‘No, I would not think. I have seen boastful criminals taunt the police in precisely this way. It is sheer arrogance,’ said Hadley, smoothing his hair self-consciously.

Holmes had used this same argument regarding Madame Borelli, and it was true. We had encountered this before. The more I considered the matter, the stronger I leaned towards Buttons as the culprit. The constraints of his chosen profession had weighed heavily upon him. He was a highly emotional man.

‘At this point,’ said Hadley, ‘my suspicions are divided, however. I have not eliminated the rather unusual Mr Vitale. Now that is a strange young man. A touch inhuman.’

Holmes shifted on his chair. He must be devilishly uncomfortable, I thought, soaking wet and having just undergone tremendous physical strain while rescuing a drowning man from a powerful current.

‘Miss Wyndham was attacked and dealt the fatal blow in Deacon Buttons’ room,’ said he. ‘Her body was dumped out of the window and from there conveyed to the river. But I found evidence that at some point during the night in question, others were in that room. Possibly two others. Whoever killed her attempted to straighten up the room and remove evidence, but did so in haste. There is something still to be learned. You must let me finish there!’

‘I am sorry, but no.’

Just then Holmes was taken by a sudden coughing spell and appeared to cough up more water. He gasped. ‘I am having difficulty breathing in this thing. Doctor …’

I took his meaning at once. ‘Sir! This man nearly drowned. At least let me, a medical doctor, examine him. You don’t want the famous London detective to suffocate while in your custody because your inept sergeant was too enthusiastic. Believe me, I will make sure the full force of the law comes down upon you if he is hurt here.’

‘Oh, stop threatening me, Dr Watson. I don’t want him in here at all,’ said Hadley. ‘But you see my position. Yes, by all means check. But nothing funny, Doctor, or I’ll lock you up as well.’

CHAPTER 40

Church and State

Hadley unlocked the cell and I moved inside and knelt by Holmes, to check that his breathing was not constricted. Behind me, young Constable Palmer entered the small room outside Holmes’s cell. ‘I cannot induce Father Lamb to leave, sir. He is very concerned about the prisoner.’

‘Tell him to wait,’ Hadley answered.

As I leaned over Holmes to check his bonds, he whispered in my ear, ‘Give me your pocketknife, Watson.’

This seemed like a terrible idea. I gave Holmes my best ‘you are utterly mad’ look while saying aloud, ‘I will need to loosen this strap here.’ As I went about my task, I nevertheless managed to slip him the knife, unseen, pressing it into his hand from the bottom of the straitjacket. ‘Careful, Holmes,’ I whispered.

Giving him the knife had been against my better judgement.