I said, “The constable I spoke with told me no one in the area had seen either the baboon or cheetah since that night, nor had Mrs Littledale. Only my stepfather had ever cared for them, though I myself had never actually seen him feed them, nor even seen the substantial amounts of food they should require, particularly the cheetah. My fear was that now, starving, they might harm someone, even venture towards the nearby village in the search for food. That no one had seen them suggested three possibilities to me. For one, they may have indeed left the area to seek sustenance. Or else, the gypsies, when they had been shooed off, had taken the beasts with them, for as my stepfather’s only friends they may have been more familiar with the animals than I had known. This would explain why the creatures had never attacked the gypsies. The only remaining possibility was that, weakened with hunger, the big monkey and great cat had taken shelter in the dilapidated wing of the house, having entered it through a broken window or even the caved-in roof, and now lay helpless within.
“That first night back I slept poorly, as one might imagine, having suffered wretched dreams about my stepfather’s pets trying to claw their way into the house. In the morning, as I was taking my breakfast, a letter came that was addressed to Dr Roylott. I accepted it, and recognised at once that it was from my stepfather’s longtime correspondent from India, Mr Edward Thurn. It did not surprise me that Mr Thurn should not yet know of Dr Roylott’s passing, but I was surprised to see that the letter bore a return address from Upper Swandam Lane, indicating that my stepfather’s old friend was now staying in London. You see, the two had become acquainted during that period in which my stepfather lived in Calcutta, where he had first met my widowed mother and where Julia and I lived until only eight years ago. It was my understanding that Dr Roylott and Mr Thurn had become friends when the latter was a patient of my stepfather, shortly before the time Dr Roylott was convicted of murdering his Indian butler in a fit of rage over some thievery, thus incurring his lengthy prison sentence. It was Mr Thurn who had shipped to Dr Roylott the baboon, cheetah, and the snake you identified as a swamp adder, Mr Holmes.
“I felt it would be a violation against Mr Thurn to read his correspondence, though my stepfather was beyond such consideration and undeserving of it, so I refrained from opening the letter, though I bade its deliverer to remain until I could pen a quick reply. In my message I informed Mr Thurn, without going into all the complex and unsavoury particulars, of his friend’s passing. I thought it was the decent thing to do, given that I could hardly imagine he was aware of the use his friend had planned for that venomous serpent. As I was unwilling to preserve any of my stepfather’s belongings and wanted to be rid of them, I invited Mr Thurn to come have a look at them and freely take away whatever might strike his fancy. I knew little of Mr Thurn, never having met him in person myself, but my stepfather had said he was a world traveller with an inquisitive mind and hence an avid reader, so I alluded to Dr Roylott’s library, which, though it consists of many medical texts, also contains numerous books on very esoteric and outré subjects. I sent my letter, but later in the day regretted somewhat my haste in offering Mr Thurn a look at my stepfather’s things before I could consult with my fiancé about their potential value. Chiefly, though, my regret was due to the fact that I did not intend to remain at Stoke Moran for many days and might not still be there should Mr Thurn come visiting from London.
“That night, shortly after Mrs Littledale had retired to my sister’s former room and I to mine, a most strange and horrible sound came to us from outside the house. In her terror, which was no doubt exacerbated by the housekeeper having to sleep in the room into which Dr Roylott had introduced his snake to murder poor Julia, Mrs Littledale came pounding on my door looking quite frantic. I felt certain the weird howling cries came from either the baboon or cheetah, though I could not tell which, and I even wondered if the starving cat was attacking the monkey in its desperation. We stood paralysed, listening at the shuttered window of my room until, despite my horror, my curiosity could bear it no longer. I removed the heavy bar that secured the shutters, and cracked them open enough to peek outside.
“It was a clear night with the moon almost full, and the grounds beyond lay silvered with its glow. On the lawn not far beyond my window a strange figure lay writhing and contorting, while arching back its neck and emitting the uncanny cries we had heard. Indistinct as it was, it could only be the baboon. The primate had always been of a darkish brown colour, and I considered that it might only be the moonlight that made the animal’s body appear so pale that it almost gave the impression of being faintly luminous. It was also of a ghastly, cadaverous aspect, and I had no doubt the pitiful beast was in the final stage of starvation.
“We watched until the creature gave a last violent convulsion, and its terrible howl tapered away to silence. It lay still, and almost in tears Mrs Littledale begged me to close and bar the window again. We could do no more than leave the creature where it had died until we should summon someone to bear away its body on the morrow.
“Mrs Littledale could not bring herself to return to her room alone, and in my guilt at having insisted she keep me company at Stoke Moran I permitted her to doze in the chair in my room. However, neither of us actually got much sleep for the remainder of that night.
“In the morning I was awakened by a shriek from outside, but this time the cry was human. I went racing from the house in my nightgown to find Mrs Littledale had already dressed and ventured outside to inspect the baboon’s corpse. As I came beside her I could readily understand her cry of shock and revulsion.
“The large monkey had decayed to an astonishing degree in a matter of hours, so that all that remained was a husk-like figure fashioned from what looked like the pale grey paper of a wasp’s nest. Even as we watched, a mere breeze caused one of its upper limbs to break off and tumble away across the grass like a chunk of ash, breaking up as it went. As we continued to gaze upon it in disbelief the animal’s dog-like head caved in, crumbled and disintegrated, until not even its long fangs remained. All was swept up and away in a cloud of fine powder in only the few minutes that we stood watching mesmerised and aghast.
“I was, of course, reminded of what the constable had told me about the remains of the snake that had been revealed inside the safe. What ailment, affliction or poison, I wondered, might cause two such different animals to decompose in so unnatural a way?
“All we could do now was go about our day as we had planned, my most fervent desire being to see myself rid of Stoke Moran soon.
“Later that day my Percy once more travelled to Surrey to discuss with me the progress made on divesting ourselves of Stoke Moran, and we also discussed our plans to move our wedding from May to June because of the strenuous occurrences of late. We thought to enjoy a quiet afternoon together at the estate now that my vile-tempered stepfather no longer dwelt there, but his shadow still lay heavily upon us, all the more so when I related to my fiancé the strange spectacle the housekeeper and I had witnessed the night before and our discovery that very morning. Mr Armitage was at a loss as to any explanation, his only half-heartened suggestion being that someone, perhaps one of the expelled gypsies, had placed a papier-mâché effigy upon the spot where the monkey had perished in the night. I do not think he held any more faith in this theory than I did. In any case, I also told him of my note to Mr Edward Thurn, and my fiancé expressed no regret regarding the offer I had extended, though he was concerned as to whether Mr Thurn truly had been ignorant of Dr Roylott’s intentions in wanting that poisonous snake sent to him from India. I assured him I could not conceive of my stepfather confiding in an accomplice when there was no need to do so, and that surely Mr Thurn only believed he was supplementing my eccentric stepfather’s existing menagerie.