The voice that answers Utterson pleads, "For God's sake, have mercy!" Utterson is stunned: The voice is not Jekyll's. It belongs to Hyde. Instantly, he calls out to Poole: "Down with the door!" Poole crashes his ax four times against the sturdy red door, and each time, dismal, animal-like screeches are heard inside. On the fifth time, the lock bursts open, and the door falls inward. The scene inside is strange and incongruous. A quiet fire is flickering in the hearth, a tea kettle is singing, papers are neatly placed on the business table, and things are laid out for tea. Yet in the midst of this cozy scene, the body of a man is lying face down, terribly contorted and still twitching. The body is indeed dwarf-like, dressed in clothes far too large for him, clothes that would have fit Jekyll's large stature. Clearly, all life is gone, despite the fact that the muscles continue to twitch involuntarily. In one hand are the remains of a crushed vial. To Utterson, it seems to be a clear case of suicide. Sternly, he tells Poole that they have come too late to save or punish Hyde. Only one task remains now: They must find Jekyll's body.
They search the entire wing but find nothing: "nowhere was there any trace of Henry Jekyll, dead or alive." They go to the dissecting room and find Hyde's key, broken in half and rusty. The mystery remains. Once more they go up and view Hyde's dead body, then begin examining Jekyll's chemical equipment. Poole points out to Utterson the heaps of "white salt" that Jekyll had sent him on errands for.
The teapot suddenly boils over and startles them; Utterson picks up a pious work of literature and is aghast at the blasphemies written in the margin. The "cheval," the full-length mirror, puzzles both men. "This glass has seen some strange things," Poole whispers.
