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expression.
    "Our attention is not only
directed to Dowson and the Nonpareil Club, which now serves as the
Baron's headquarters, but we are clued in to the fact that Slim
Gilligan might provide a key to what the late Barker found."
    My mouth was but half-open when
Homes antici pated
me.
    "I have already been to
Gilligan's Lock and Key Shop
and he is not on the premises. The establishment is manned by a
friend of his, but I have reason to be lieve
that Slim will get in touch with us in the immediate future."
    "Could the cracksman be
hiding out in fear of the same
fate that befell Barker?"
    "The possibility crossed my
mind. But Slim will ap pear,
of that I am sure. Meanwhile, I have some, shall we
say, staff work to do. We are in need of more information before
progressing further in this affair."
    I had a few house calls to make
and was not loath to leave
since I well knew that I could be of no assistance at
this point in the case. Holmes encouraged me to continue my
medical practice in a somewhat limited manner. When I protested
that I was merely a part-time practitioner,
he assured me that my calls on the habi tues
of Mayfair frequently resulted in bits of gossip and information
that were of considerable interest to him. As
to whether he was completely sincere regarding this I
could not say. Possibly he just wanted to make me feel useful or,
perhaps, my medical duties provided him with breathing
space should he wish to work alone. During my
absence on this day, I knew he would be following his
usual procedure. The web that my friend had spun spread
over London was sensitive to the slightest tug of an unusual
incident. Terminating at 221B Baker Street, this
unofficial information machine had ears glued to doors
and eyes to keyholes. Hansom drivers, shop keepers,
and commissionaires vied with government ministers, industrial
tycoons and eminent attorneys in feeding
information into this grist mill, which spewed forth
information that Sherlock Holmes's retentive brain devoured.
What type of relay system serviced this un usual
mechanism I could not imagine, but little happened among
the six million of the great city that my friend was
not privy to in short order.
    It was later than I had
anticipated when I returned to our chambers. The day had been clear
though cold and the
fog of the previous evening had retreated to the Thames.
As I looked at the warm lights that beckoned the
homeward-bound I thought of Holmes's remark years
before about a magical flight over the great city and
the fact that if the roofs could be removed one would
view a vast tapestry of love, hate, and passion, along
with incidents that would make The
Thousand and One
Nights of
Scheherazade seem like a child's primer on
unusual events. The sleuth was a great believer that man
was the most fascinating and unpredictable of all the
creations in the universe and, considering our adventures
throughout the years, who was I to deny this theory?

    When I reentered our chambers, I
found my eccen tric
friend pacing the floor of our sitting room and emit ting
clouds of acrid smoke from the pipe he fancied when
dealing with a baffling problem. His manner was almost
abrupt as he indicated a single place set at the table.
    "I had Mrs. Hudson prepare a
sandwich for you, old friend, and there's stout to wash it down
with."
    Realizing that Holmes was bent on
action, I swiftly removed
my great coat and followed his instructions. As I
devoured the roast beef sandwich, Holmes selected a walking
stick from his collection, speaking all the time to
fill me in.
    "My investigations of the
afternoon have not been singularly productive, so we are forced to
abandon the realm of speculation in favor of frontal assault. I must
inform you that Lindquist died in his quarters at midday."
    I half-choked on a mouthful of
stout. "Murdered?"
    Holmes shook his head negatively.
"Considering his condition,
it is amazing the man lasted as long as he did.
However, as he pointed out, dedication is a