As she came near to Holmes, he stopped and spoke to her.
They both laughed. Further along the street I saw the short fat man, now standing outside a pub, watching them. Then Holmes and the girl walked off together and a few seconds later the man followed them. How I feared for Holmes's safety! I was sure that the man and the girl were working for Moriarty. They had some plan, I knew, to hurt my friend. Perhaps only I could save him.
Holmes and the girl walked on, the man followed them, and I followed all three. At last Holmes and the girl stopped at the entrance to a yard. I heard the woman's voice. I could not hear Holmes's words, bur to my surprise I clearly saw him kiss her face. Then they entered the yard, and the fat man crossed the street and went into a house further along. Had he
gone to fetch Moriarty, who would now appear and kill my friend?
Slowly and carefully, I made my way into the yard. It was dark, but I could see a light at a window. Then I heard Holmes's voice. He was in that room.
As quietly as I could, I went to the window. The curtains were a little too short, and I could just see into the room. The woman was lying on the bed, drinking from a bottle. Holmes sat with his back to the window, taking snuff from a little silver box. He seemed to be in no danger, but who could say when Moriarty would arrive?
It was cold and wet in the yard, but I felt calm again. If Moriarty came, I was ready to save my friend. I sat down with my back to the wall to wait.
I am ashamed to say what happened next, but I must say it. I fell asleep. I was asleep for two hours. As I woke up, cold and uncomfortable, Holmes's words came back to me, 'He will kill twice tonight.'
I ran to the window, afraid of what I should see. At first I could not understand what terrible thing had happened there. Was it possible, I wondered, for a person to explode? There was blood everywhere. Then I recognized the body as the woman who I had seen drinking and talking with Sherlock Holmes. He was still with her, bur he was not dead. No, much worse than dead. He was alive. He had a knife in his hand, and he was cutting up her face and her body. Even as I watched, he was carefully cutting the leg down to the bone, taking off a long piece of meat in his other hand.
And as he cut the woman to pieces, he was singing .