‘He was not immediately sure. He saw something white floating in the lock – he thought it was a lily. But it bothered him, and he came back some time later. It was still there. He went in for a closer look and discovered it was a foot. It apparently took him some time to get anyone to pay attention to his claim.’

The foot presenting on the surface was highly unusual, as it was the torso – lungs filled with air and abdomen with fat – that floated more readily. ‘Then she must have been trapped underwater, submerged … face down. Perhaps her hair was tangled into something?’ I said.

The policeman nodded. ‘Yes. Exactly. The gates were opened and she was sucked into the sluice tunnel, her hair tangled into the gate mechanism.’

This image was horrifying, but she had been unconscious at the time, I reminded myself. Unaware. Thank the heavens for this, at least. ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘Sherlock Holmes may have something useful to offer us. If you will permit?’

Minutes later, back at the station, we were both in for a surprise. Where Holmes had been locked in, Hadley and I now faced an empty cell, the door ajar, and handcuffs on the floor. In spite of it all, in spite of the horror of our discovery, I felt a small tingle of delight. Holmes had managed to free himself!

Hadley missed the humour. ‘Now this is a real shame,’ said he.

‘Mr Holmes can help you solve this case,’ I said. ‘He has only to—’

‘He has ruined his chances,’ said Hadley. ‘You must realize that his arrest was a courtesy to the don. I planned to hold him overnight only. He will now face serious charges.’

I inwardly cursed my friend’s impatience, while admiring his skills. But where was he now?

CHAPTER 30

Freddie Eden-Summers

As Hadley began instructing his men to begin the investigation into Dillie’s death, I made my way outside and walked down the sunbaked street, unsure of what to do next. I had no idea where Holmes might have gone, but I had not long to ponder this as a hiss drew my attention to a narrow alleyway. In the shadows, a head of tousled dark hair peeked from behind several stacks of rubbish. A skinny arm waved me over.

I glanced about me, then ducked into the alley. ‘Holmes!’ I whispered. ‘You have made a mistake. Hadley was planning to release you tomorrow, and now—’

Holmes pulled me down next to him behind the heaping waste. ‘Tomorrow will be too late, Watson!’ He grasped both my arms, too hard, his face inches from mine. He was the picture of dismay. ‘Dear God, I have failed that young woman!’

‘No, Holmes. You gave her clear advice which she ignored.’ He shook his head. ‘You warned her that her provocations put her in danger.’

‘Not her provocations. It was her casual cruelty that made me fear for her.’