The Bishop had left us somewhat reluctantly and, from our rooms, we saw him hail a cab in the street below. We could only hope that he would play his part in this grand deception.
We sat for a while, each in our own thoughts and smoked a pipe of tobacco. Holmes sat back in his favourite leather armchair and it was clear from his countenance that he was considering what options were open to him. “Describe to me, if you will Watson, the locations of the rooms at Old Burlington Street.”
I sat and thought for a moment, trying to visualise the rooms that I had visited. “Well, as you enter the establishment, you find yourself in the waiting room. To the left is the office from where Mrs Withers appeared. To the right there are two other rooms which appear to be identical, 'treatment' rooms. It was into one of these I was shown. I believe, from my conversation with Nurse Susan, that there are similar rooms upstairs.”
Holmes pursed his lips. “It is the office of Mrs Withers that is of interest to me. I'm afraid you may be required to put on a bit of a show, old chap... nothing spectacular, but sufficient to attract and hold the attention of Mrs Withers.”
I held my tongue but the thought of returning to Mrs Withers’ establishment was one I did not relish.
We waited until the following day before venturing out towards Old Burlington Street. Holmes had selected several items from his collection of burglar's tools and had placed them in his coat pockets.
We hailed a Hansom and once again I asked the cabbie to stop in Saville Row and, together, we walked the last few yards. “This is it Holmes. Mrs Withers’ establishment is on the first floor.”
Just as we were climbing the steps, a tall, distinguished figure swept past us. I looked at Holmes and was about to ask him to confirm the identity of the person I had recognised when Holmes held up his hand. I realised then that discretion in this matter was everything.
Climbing the stairs to the first floor we approached the door. As I reached out to knock, Holmes caught my sleeve, saying, “I shall follow in three or four minutes, giving you time to discuss your needs and for Mrs Withers to take you into the treatment room.”
I saw the smile on Holmes’ face. I was sure that he was gaining enormous pleasure from my discomfort in this matter. I knocked and waited. A few moments later the door was once again opened by the maid and I was invited inside.
Mrs Withers was already in the waiting room and it was plain that she was most pleased to see that I had returned. “Good morning, sir. How pleasant to see you again. Is the shoulder still bothering you?”
I touched my hat saying “Yes, Mrs Withers. I would like to consult you about it and have the 'Bain de Luxe', if I may?”
Once again Mrs Withers beamed at my request. “Of course, sir… and would you be requiring Nurse Susan?” she enquired.
I nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, I found her massage most beneficial during my last visit.”
Leading the way, Mrs Withers took me into the treatment room and, once there, she entered the bathroom. Clouds of steam again rolled from the bathroom bringing the scent of pine which filled the air as she ran my bath. It was at that moment that I panicked. I had forgotten to relate, in my narrative to Holmes, that Mrs Withers had left for a few minutes whilst I undressed and climbed into the bath. I heard the water stop running and she entered the treatment room saying, “Right then, sir. I will leave you for a few moments whilst you undress.”
She had her hand on the door and was opening it as I cried, “Wait!” She turned towards me and I saw, to my horror, through the opening door, the figure of Holmes entering the waiting room. “I...I...err...I'm having some difficulty undressing, due to my shoulder. I wonder if you would mind helping me, Mrs Withers.”
I gave her what I hoped would be a helpless smile. She gave me a knowing look, saying, “Why of course sir, I'm always available to assist a gentlemen out of his clothes and into the bath” and she gave my arm a squeeze.
Even though I am a professional man, used to having to examine my patients and sometimes help them disrobe, I am, at best, a reluctant patient. We struggled with my clothes for a few minutes with me feigning difficulty with my shoulder but soon I was naked. I held out my arm and she assisted me as I climbed into the bath and sat down.
At this point, she turned to leave. I was sure that Holmes had not had sufficient time to accomplish his task so I had to try and delay Mrs Withers further. “Pray, don't leave Mrs Withers. I...I am in need of your attentions for my bathing also. Of course, I would be willing to pay a little extra for your expertise in these matters.”
Mrs Withers gave me a wink, saying, “Of course sir, allow me.” and, taking up a loofa, she began to wash my back.
After ten excruciating minutes, not one part of me had been left untouched. I felt defiled! However, I smiled as she dried me and I indicated that Nurse Susan would not be required as the assisted bathing had relaxed me sufficiently. Mrs Withers helped me dress and we returned, once more, to the waiting room.
“Right, sir. That will be twenty-five shillings to cover the little extra attention.” She smiled sweetly and I gave her a sovereign and two half crowns. I touched my hat, said goodbye and hurried down the stairs.