He would say no more, but that night, while we were
at the theatre, he disappeared from my side without
a word. 1 did not even see him leave, and for several
days I neither saw him nor heard from him. Then, at
dinner time on the night when we had hoped to
catch Jack the Ripper at his work, he suddenly
appeared again in Baker Street.
'Holmes!' I cried. 'Where have you been?'
'Don't worry, old fellow.' He sat down by the fire. 'I
have been keeping Moriarty busy and playing
games with him. He has chased me all over the
country, but, as you see, I am still alive. I shall tell you
my adventures some other time. Lestrade will be
here in a minute to discuss tonight's plan.'
When Lestrade arrived, he did not seem at all
pleas
ed to see us.
'So, another of your clever little plans, Mr Holmes,' he
said coldly. 'Do you really think we shall see the killer
tonight?' 'He will be at work tonight,' Holmes replied.
'The only question is, shall we be ready for him? I
suppose you have d
one everything that I ordered
you to do?'
'We are ready for him.'
'Then let us go. We must not keep Jack the Ripper
waiting.' It was a cold, windy night, and we were
grateful for our thick coats as we sat in the cab. It
took us to the big police station
in Commercial
Street. Hundreds of policemen were waiting there to
begin the night's work. Holmes and I sat down to
wait, too.
After some time I said to Holmes, 'This waiting is
terrible. 1 wish we could do something.'
'We can,' he replied.
'When a crime
is reported. Until then we can only
wait. The murderer could be anywhere out there.'
Holmes picked up a piece of paper and a pencil.
'He could.
But I think I know where he is. Look at this.' This is what
he showed me: