"They can't find the magistrate, Inspector - it'll be another hour," the sergeant reported, saluting.
"An hour!"
"Where are you going, Doctor?" Lestrade demanded.
"To find Holmes," I growled.
"You can't break in there, I'll have to arrest you for illegal entry!"
"If they kill Holmes before you get there, Lestrade, then I'll return the favour for accomplice to murder!"
The man gaped as I stormed out, heading for the house the Irregulars had already ascertained Holmes was being held in.
At the end of a hall, I heard voices, one I recognized as my friend's. I fumed, hearing the sound of a blow, then a cry of pain. I kicked the lock on the door and it flew open.
"Touch him again, and I'll kill you, I swear it!"
Holmes's bruised face flooded with relief, the two forgers' with rage. One of them suddenly landed a stunning blow to Holmes's head, sending him sprawling upon the floor.
My control snapped, and I believe the police doctor told me later the fellow had the worst concussion he had seen in twenty years.
After I had incapacitated both of them I knelt beside my stunned friend. His eyelids fluttered open and a small grin crossed his face as he spoke hoarsely.
"You simply must learn to control that temper, old boy."