In the great city of London there are places where one would not be surprised to find the amateur detective of which you are now well acquainted. Therefore seeing him perched oddly above the detached carriage-house of the late Henry Cornell, Member of the House of Lords and enthused gambler.

"What are you doing up there?" I called.

"There is something of note here." His keen eyes track across the roofing in an erratic pattern. "Climb up, Watson. You are a keen pupil."

I maneuvered with some difficultly. The injury sustained in Afghanistan felt stiff and unwieldy. My arm could not be raised more than a half foot. Holmes did not watch my progress. Instead he smoked heavily.

Upon the rough surface I walked. He barred my passage with in outstretched arm.

"There," I pointed, "is ash. The colour and clumping suggest it was dumped after the air."

"According to the boy I spoke to up the street the rain stopped before midnight." Holmes ground out the smoke. He had the lean look of a fox dog. Not attractive but full of a savage joy only found in hunting. "Anything else?"

I cast about. "Nothing!"

"There are marks in the surface of the pitch. There," he gestured to a series of faint marks.

"What are those from?"

"I must take a closer look." He strode across the rooftop. I followed stiffly. The distance between where we stood and the second floor were scant. A window was clearly broken. I peer below. The stones were slick.

"That would be a difficult climb."

"Fit for an explore, I imagine."

I laughed. "Your fancies are too much for me, sometimes, dear friend."

He smiled in his small way. "You have those yourself. Take those stories. You make my clear science into something from the occult."

"It brings you clients." I was used to this argument. It was habit to do this.

But his reply was different this time. "And other things besides."

"What else?"

But he picked up another scent. We hurdled though the underbelly of Kings' Road. The fog was thick when we came to the lodging of Sir Danel Woolstent. A former employ of the late parliamentarian, his resume lent itself to scrutiny.

"I did spend some time in the deserts of Africa." He was of height to Holmes but quite broad. I noticed the tremor of that dreaded river fever. It would be hard but not impossible to kill a man with shaking hands.

"Are you skilled at climbing?" I asked.

Alas I tipped our hand too soon. Woolstent ran from the room. Holmes and I clattered down after him. Somewhere is the swirling mass of people he vanished.

Holmes was quiet in the carriage as we returned to our lodgings. The supper was cold meat and hard bread. Afterwards he lit his pipe.

"Do not despair Watson. We will catch him."

"If we do not he may never be caught. This madness for a few rough diamonds."

"He will get them cut." The smoke obscured his face. "I know a jeweler who will let me know if such things cross his counter."

There was no more news that night.

The next morning I rose to see a telegram dropped on the floor of the sitting room. It had been torn open.

STONES HERE STOP HURRY STOP

It had arrived hours ago. Why was I not roused?

I rung the bell. "Mrs. Hudson! Where has Holmes gone off to?"

I could not wait and she came to me as I was putting my shoes on.

"He is in the Jewish Quarter."

The hansom clattered at high speed. I hoped I would get there in time.

Holmes and the African explorer were already gone.

The man kept wiping his lenses. "He was going to the scoundrel to the police."

The deed done I went home. Holmes arrived soon after. He appeared to have lost a fight.

"What the devil happened to you?"

"The devil indeed!" He threw himself into an armchair. "The man got loose and tried to beat me to death. I don't imagine he missed these." The diamonds were sitting in Holmes' palm. he waved off my concern. "Just a slight of hand. No cause for distress."

"Woolstent?"

"I imagine a man in his state could not get very far. He will be spotted soon enough."

A few weeks later we heard quiet a different ending. The officer stood in front of Holmes and I, hat in hand.

"He was found in a crate by the docks. The lady of the house recognised a distinctive tattoo."

"How odd." I said.

Holmes shrugged. "I imagine that whoever he was going to sell the diamonds to was disappointing when he failed to show them."

"That is very reasonable." The policeman did not leave. "There was something else."

"Oh?"

"For the report - how did the man reach the window?"

"What do you imagine Watson?"

"I think he might have jumped. The distance was short and he was physically skilled."

"Quite true. That is possible. Yet, there were marks on the roof."

"The nails in his shoes were visible. Damage is possible."

Holmes closed his eyes. When he spoke he addressed the policeman. "Please speak to the homes nearby. One of them is missing a hedge ladder. There is your means of entry."

After lunch I mused, "It is quite convenient that Woolstent was found at the docks."

Holmes lit his pipe. There was another of his small smiles. "Sometimes providence is done tough human hands. Now, are you free this evening? There is a new work out of Russia being preformed by Alard. We have a box."

"I'd be delighted."