Hadley pulled up short at this. ‘Well, that is interesting. Perhaps Vitale is ready to admit his guilt.’

‘Possibly. But please come now! Holmes fears a man may die in your custody!’

And had Hadley not responded as he did, that man might well have been Sherlock Holmes.

We raced back to the station to find chaos there. Apparently Holmes’s escape from his cell had just been noted, and Pickering was in a lather. Palmer and the red-haired young constable stood in the entry room. ‘Find him! Find him!’ Pickering shouted, strapping on his pistol.

If anyone could hide himself in this relatively small police station, it would be my friend.

The moment Pickering saw Hadley he rushed up to his superior. ‘Holmes has broken out again. He must have had help.’ He turned to me in a fury. ‘You!’ Pickering reached out and grabbed my wrist and was about to snap on handcuffs when Hadley stopped him.

‘Step away, Mr Pickering. I have had enough of your temper,’ said Hadley.

‘Temper, sir?’ cried Pickering. ‘That Holmes has made a mockery—’

‘Mr Pickering, you are on leave as of this moment. Finnegan and Palmer, follow me!’

I just caught a glimpse of Pickering’s gaping response as the four of us headed down the hallway.

‘Where is Leo Vitale being held?’ asked Hadley of his young officer.

‘We moved him to that cell out at the back when we took in the two drunks last night,’ replied Palmer as we raced down the hallway and into a courtyard.

We dashed into a ramshackle back building. It was a former stable, now a storage area, containing a lone cell at the far end. The barred door to the cell was ajar. We heard a desperate cry. ‘Help! Murder!’

It was Holmes’s voice!

The scene that greeted us there was something I never expected. Two struggling figures blocked the entrance.

It was Holmes locked in mortal combat with Father Lamb!

The priest had his hands wrapped around Holmes’s neck. The detective clawed at them, and then both lurched back from the doorway towards the centre of the cell, as Holmes managed to kick Lamb’s feet out from under him.

They crashed to the floor, revealing behind them Leo Vitale, hanging by the neck from a noose created from the sheet of his cot!

The noose was tied to a pipe in the ceiling. Vitale’s feet dangled and kicked six inches off the ground as he clawed desperately at it. He gagged and choked – the terrible sounds of a dying man.

‘Take him!’ Hadley directed his men to Holmes and Lamb. Palmer and Finnegan leaped into the fray as Hadley and I ran to the boy.