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“If he had killed Simeonov, he would have had good cause to appear shaken.”

“Yes, I expect he would.”

“You carried the body into the bedroom with Colonel Yusufoglu; did you notice whether the colonel was armed?”

“I certainly did not see any weapon. He was not wearing a jacket at the time and, after we placed the body on the bed we went downstairs together and he remained within my sight for at least the next hour.”

“Are you convinced of his innocence then?”

The Baron said nothing, but his frown returned. He shifted in his chair. “Mr Holmes,” he said at length, “there is something else I feel I ought to tell you. I have shied away from so doing because I do not know the meaning of what I witnessed and I feared that my account would only confuse matters and possibly incriminate innocent individuals. However, from what I have heard of you and, moreover, now that I have met you in person, I am convinced that I can rely upon you utterly to arrive at the truth in this tangled affair.” Holmes bowed his head solemnly to the Baron.

“Shortly after I and the other guests arrived at Royston Manor, I went into the library to examine some of Lord Eversden’s books. (Books are a great passion of mine, Mr Holmes.) As I entered, which I did quietly in order not to disturb other readers, I heard the voices of Mr Leonticles and Colonel Yusufoglu, the Turkish Military Attaché. Leonticles was saying, “We have no choice, we must act now, we will not have a better chance.” Whereupon Yusufoglu replied: “No, no, not yet, not here. It would be safer – ” At that moment Count Balinsky walked noisily into the room and their conversation ended abruptly. As I said, Mr Holmes, I do not know what this means and I leave it in your capable hands.”

I looked at Holmes and was thrilled to see on his face that tense expression of exhilaration that indicated that he was hot on the scent. He rose and bowed to our gentlemanly host.

“Baron Nopchka,” he said with barely suppressed excitement, “your observations were invaluable.”

The Baron’s honest face looked both bewildered and encouraged by Holmes’ comments. He said: “Have you arrived at some conclusion about the case Mr Holmes? Good news or bad?”

“I have not yet quite concluded my investigations and, in any case, I am bound to report first to Orman Pasha, who commissioned me to look into the matter,” said Holmes, “However, I will say to you, Baron, that there is cause for optimism.”

We took our leave from the embassy, leaving a considerably puzzled, but to a great extent relieved, Austro-Hungarian nobleman behind us.

We arrived late at Baker Street, with Holmes in an excellent mood. A telegram awaited Holmes; he tore it open and read it aloud: “Prince on way to Constantinople. O.P.” “Excellent!” cried Holmes, “Our Turkish friend is playing the game.”

We consumed a magnificent dinner prepared by Mrs Hudson, during which Holmes refused to speak about the case. When we finished and were sitting by the fire, Holmes smoking his most malodorous pipe, he looked at me with shining eyes and said: “Watson, I intend to commit a felony tonight. Do you still have your service revolver and your jemmy?” I was thrilled; it was some considerable time since Holmes and I had one of those adventures that temporarily placed us on the wrong side of the law. “Holmes,” I said, earnestly, “I’m your man; just give me half an hour to collect them from my rooms.”

It was approaching midnight when Holmes and I arrived at Harrington Mews. We made our way stealthily to Number 6 and, as we approached, Holmes whispered in my ear: “Do you have your jemmy to hand Watson.” I nodded, and we stole up to the door like burglars. I was about to put my jemmy into action, when I gasped: “Holmes, the door is already open!” Holmes stood still.

“Interesting, Watson, interesting,” said Holmes in a whisper, “the night may yet yield many surprises.” We entered the house noiselessly. Holmes made his way swiftly but quietly to the study. As we reached the door, we could