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By Root 670 0

had been approached by the boy that Creer had sent out and asked to come to the house on the corner of Milward Street. He had been on his way when he had heard two gunshots and had rushed to Coppergate Square which was where he had discovered a man, lying unconscious with a gun, and a girl lying in a pool of blood. He had taken charge of the scene as a crowd had gathered. He had seen at once that there was nothing he could do for the girl. He described how I had arrived and identified the unconscious man as Sherlock Holmes.

‘I couldn’t believe it when I heard that,’ he said. ‘I had read some of the exploits of Mr Sherlock Holmes and to think that he might be involved in this sort of thing … well, it beggared belief.’

Perkins was followed by Inspector Harriman, instantly recognisable on account of that shock of white hair. From the way he spoke, with every word measured and carefully delivered for perfect effect, it could be imagined that he had been rehearsing this speech for hours, which may well indeed have been the case. He did not even attempt to keep the contempt out of his voice. The imprisonment, and indeed the execution of my friend, might have been his only mission in life.

‘Let me tell the court my movements last night.’ Thus he began. ‘I had been called to a break-in at a bank on the White Horse Road, which is but a short distance away. As I was leaving, I heard the sound of gunshots and the constable’s whistle and turned my way south to see if I could assist. By the time I arrived, Constable Perkins was in command and doing an admirable task. I will be recommending Constable Perkins for a promotion. It was he who informed me of the identity of the man who now stands before you. As you have already heard, Mr Sherlock Holmes has a certain reputation. I am sure many of his admirers are going to be disappointed that the true nature of the man, his addiction to drugs and its murderous consequences, should have fallen so far from the fiction which we have all enjoyed.

‘That Mr Holmes murdered Sally Dixon is beyond question. In fact, even the imaginative powers of his biographer would be unable to raise a shred of doubt in the minds of his readers. At the scene of the crime I observed that the gun in his hand was still warm, that there were residues of powder-blackening on his sleeve and several small bloodstains on his coat which could only have arrived there if he had been standing in close proximity to the girl when she was shot. Mr Holmes was semi-conscious, still emerging from an opium trance and barely aware of the horror of what he had done. I say “barely aware” but by that I do not mean that he was completely ignorant. He knew his guilt, your honour. He offered no defence. When I cautioned him and placed him under arrest, he made no attempt to persuade me that the circumstances were anything other than what I have described.

‘It was only this morning, after eight hours sleep and a cold shower, that he came up with a cock-and-bull story proclaiming his innocence. He told me that he had visited Creer’s Place, not because he was drawn there to feed his unsavoury appetite, but because he was investigating a case, the details of which he refused to share with me. He said that a man, known only to him as Henderson, had sent him to Limehouse in pursuit of some clue, but that the information had turned out to be a trap and that as soon as he had entered the den he had been overpowered and forced to consume some narcotic. Speaking personally, I find it a little strange when a man visits an opium den and then complains that he has been drugged. And since Mr Creer spends his entire life selling drugs to men who wish to buy them, it is unaccountable that on this occasion he should have decided to give them away free. But we know that this is a barrel of lies. We have already heard from a distinguished witness who saw Mr Holmes smoke one pipe and then demand a second. Mr Holmes also claims that he knows the murdered girl and that she, too, was part of this mysterious investigation. I am willing to accept this part of