An injection of morphine allowed Watson to stump along beside Irene Adler without too much discomfort, but it didn't ease his irritation with her one whit. "Why on earth did you follow us to that slaughterhouse?" he grumbled.

"I didn't," Irene said serenely. "I got there before you, following one of Reardon's associates. Blackwood lied."

He looked down upon her with suspicion. "You got to Reardon's lodgings before we did too," he recalled. "Why didn't you just tell Holmes where they were?"

Her eyes sparkled as she pushed open the door of the Punchbowl. "What, and spoil all his fun?"