The next morning we met Colonel Moran in his rooms on Conduit Street. He lived in a very comfortable style, his rooms arranged with a military orderliness, adorned with pelts and artefacts and other trophies of an illustrious career in India. A maid greeted us at the door, and showed us into the front room, where we were greeted by the colonel.

He pressed Irene's hand. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Norton."

Irene curtsied.

The colonel dismissed the maid and led us into the parlour, shutting the door behind us.

Once we were all seated, Colonel Moran turned his hard gaze on Irene. "What do you have to report?"

"I'm afraid we've hardly had time to scratch the surface," Irene demurred.

The colonel remained silent, waiting impatiently for her to continue.

"It is a slow, delicate process, particularly for outsiders such as Godfrey and myself, and I am hardly a professional. I rather hoped the person whom you represent, who is necessarily closer to the matter, might be able to provide some invaluable insight."

"I have of course already provided what insight they have to offer, and discretion forbids any further involvement. I expect you are more than capable of managing without."

"I fear there is little we can do. Mr. Holmes appears to be as private and solitary a gentleman as Dr. Watson's stories suggest."

I doubted Irene would goad the colonel without some aims, but what they were I could not discern - if Irene meant to refuse the errand, surely she would have done so before we departed for London.

"What of Dr. Watson?" Colonel Moran demanded.

"I have not yet had the pleasure of making his acquaintance, but he appears to be an ordinary gentleman, occupied primarily with his work and his wife, though he was once very close to Mr. Holmes, as a fellow-lodger must be."

"And now?"

"Only the occasional letter."

The colonel gave Irene a pointed look. "Which I expect would be highly informative."

Irene's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Colonel, do you mean to suggest?"

"Nothing worse than Mr. Holmes himself has done. In the interim, who have you been able to meet? Were you able to glean anything from Mr. Mycroft Holmes?"

"So, you are keeping an eye on us. Unfortunately, we paid the cost of insufficient information, and discovered the hard way that he is much more than a mere civil servant, with abilities to match those of his famed brother."

"Who he, of course, wanted to protect?" Colonel Moran pressed.

Irene shrugged. "He mentioned Dr. Watson, but had little more to tell us."

"You also spoke with your landlady?"

"Yes, she has been very kind to us. I could now give you all the comings and goings from Baker Street in the past month, but I fear it would mean little to you. Mr. Holmes has many clients, including particularly some men of the Yard, but few linger, and he goes out infrequently, though he has many disguises. It is not an easy task you've given us."

"You seem to have plenty of leads. I expect you will do fine if you do not allow yourself to be distracted."

Irene pounced on the suggestion. "Distracted by what?"

"Overcomplicating what should be a straightforward matter."

"With a man like Mr. Sherlock Holmes, are things ever simple?"

"You of all people should know that he is only a man. Do you have anything else to report?"

"No, it's hardly been a few days, after all."

"I expect you will have more when we meet again." The colonel stood to see us out. "You will do me the honour of coming again for tea three days from now."

"Certainly."

Irene allowed him to press her hand again, and he showed us to the door.

As soon as we were back out on the street, before I had a chance to comment on the interview with our employer, Irene declared cheerfully, "I believe an early lunch is in order!"

She would say no more upon the subject of the meeting or our destination, only that our luncheon would fit the theme of our little holiday. However, we did not have far to go through the most fashionable of neighbourhoods, before we came upon the ornate stone facade of the Criterion, and Irene and I stepped into a rich, gilded dining hall, with a bar embedded into the near wall, framed by immense columns. A crowd of men of all ages stood about the tables, talking among themselves in a cacophonous buzz.

We passed deeper into the restaurant to find a table for two, where we could sit and eat as an innocuous pair of tourists. We were far from the only visitors who had come to lunch amidst the extraordinary opulence of the British Empire. Perhaps they had been drawn there, as we had been, by its notoriety as the place where Dr. Watson met the friend who had introduced him to Mr. Holmes.

It was an excellent lunch, but Irene was preoccupied.

"You know you are under no obligation to Colonel Moran," I remarked.

She shook her head. "I don't trust him, of course, but at the moment we're the ones with him at a disadvantage. He plainly needs us much more than we are beholden to him. What I don't understand is why. I've made more progress than he could have reasonably expected in two days, and I goaded him some, I confess, to draw out some suggestion of what he's really after, but I still cannot see the cause for such urgency."

I lowered my voice. "Do you think Mrs. Watson is seeking a divorce?"

"Colonel Moran did seem to be particularly interested in Dr. Watson, but it would be unlike her, and if all she needed was her husbands' letters, then it would be easier for her to take them herself than to involve us."

"Yes, I doubt it would earn the judge's favour if it came out that she had practically hired a pair of burglars."

"Mere burglars?" Irene protested with a grin.

"In the eyes of the law, if you do mean to steal one of Dr. Watson's letters."

"I hope it won't come to that, but I would hope we can count on Dr. Watson's discretion in any case. Mr. Mycroft Holmes certainly seems to think so."

"Unless Mr. Holmes assumes it wouldn't come to that."

Irene nodded, already lost in thought. "Mr. Holmes must have some reason to be so unconcerned despite his warnings, but only a serious matter would drive the colonel to such urgency. And all that money must come from somewhere… Perhaps the men of the Yard will be able to shed some light on at least one of our little mysteries."