On Monday night Whitechapel was full of policemen, all ready to catch Jack the Ripper. Nothing happened. Only Lestrade enjoyed this. 'You have failed, Mr Holmes,' he said. 'Your idea was very clever, but you made one mistake. You forgot to tell the murderer about it!' Holmes and I took a cab back to Baker Street. We were both too tired to talk then, but later that day I said, 'Holmes, what did happen? What went wrong?' 'We did not really fail. Moriarty could not kill anyone because we were there. But 1 badly wanted to catch him at his work, and there I failed.' 'He was there, then?' 'He was there. He saw what I had done, and realized that he could not kill a woman that night.' 'Then you did not fail! We have beaten him.' Holmes shook his head slowly. 'No, Watson. We have not beaten him yet. Think how angry he must be! I have stopped him once, and now he will try harder to kill me. He will go on with his planned murders, and he will do everything possible to make sure that he succeeds.' 'But Holmes, how do we ... ?' 'Remember, he kills, waits a week, kills again and then waits three weeks. So he will kill again next weekend. I must talk to Lestrade. But tonight, Watson, we shall amuse ourselves at the theatre.' 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