As we walked down the steps from Bow Street, I said, “So Moriarty was there to meet the train?”
Holmes nodded. “Yes, she wanted to have eyes on her gold. We must make plans, Watson. I must speak to Mycroft so that he might exert a little influence on Lestrade to release Tindall into my custody. At the moment, Moriarty is unaware of his arrest. We must somehow let her think that there is a way to bribe Tindall into silence.”
As we stood and waited for a cab, I thought about what Holmes had said, asking, “Will that not be dangerous for Tindall?”
Holmes had a grim look upon his face as he said, “Perhaps, but not as dangerous as a hangman’s noose, Watson!”
We arrived back in Baker Street in time for a fine dinner of grilled lamb chops followed by a slice from one of Mrs Hudson’s steamed, sponge puddings, which was served with vanilla custard.
Sitting back, replete, with our first pipe of the evening, I thought back to William Tindall and raised a point with Holmes, saying, “As there has been no second explosion, Moriarty will have been to Liverpool Street to search for Tindall. I was wondering whether, perhaps, his absence from work might be accounted for by his going into hiding after he had opened the bag and found the bomb.”
Holmes had his eyes slightly closed and seemed to be considering my suggestion. Blowing out a thin stream of blue tobacco smoke he nodded, saying, “Yes, that would be a plausible explanation, Watson. It is how we make contact with Moriarty that troubles me.” Holmes was silent for perhaps two minutes before continuing, “Perhaps… perhaps a way might be to put a small announcement in ‘The Times’, saying that Tindall had sought my protection. Moriarty would undoubtedly find it irresistible! I must pen my notice with care, Watson.”
Holmes moved to his desk and took up a sheet of writing paper and a pen. He sat and smoked for perhaps some ten minutes whilst making corrections and improvements to the text before finally sitting back, satisfied.
"What do you think of this, Watson?" asked Holmes. "Mr William Tindall is thankfully safe and well, chaperoned by those at 221b. He wishes to discuss an unpaid account and desires a mutually beneficial meeting."
I thought for a moment and, whilst agreeing with the majority of the content, I was still concerned. "That should bring her from her lair, Holmes, but it gives her the choice of venue for the meeting."
Holmes nodded, saying, "That is true… but it has to be somewhere that is agreeable to both parties. If we are not satisfied, we do not have to agree."
Holmes now set about making a clean copy of the text. This he placed in an envelope and then rang the bell for Mrs Hudson.
The following morning I was eager to scan the personal column of 'The Times' but I found that Holmes was already seated in his leather armchair with his head buried in the paper. Hearing my entrance into the room, Holmes called out, "Well, the bait is in the water, Watson. We will have to pay out a little line and see who bites!"
Indeed, we did not have long to wait. In the afternoon our doorbell rang, followed a few moments later by Mrs Hudson entering our rooms holding a letter. She handed it to Holmes, saying, "This was delivered by hand, just now, sir, by some surly brute who would not give a name. He said that you would be expecting it."
Holmes smiled sweetly, saying, "Thank you, Mrs Hudson, indeed I was."
Holmes did not open the letter immediately. Taking out his glass, he examined the envelope minutely. I could see that the name 'Mr Sherlock Holmes' had been written across the front of the envelope in a hand that I was becoming uncomfortably familiar with.
Seeing that there was nothing more to be gleaned from the envelope, Holmes carefully opened it with his fine, Italian, stiletto, a memento from the Cagliari affair. Taking out the single sheet of paper from within, he read its contents. He then removed three, pale blue tickets from the envelope before sitting back in silence for several minutes.
I could stand it no longer and implored Holmes to reveal the contents of the letter. Still somewhat distracted, Holmes held it out before him, saying, "It would seem that we are invited on a train journey to Brighton, Watson!"
"What?" I cried, for I could not believe my own ears! I took the letter from Holmes and read aloud, "Mr Holmes, our paths cross again. Tindall is indeed in my employ and, as you say, requires payment. Knowing your affection for trains, I have reserved seats in the first class carriage of the Brighton train leaving Victoria Station at half-past seven tomorrow evening. You will, of course, be watched at the station and, whilst you are an honourable man, Mr Holmes, Tindall is to sit in a position such that I may be sure that it is truly he. No police must board or be present on the train. Payment will be made during the journey." The letter was signed with the initials, 'J M'.
"Impossible!" I raged. "It must be a trap! We cannot go!"
Holmes was clearly intrigued. "Of course it is, Watson, but of what kind? That is what we have to determine! The key issue is, of course, the seating arrangements. Why would she want us in a particular carriage and, perhaps, in a particular compartment?” Holmes held his forefinger to his lips, saying, “I see the reason why she must confirm Tindall’s identity but... another bomb!"