Silence, then a wheeze followed by another sudden cough, and water poured from Buttons’ lips. He choked and began to breathe. Father Lamb stepped forward and kneeled next to the boy, tears streaming down his face.

The young man at last began to breathe on his own, great rasping breaths.

‘Thank the Lord,’ said Lamb, cradling Peregrine Buttons as though he were his dearest child.

I wondered if forgiveness was in the priest’s heart, for learning of the violence that had transpired in the young man’s room would surely burn all the love away.

CHAPTER 39

Gaol

This tender moment was interrupted by Inspector Hadley. He appeared on the scene, apparently straight from his bed, his hair awry, coat buttoned wrongly and his normally calm visage creased with anger and concern. He approached me.

‘The deacon! Dr Watson, will this man survive?’

‘Probably,’ I said.

‘Can you confirm a suicide attempt, Doctor?’

‘Yes, I witnessed it.’

‘What were you and Holmes doing here?’

‘Investigating Deacon Buttons. Mr Holmes has discovered a great deal in his room at the rectory. Miss Dillie Wyndham was abducted from there, and he has much to tell you.’ I looked up to see Holmes now standing some ten feet away with the same two constables who had helped him rescue Buttons. Now each gripped one of his arms. The three of them – soaked and with the morning rain further splattering upon them – were a sorry sight.

Hadley approached the group. ‘Mr Holmes, you are under arrest for your previous escape. Disregard for the law will not be tolerated. Palmer and Wright, convey Mr Holmes and Deacon Buttons to the station – Buttons on the charges of suspected murder and attempted suicide. Then dry yourselves off.’

‘Inspector Hadley,’ I cried, ‘Mr Holmes just rescued a man!’

‘True enough, sir,’ said the young constable on Holmes’s right, with blond, brush-cut hair. ‘We helped, but this gentleman saved the fellow, sir.’

Holmes turned to the young man. ‘Thank you, Constable—?’

‘Palmer,’ said the fellow.

‘Thank you, Palmer,’ said Holmes. ‘Now, Mr Hadley. Dr Watson and I have been at the rectory, and—’

‘Dr Watson has told me. We will follow up, but you’re going to the gaol now,’ said Hadley. ‘Is that boy safe for transport?’ he asked me, nodding towards Buttons.

‘He needs care. Shock can follow a near drowning,’ I said.

‘We’ll take that risk. Ride with me, Doctor Watson.’

And so it happened that Buttons, weak and shivering, and Holmes, frustrated and angry, were both handcuffed and bundled, soaking wet, into the single Black Maria owned by the Cambridge police.

In Hadley’s private carriage, I attempted to reason with the man. ‘Mr Hadley! I do not exaggerate the dangers of shock. Deacon Buttons came close to death back there. Please let me examine him when we arrive.’