"And another thousand pounds for the name of the kidnapper."
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"Mr Sherlock Holmes," the Duke said angrily, "what is this about? Do you have news of my son, or not?"
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"Very well," said the Duke tiredly. "Please, James…"
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"The Duke can see no one today," he said to Holmes.
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"Well, Mr Holmes?" he said.
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Holmes looked at James Wilder. "I can speak more freely without your secretary here, sir."
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James Wilder gave Holmes an angry look, but he went out of the room and shut the door.
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After half an hour the Duke of Holdernesse came into the room. He looked older -- tired and ill.
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Holmes looked at the Duke. "You are offering, I hear, five thousand pounds for news of your son."
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My friend smiled. "I see your cheque book on the table, sir. I would like to have your cheque for six thousand pounds."
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"True."
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"True."
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Holmes looked at him coldly. "The Duke can see me," he said. "Please tell him that I am here."
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At eleven o'clock the next morning Holmes and I were in the Duke's office at Holdernesse Hall. Mr Wilder came to speak to us.
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The Duke took out a pen, opened his cheque book, and began to write. "When I made this offer, I didn't know…" He stopped, then began again. "Are you and your friend going to talk about this, Mr Holmes?"
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The Duke fell back in his chair.
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"I don't understand you, sir," said Holmes.
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"And the name of the kidnapper?"
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"Only I and my friend here, Dr Watson."
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The Duke stood up, his face white and angry. Then he sat down again, and put his face in his hands. It was some minutes before he spoke.
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"How much do you know?" he asked.
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"And how many people know about this?"
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"Oh, yes,"said Holmes.
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The Duke's eyes never left Holmes's face. "Where is my son?" he said quietly.
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"I saw you with him last night," said Holmes.
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"He is -- or was last night -- at the Green Man Inn, three kilometres along the road to Chesterfield."
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"I mean… Nobody needs to know about this -- this little family mystery. Just you and your friend Watson. Look, here is my cheque for twelve thousand pounds."
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Sherlock Holmes's answer was a very surprising one. "You," he said. "And now, sir, your cheque, please."
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Holmes gave him a cold little smile. "I'm sorry, sir. There is a dead man in this case. You remember?"
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"But that wasn't James!" cried the Duke. "He knew nothing about it. He was very, very unhappy when he heard about the -- the killing."
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"Murder," said Holmes.
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"But James wasn't there! And when he heard about it, he came to me at once, and told me everything. Oh, Mr Holmes, you must help him -- you must! He is not the murderer! The murderer ran away last night."
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The Duke looked at Holmes with an open mouth. "You -- you know everything!" he said. "But I am pleased to hear about Hayes -- he was always a bad man. And that news can only help James."
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"James? Your secretary?" said Holmes.
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Holmes smiled again. "I have a little more news for you, sir. The police met Mr Reuben Hayes last night at Chesterfield station. Mr Hayes is not running anywhere for a very long time."
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"No, sir. My son. James Wilder is my son."
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