my bones were grinding together, and the nausea within me was almost unbearable. Then, after a few moments, as quickly as these horrible feelings had come, they were gone. As soon as they were gone, though I still felt like myself, I felt some difference also. I felt lighter, happier, less worried, and could sense more evil thoughts and fantasizes within me then I ever thought possible for me to imagine. The consequences of carry out these thoughts did not faze me, and then I knew that I was no longer myself, my evil personality had come forth and now gained a life of its own. When I located a mirror, I did not see myself looking back at me, this personality had changed my outward appearance completely, and what I saw looking back at me was not pleasant. I stood there, looking into the mirror at that unfamiliar face; I began to feel myself, my other side, lose control. Edward Hyde was beginning to take control. Suddenly, I was leaving my home and running into the dark and seedy streets of the night, though I was well aware of what my body and evil twin was doing, I had no control, no ability to stop what he choose to do. Before I knew what was happening, before me was a young girl, dead, by Hyde’s hands. Hyde felt no conscious for what he had done, and my thoughts were not strong enough when Hyde was in control. The next morning I awoke of the floor of my lab, remembering what had occurred the night before, I began to worry. But then I knew no one knew who this figure or Mr. Hyde was, and as long as I did not transform into him, then he could never be convicted and me along with him. I decided that I would not allow myself to transform into this creature again.
The next day, I began to have odd feelings within myself continuously throughout. Quite like those I had felt when transforming into Hyde, but not as strong. As night time approached, and I bid my staff goodnight and closed the door, those feelings that had been tugging within me throughout the day came to the surface. The nausea and the pain began to feel exactly as they had when I had transformed into Hyde and I began to worry and wonder if that was what was happening to me. When the pains subsided and I ran to a mirror, Mr. Hyde was one again staring back at me. I smiled, well Hyde smiled, at me, a cheeky and mischievous grin, as if to say he had won, he was strong than me. Unlike the previous night, I felt that my own thoughts, the good thoughts, were stronger, I assumed due to this transformation being without the drug. I was telling Hyde I wasn’t going to allow him to go outside, I wasn’t going to allow him to be free into this world, and he did not approve of this. As I fought an inner battle to take myself down into my lab, Hyde yelled and struggled to fight against me, we were definitely enemies. I could head the horrible thoughts that ran through Hyde’s mine about me. I ignored them and when I eventually reached my lab, I tried to figure out a way to transform me back into myself without having to wait, I didn’t think I could keep up this struggle all night. I found a small batch of the drug I had made, that had not worked. I didn’t know what else to do so I drank some of this. I felt the pains in my body return, and within it felt like my body was being twisted and wrapped. When the pain subsided this time, I no longer had an evil thoughts running through my mind, and I didn’t feel any struggle to keep myself where I was. Running back upstairs to a mirror I was glad to see my own reflection looking back at me. Though relived that the drug had worked, I was wondering why Hyde had come to life without my intention. Had allowing him into the world and showing him he could be his own self, being able to act out his own thoughts, enabled him to become stronger? I was extremely worried.
The next day I went into my lab and tried to discover how this had happened and how to prevent it from happening again. Before the night came upon me again, I drank some more of the faulty drug hoping this might prevent Hyde from breaking through. For a few hours nothing occurred and I thought I had won, but then the pain began and I knew what was happening. When Hyde came through this time in was in an outrage over what I had done to him the previous night, and the rage made his thoughts and actions so strong that I could not control them no matter how hard I tried. That night, Hyde took another poor and innocent soul, with only me as his audience.
The next morning when I awoke, I sobbed at what Hyde had done, and did not know how to stop it all from happening. I knew Hyde despised me, and there was no way to reason with such an evil soul. Not wanting any other innocent person to get hurt, and not knowing how to completely rid myself of Hyde, as he was essentially a part of my personality, I decided I had to end my life. I am sure that before you, you can see how I decided to do so. I must finish my letter now as I can feel the pains and nausea that signal Hyde’s arrival coming upon me. If I allow him to take over before I finish this letter and before I do it, I doubt whether I shall have the power to do so, and whether this letter will remain intact. To Detective Sherlock Holmes and his good companion, and a great friend of mine, Dr. Watson, I am truly sorry for what Hyde has done, for what I have essentially done, allow such an evil creature to come into this world. You have been good friends to me over these years and I sincerely thank you.
Dr. Henry Jekyll.