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'Every evening for ten years he had taken his false teeth out after dinner and hurled them at her. One day she finally snapped. I cannot find it in my heart to blame her. Knowing how much I get on Watson's nerves, I occasionally wonder if my last sight on this Earth will be of him standing at the foot of my bed with a syringe of cyanide in his hand.'

I coughed to hide my smile.

'And how did you detect the crime?' I asked, trying to deflect the conversation into a different course.

'Mr Jolly had a glass eye. The rapid cooling, followed by the significant rise in temperature as the rising sun shone upon it, had caused it to crack.'

'You're making it up,' said Bernice.

At that moment a figure loomed into sight behind Holmes's back. I half rose from my seat. The figure clapped its hands on my shoulders and shook me.

'Watson! Good God man, what on Earth are you doing here? Do you live on trains?'

That florid face: that huge walrus moustache. A conversation about violins.

'Warburton?'

'The very same.'

In amazement I cast my mind back to the Orient Express, where our adventure had started a few short weeks ago. Colonel Warburton had been one of the passengers. He and his wife had been on their way to . . .

'Jabalhabad, wasn't it?' Holmes said casually. 'I remember you saying that you were the Resident there.'

'Mr Holmes, good to see you again. Yes indeed, we've been back for a few weeks now. I left the memsahib sorting out the mess the servants had made of the bungalow and headed to Gadawara on business. I must say, I hadn't expected to find you here. On a case are you? The little lady will be pleased. I thought you were on your way back to dear old Blighty after that odd business with the other train. You never did tell us what that was about. Some secret assignation, was it?'

I could see from Holmes's slightly glassy expression that he wasn't entirely sure which question to duck.

'We find ourselves heading for Jabalhabad as well,' he said finally. 'Quite a coincidence that we should come across each other again.'

'Mind if I join you?'

Warburton eased his large frame into the seat opposite Bernice.

'I don't believe I've had the pleasure,' he continued, extending a hand.

'Colonel Warburton,' I blustered, 'this is . . . er, Miss . . . er Mister...'

'Benny Summerfield,' said Bernice, shaking Warburton's hand. He winced slightly at her firm grip.

'Pleased to meet you. Are you part of the mystery too?'

Bernice smiled.

'Aren't we all?' she said.

The stewards came along then, and took our orders for lunch. We dined well and drank even better. Holmes and Bernice ordered copious quantities of weak whisky and soda: Warburton and I, old hands at the tropics, stuck with gin and tonic. Many was the toast to the Queen-Empress that afternoon. Warburton was eager to find out what we were doing heading for Jabalhabad, but Bernice was singularly skilled at turning the subject back to the Colonel's life in India. He told us about the Nizam of Jabalhabad, who ruled the small province to which Warburton had been posted as the representative of Her Majesty. God alone knows how it happened, but by the time lunch was over, Bernice had inveigled Warburton into inviting us to stay at his bungalow and attend an official dinner - a burrah khana, or big feast, as Warburton called it - to be thrown by the Nizam in a few days time. Even Holmes was taken aback at the speed with which Bernice worked. I felt my admiration for her growing by leaps and bounds.

Extract from the diary of Bernice Summerfield

It's been a couple of days since I've made an entry. The Doctor's kidnapping threw me into a furious rage, most of which I took out on poor Watson. We decided that the best thing to do was to follow the plan and set off for Jabalhabad, there to try and trace the recipient of Maupertuis's boxes.

We staggered off the train at Jabalhabad two days ago. I haven't had time to make an entry since then. The area is hilly and green, and a lot cooler than the plains. Have you ever heard of