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his treasure. Polly began to wander through the small shop and the pawnbroker’s wife followed close on her heels. ‘Touch nuffink,’ the woman growled in a distinctly Cockney accent, ‘if ye know what’s good for yer.’

‘Just looking,’ said Polly. ‘No trouble, ma’am.’

‘Nuffink, hear me?’ the woman repeated, slightly jiggling the stick at her side.

Holmes laid the watch out on the velvet cloth. The pawnbroker took out a loupe and leaned in to examine it.

‘Got it! Both of ’em!’ cried Polly from across the room.

Holmes looked up, scooped up his watch and crossed over to Polly. I followed. She pointed to a locked case in which were a wide variety of jewelled rings. ‘Those two,’ said she. ‘The big diamond one, there, with the two emeralds – that’s from Mr Eden-Summers. And the littler one with the sapphire is Mr Vitale’s.’

‘You’re sure, Polly?’ asked Holmes.

‘As sure as this lady thinks we’re about to steal ’em.’

Indeed, the woman now held her stick aloft and ready to strike, and her husband appeared behind her, now pointing a gun at the three of us.

‘Hold your stick, please, madam. And sir, be assured,’ said Holmes, ‘we mean you no harm.’ Holmes raised his hands and nodded to Polly and me. We followed suit. The woman lowered her stick, but her husband kept his gun trained on us, or rather on Holmes specifically.

‘This is as I thought,’ said my friend. ‘Dillie had planned this all along, to fund her escape. May I see these two rings please, sir?’ asked Holmes. He began slowly to lower his hands.

The pawnbroker hesitated but did not lower his gun. ‘You buying or you selling?’

‘I am buying,’ said Holmes, clipping his watch back onto its chain and replacing it in his pocket.

‘Vat is this all about?’

‘I would like to purchase information from you, sir. There is a young woman who I believe has been bringing in items, including these, to your shop. I would estimate she has been doing this over the last year.’

‘Year and a half, more like,’ said Polly.

‘I wish you had mentioned this before,’ said Holmes.

‘She weren’t dead before.’

‘Dead?’ exclaimed Mrs Flan. ‘Piotr! This is a police matter!’ She raised her stick menacingly. ‘You three! Out!’

‘Calm yourself, Luisa! People die. That’s life.’

A philosopher! I suppressed a grin, catching Holmes’s sidelong glance at me.

The man turned to Holmes. ‘I don’t gossip about my customers,’ rasped the old man. ‘Otherwise I vould have no customers.’

‘Understood,’ said Holmes. ‘But I am prepared to buy this information from you. There is no threat implied, you obviously run an honest business. Here is a picture of the young lady.’ From his pocket he removed a daguerreotype of Odelia Wyndham.

‘Where did you get that?’ I asked, surprised.

‘Freddie was kind enough to lend it to me,’ he said. ‘Without his knowledge.’ A little smile.

The old man eyed the picture. ‘I am not sure. I may have seen her. May have not.’

There was a long pause.

Holmes took out two sovereigns and laid them on the counter. The man pushed them back towards Holmes.

‘No. I am still not sure.’

Holmes frowned. ‘Watson?’

I reached into my pocket. I found a five-pound note I was carrying and reluctantly added it to Holmes’s coins on the counter. The man’s face melted into what passed for a smile.

‘I remember now! Yes, she has pawned six items here. Three have sold. I can show you the other three,’ said Mr Flan. ‘Luisa, the diamond earrings in case six.’ He nodded towards his wife. ‘And that gold bracelet vith a seahorse …’

‘I am only interested in these two rings,’ said Holmes, leading Flan to the case where Dillie’s two engagement rings sat.

‘Girl in the picture did not pawn those.’

‘Are you quite sure?’

‘Positive. They only just came in – last night, vasn’t it, Luisa?’

‘I don’t trust these ’ere people,’ said his wife, eyeing us malevolently.

She was right to be suspicious of us. Holmes was certainly lying by omission.

‘Last night? Who brought them, then?’ asked Holmes.

The man hesitated, and glanced from Holmes to me and back again, estimating his chances. He smiled. ‘I am not sure.’

We exchanged a look. Then we both reached deep into our pockets, and between us found only a few additional coins. We laid them on the glass case containing the two engagement rings. The man paused, then shook his head.

‘This is all I have. I am not a wealthy man,’ said Holmes.

Flan waved his fingers at Holmes’s gold chain and watch.

My friend sighed. ‘All right. I will not give it, but will pawn it, and pay you from the fee. How much will you loan me for it?’

‘Five.’

Holmes swallowed. ‘It is worth much more. You make this difficult.’

The man shrugged.

‘All right, then. You won’t sell my watch, then?’ said Holmes, anxiously. ‘I will be back for it, you can be sure.’

The man shrugged. ‘That is vat they all say.’

Holmes placed his watch on the velvet cloth. Flan took up the watch without even looking at it again and pocketed it with a small grin of satisfaction. He handed Holmes a five-pound note.

Holmes took it, sighed, then handed back the five-pound note he had just been given.

The pawnbroker pocketed that as well. This put the fellow twelve pounds and Holmes’s good watch ahead. We had nothing more to offer, and I hoped he would cooperate.

‘A young man. Came and pawned them in the middle of the night. Last night.’

‘A young man?’ I exclaimed.

‘Can you describe him, please?’ said Holmes.

‘Twenties. Fair hair. All curly. Gold-rimmed spectacles. Nice ones.’

Deacon Buttons! It must have been! Even Holmes looked surprised. We exchanged a look.

Never one to assume, Holmes pressed on. ‘Tall?’

‘Fairly so.’

‘Awkward looking, or a handsome man?’

‘Both. A good-looking young man. But something about him. Shy, perhaps.’

‘Small gold ring on the left fifth finger?’ asked Holmes.

‘Yes. He tried to pawn that, too, but vould not take my offer.’

It was definitely Deacon Buttons.

‘Understandable. At what time was this?’

The man shrugged.

‘Three-thirty in the mornin’,’ said his wife.

‘Was he wearing a cleric’s collar by chance?’ asked Holmes.

‘No.’

‘I would have

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