His
chair is worth seven hundred a year. And he owns a Greuze."
"Well?"
"Surely the inference is plain."
"You mean that he has a great income and that he must earn it in
an illegal fashion?"
"Exactly. Of course I have other reasons for thinking so--dozens
of exiguous threads which lead vaguely up towards the centre of
the web where the poisonous, motionless creature is lurking. I
only mention the Greuze because it brings the matter within the
range of your own observation."
"Well, Mr. Holmes, I admit that what you say is interesting:
it's more than interesting--it's just wonderful. But let us have
it a little clearer if you can. Is it forgery, coining,
burglary--where does the money come from?"
"Have you ever read of Jonathan Wild?"
"Well, the name has a familiar sound. Someone in a novel, was he
not? I don't take much stock of detectives in novels--chaps that
do things and never let you see how they do them. That's just
inspiration: not business."
"Jonathan Wild wasn't a detective, and he wasn't in a novel. He
was a master criminal, and he lived last century--1750 or
thereabouts.
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