"Come in," called Dupin, in a friendly way.

"Be ready with your guns," said Dupin. "But don't use them or show them until I say."

"Sit down, my friend," said Dupin. "You've come about the orang-outang, yes? My word, what a fine animal that is! You're lucky to own him. Do you know how old he is?"

"Good evening," he said.

The front door of the house was open, and the visitor was already half way up the stairs. The feet stopped for a moment, then began again, and a few seconds later there was a knock on the door of our room.

The door opened and a man came in. He was a sailor, clearly -- a tall, strong man, with a sunburnt face. He was carrying a heavy stick, but no gun. He looked first at me, then at Dupin, and did not smile.

"Oh, no. We couldn't keep him in this house," Dupin said. "He's at a place in the Rue Dubourg, just round the corner. You can get him in the morning. Of course, you must show me that you are the real owner."

The sailor sat down and the worried look left his face. "No, I don't know," he said. "But he's probably not more than four or five years old. Have you got him here?"

"I shall be sorry to lose the animal," said Dupin.

"I'm very happy to pay something," the man said. "I know it's expensive, keeping an animal like that."

"Well," said my friend, "that's good of you. What shall I ask? Let me think… Ah yes! This is what I want. You must tell me everything -- everything -- about these murders in the Rue Morgue."

Dupin said these last words very quietly. Just as quietly, he walked to the door, locked it, and put the key in his pocket. He then took a gun from his coat pocket and put it, slowly and quietly, on the table in front of him.

"Yes, sir, of course," the sailor said.

The sailor's face turned a deep red. He jumped to his feet and took up his heavy stick. But a minute later he fell back into his chair, and sat there, shaking, with a face now as white as death itself. He said not a word. I felt deeply sorry for him.

"My friend," said Dupin, in a kind voice, "there's no need to be afraid -- really no need. You are not in any danger from us. I know very well that you yourself are innocent of these terrible murders in the Rue Morgue. But you do know something about them. You are not a murderer, or a thief, and you have nothing to hide. But you must tell me the true story. The police have arrested an innocent man for these murders. And if you don't speak, this man will go to prison, perhaps lose his life."

This was the sailor's story.

The sailor was silent for a while. Then he said, "God help me. I will tell you what I know. You will think it's a very strange story, but it's true. I am innocent, and I must help this other man if I can."

I have just come back from the East Indies. While I was there, I visited the island of Borneo. There I found and caught this orang-outang. It is a wild and dangerous animal, and I had a difficult journey home. But at last, we arrived back in France, and I took the animal to my house in Paris. I kept it hidden because of the neighbours, and I was planning to sell it as soon as possible for a lot of money.

On the night of the 3rd of June I was out late with some friends. When I got back home, I found the orang-outang in my bedroom, with my razor in its hand. The door to its own room was broken to pieces. I just didn't know what to do. The animal is dangerous at the best of times, but with a razor in its hands…! On the ship home I always used a whip to keep the animal quiet, so I went to find my whip now. But the minute the orang-outang saw the whip, it ran out of the room, down the stairs, and jumped through an open window into the street.

I was really afraid now. How could I catch it? The animal ran, and I followed. Sometimes it stopped and looked at me, the razor still in its hand. But when I got near, it ran on again. And so we went on. Luckily, the streets were very quiet because it was nearly three o'clock in the morning.

Then, when we were going down a narrow street at the back of the Rue Morgue, the animal saw a light in a window on the fourth floor. Before I could do anything, the animal saw the lightning-rod, quickly climbed up it, took hold of the latticed shutter, and swung itself through the open window. All this took less than a minute. The shutter then swung open again, back against the wall.

At last, I thought, I can catch the animal now. But at the same time, I felt very worried. What was the animal doing in that room up there? I decided to follow it up the lightning-rod at once. When I got to the fourth floor, I found it was impossible for me to get across to the window. I could just look into the room -- and at that moment a most terrible screaming began. God help me, I will never, ever forget the horrible things that I saw that night.

The orang-outang took hold of Madame L"Espanaye by the hair, with the razor still in its other hand. The daughter fainted at once, and lay still and white on the floor. The old lady tried to get away, but the animal pulled out handfuls of her hair. She fought and screamed, and this probably made it very angry. Then, with the razor, it nearly cut her head off her body. So much blood! And the blood made the animal even angrier. It ran to the girl's body and fastened its horrible hands around her neck. When she was dead, it looked up -- and saw my face through the window. I was shouting at it, and it made noises back at me. Perhaps then it remembered my whip, and perhaps that's why it tried to hide the dead bodies. If you can't see anything, then nothing has happened. I don't know. First, it ran around the room, breaking all the chairs and tables, pulling the mattress off the bed. Then, it took the girl's body and pushed it up the chimney. And last, it took the old lady's body, carried it to the window, and pushed it through.

So that was the story behind the murders in the Rue Morgue. Just before the neighbours broke down the door of the room, the orang-outang went out through the window, which dropped down behind it.

I could not watch any more. I almost fell down the lightning-rod, and ran home. I just wanted to get away from the horror of it.

"We won't argue with him," Dupin said to me when we walked home together. "Let him talk. He's a good man, in his way. I found the answer to this mystery, and he didn't. That's all there is to say, really."

In the end the sailor caught the orang-outang and sold it for a lot of money. We went to talk to the police inspector, and the same afternoon Adolphe Le Bon walked out of prison, a free man. The inspector was not too happy about it all. He talked a lot about people who tried to do the job of the police but who didn't understand police work.