have we? On the basis of what evidence are we to charge him? My suspicions are at bottom all inference and supposition, and if I were to mention them to Lestrade he would laugh in my face. But Moriarty would not laugh! He would summon his legal advisers and obtain his unconditional release, and then his revenge would be dreadful to behold. No, let us be grateful that we know the devil with whom we have to deal, and that he is content to fight this duel with me. Let us observe the rules of honour, and press our advantage home. Believe me, Watson – therein lies our only hope of smashing this man’s tyranny.’
I was reluctantly compelled to admit the force of Holmes’s arguments. But before he retired I had wrung from him a promise that I might accompany him at all times throughout the perilous hours that lay ahead. No longer would I be content to sit patiently at home awaiting the outcome. When Holmes left for Scotland Yard that afternoon, I went with him, a revolver in my pocket and in my heart the determination to stick close to his side wherever he might go and whatever might befall. I have often wondered to what extent the holocaust that was to come was due precisely to my success in this endeavour.
* King’s Pyland stables on Dartmoor was the scene of the disappearance of Silver Blaze.
† Sewer scavengers, or toshers, made their living by entering the London sewer system and sieving for items of value. Those who survived the tides and the rats could make as much as £2 a week.
‡ The Lyceum – ‘third pillar from the left’ – was the spot assigned by Thaddeus Sholto for Mary Morstan to meet his representative, thereby initiating the series of events which were to lead to Watson’s engagement.
§ Now Great Portland Street station, on the Metropolitan and Circle lines.
¶ William Palmer (1825–56), doctor and poisoner, and Charles Peace (1832–79), burgler and murderer.
|| Field-marshal Gebhard Leberecht von Blücher (1742–1819). The remark was allegedly made during a visit to London in 1814.
** Inspector Abberline was in charge of the detectives investigating the Whitechapel murders, and would thus have been Lestrade’s immediate superior at this time.
†† The North West Mounted Police became the more familiar Royal Canadian Mounted Police in 1904.
Three
A close account of the next four nights would offer only needless drudgery for writer and reader alike. Indeed, without considerable invention on my part it would not even be possible. I was too tired and dispirited to keep my notes, and my memory retains nothing beyond a general sense of weary futility. Our good fortune was restricted to the weather, which was unseasonably mild. As Lestrade sarcastically remarked, if one had to search Whitechapel by night for someone who wasn’t there one couldn’t wish for better weather, considering the time of year.
Holmes’s plan had been to swamp the entire area with police. He had calculated that the murderer would require at least ten minutes to kill and mutilate his victim, and he had accordingly drawn up a system of patrols which left no street unvisited for longer than that. The net was duly fashioned and thrown over Whitechapel. The three of us established ourselves at the Commercial Street police station and awaited developments. There were none. Holmes and I made outings from time to time to ensure that the patrols were observing the specified timetable. Occasionally a man would be a minute or two out, but we found no significant gaps in the mesh. There was simply nothing to be caught. By six o’clock on Monday morning it was clear that all our efforts had been in vain. The patrols were disbanded and we three assembled before a waning fire at the police station, grasping mugs of lukewarm tea. Lestrade was the only one to display any animation, and this was of a malicious cast. As thenights had gone by without incident the little official’s habitual swank and swagger had gradually replaced
I was reluctantly compelled to admit the force of Holmes’s arguments. But before he retired I had wrung from him a promise that I might accompany him at all times throughout the perilous hours that lay ahead. No longer would I be content to sit patiently at home awaiting the outcome. When Holmes left for Scotland Yard that afternoon, I went with him, a revolver in my pocket and in my heart the determination to stick close to his side wherever he might go and whatever might befall. I have often wondered to what extent the holocaust that was to come was due precisely to my success in this endeavour.
* King’s Pyland stables on Dartmoor was the scene of the disappearance of Silver Blaze.
† Sewer scavengers, or toshers, made their living by entering the London sewer system and sieving for items of value. Those who survived the tides and the rats could make as much as £2 a week.
‡ The Lyceum – ‘third pillar from the left’ – was the spot assigned by Thaddeus Sholto for Mary Morstan to meet his representative, thereby initiating the series of events which were to lead to Watson’s engagement.
§ Now Great Portland Street station, on the Metropolitan and Circle lines.
¶ William Palmer (1825–56), doctor and poisoner, and Charles Peace (1832–79), burgler and murderer.
|| Field-marshal Gebhard Leberecht von Blücher (1742–1819). The remark was allegedly made during a visit to London in 1814.
** Inspector Abberline was in charge of the detectives investigating the Whitechapel murders, and would thus have been Lestrade’s immediate superior at this time.
†† The North West Mounted Police became the more familiar Royal Canadian Mounted Police in 1904.
Three
A close account of the next four nights would offer only needless drudgery for writer and reader alike. Indeed, without considerable invention on my part it would not even be possible. I was too tired and dispirited to keep my notes, and my memory retains nothing beyond a general sense of weary futility. Our good fortune was restricted to the weather, which was unseasonably mild. As Lestrade sarcastically remarked, if one had to search Whitechapel by night for someone who wasn’t there one couldn’t wish for better weather, considering the time of year.
Holmes’s plan had been to swamp the entire area with police. He had calculated that the murderer would require at least ten minutes to kill and mutilate his victim, and he had accordingly drawn up a system of patrols which left no street unvisited for longer than that. The net was duly fashioned and thrown over Whitechapel. The three of us established ourselves at the Commercial Street police station and awaited developments. There were none. Holmes and I made outings from time to time to ensure that the patrols were observing the specified timetable. Occasionally a man would be a minute or two out, but we found no significant gaps in the mesh. There was simply nothing to be caught. By six o’clock on Monday morning it was clear that all our efforts had been in vain. The patrols were disbanded and we three assembled before a waning fire at the police station, grasping mugs of lukewarm tea. Lestrade was the only one to display any animation, and this was of a malicious cast. As thenights had gone by without incident the little official’s habitual swank and swagger had gradually replaced
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