‘Here? No. That maid was a thief. As was my daughter! I found one of Odelia’s earrings in the back of a drawer in her hideaway, one that she swore was missing from the house a year ago. Come to think of it, several pieces of my mother’s jewellery have gone missing from my wife’s room over the last year. It got so that Ianthia would not mention this to me for fear of … but dear Atalanta noticed and kept me informed. I suspected my wife’s carelessness … but now I think it was Odelia and Polly, stealing things and perhaps pawning them to fund Odelia’s adventures. When I get my hands on either of them—’

A slight movement in the periphery drew my eye to a side door, near the fireplace. There, positioned behind her father, Atalanta was visible watching the proceedings. Her face was a blank and yet everything about her projected eager concentration. I got the distinct impression of a mongoose watching a snake.

Holmes regarded the father with disdain equivalent to the don’s. ‘Sir, your irresponsible actions have driven your daughter from you and have made it impossible for me to do my job.’

‘What job? No one has hired you.’

‘Rest assured I will find out what happened to your daughter, and if she is hurt, and you were involved, Wyndham, you will be sorry that—’

‘You dare to threaten me! I hold you responsible for what has happened! Officers!’

A small sound behind us caused me to turn. Detective Inspector Hadley and the unpleasant Sergeant Pickering had arrived without our seeing, thanks to the don’s careful choreography. They now stood on the threshold. A third policeman, a tall, muscular lad of twenty, with a black handlebar moustache, glowered behind them.

‘Mr Hadley, did you hear what this upstart detective Mr Holmes just said?’ bellowed Wyndham. ‘He threatened me!’

‘I did indeed, Mr Wyndham,’ said Hadley, in his reasonable manner. ‘Mr Holmes, will you come with me to the station, please? I don’t wish to cuff you but will if you resist.’

Sergeant Pickering removed shiny silver handcuffs and held them up. I had the sudden image of him polishing them, alone, each evening.

‘You are arresting me, Inspector Hadley? On what charge?’ asked Holmes.

‘Trespassing,’ said Hadley. ‘We are told you forced your way in here.’

‘I did nothing of the sort.’

‘The footman and the butler will swear to the contrary,’ said the don with a small smile.

Holmes turned incredulously to the man.

‘Sir?’ I said, equally outraged.

‘Yes indeed! Trespassing!’ Wyndham went on. ‘And lying by omission to me about my dear daughter Odelia. Officer, I hold this man responsible for her disappearance, if not complicit!’

‘What?’ I cried. ‘That is a ludicrous accusation, sir!’