Pushing away what must have been the hundredth newspaper I had examined that night, I rubbed my tired eyes. "Holmes, it's one in the morning. Can we stop this now? The papers will still be here tomorrow."

Holmes waved an airy hand at me, still caught up in his feverish excitement. "Sleep can wait, Watson. We have a criminal to catch! Once we find the message she's transmitting, we'll know which necklace she'll be after next."

"And what if she hasn't placed her message yet? She did steal another necklace just this morning." I yawned, placing my pen beside my discarded paper. "We can look again in tomorrow's paper."

Holmes looked up, watching me with a kindly eye. Despite the late hour, he still appeared as bright eyed and eager as when we had started. "Very well, Watson. Go to bed. I'll see you in the morning, and we can look over the remaining papers then."

"And you will sleep as well?" I was no longer as trusting as I once was, too familiar with Holmes' terrible habits when it came to his own health.

"There aren't many more papers left," he prevaricated, and I sighed. Holmes would not be sleeping until all the papers has been searched.

Well, many hands make light work. I picked up my discarded pen, pulling the paper close again. "Once we get through these last few papers, we're both going to bed. Any theorising can wait for tomorrow."

Holmes grinned at me, still looking terribly awake for that hour of the night. "Of course, doctor. I never theorise without facts."