Hadley took Vitale’s legs and hoisted him up, taking the pressure off while I removed my pocketknife and slashed through the fabric. In a moment, we had him down and onto the cot, where I tore off the noose. The thin young man was white and still. I gently felt his neck to determine if the windpipe had been crushed.

Suddenly Vitale gagged and choked. We had managed to cut him down just in time.

‘We have him, sir,’ said Palmer, and we turned to see Finnegan and Palmer holding Holmes between them.

Lamb was nowhere to be seen.

‘Not him, you idiots, the priest!’ shouted Hadley.

They hesitated. ‘But—’ cried Finnegan.

‘After him, now!’ ordered the Inspector.

They released Holmes, who would have collapsed had I not caught him. I did so and sat him on the edge of the cot. Holmes rubbed his own throat and glanced over at Vitale, whose hands were across his heart as he continued to inhale big gasping breaths.

‘Vitale?’ Holmes rasped.

‘He will make it.’ I said.

Leo Vitale’s eyes opened part way and he took us in. ‘Thank you …’ he whispered, his voice ravaged.

‘Lamb strung you up there?’ Holmes asked.

‘Yes,’ murmured Vitale. ‘He is stronger than he looks.’

He must have been strong to have nearly bested Holmes, I thought. ‘Don’t try to talk, Mr Vitale,’ I said.

Holmes looked up at Hadley, who had been watching this exchange with deep interest.

The senior policeman, to his credit, did the decent thing and did it without hesitation. ‘I apologize, Mr Holmes. We will catch Lamb. You have the lead, sir.’

‘To your office, then,’ said Holmes. ‘I have a plan.’

‘Have blankets and food brought for Mr Holmes,’ I said.

Hadley spoke sharply to a deputy in the hall outside the room, and the fellow ran off to gather what was needed.

‘But I need a moment first,’ said Holmes. He reached over and pulled back the collar of the boy’s shirt. I presumed he was looking at the wounds from the noose, but I gasped when I saw a purple ink stain on Vitale’s neck.

‘Mr Vitale. You were in Buttons’ room the night of Dillie’s murder. You lied to me about that,’ said Holmes.

‘Yes … yes, I was, but …’ The boy’s eyes filled with tears.

‘Tell me what happened, and if you want to avoid the hangman, you will not lie to me again.’

‘I … I …’ the boy choked and coughed violently.

I took out my flask and poured brandy down his throat. ‘He should not be speaking,’ I said.