In the first part of my narrative I gave a full, frank and most disturbing account of the problem that had been laid before my eminent friend, Mr Sherlock Holmes. I cannot bear to write it again so, if you have not already made yourself aware of the incredibly delicate matter in which I was involved I would suggest that you first read Part 1 of this account.
I had some small practice matters to attend to during the day and went about these as best I could in my state of shocked distraction. The image of Miss Torrington standing naked in my friend's sitting room while he examined the strange piercings that had been attached to her body while she had been drugged was never far from my mind. In the early evening I called back to my house to retrieve my old Army revolver as instructed and arrived at Baker Street a little before the arranged time of 7 o'clock. Mrs Hudson informed me that Holmes had gone out and that he had left word for me to wait in the sitting room for him. Mrs Hudson had already laid out a cold supper for two and hot coffee which I started to consume while I waited. Holmes arrived back at precisely 7 o'clock, dropping his hat and cane onto the sofa and throwing himself into his chair by the fire. He said nothing until he had retrieved his pipe from its resting place on the mantle and filled and lit it.
'I have had a most instructional day Watson; I believe that the outline facts of the matter are quite clear to me, quite clear. It is a most unfortunate case, one of the most shocking we have had reason to deal with. It remains only to fill in a few remaining details and then I shall be ready to wrap the whole business up.'
'So the wedding is secure?' I asked with excitement.
'It is too early to tell, some things still lie in the balance. I see Mrs Hudson has left us a fine supper. Let us take half an hour to eat our fill and then we will venture out into the grim underbelly of this most refined of cities Watson. All life is here if you look far enough beneath the surface.'
We consumed our fill of the excellent supper then wrapped up in warm clothing and hailed a passing hansom cab.
'When I examined the knot of rings that Miss Torrington had been adorned with I was immediately reminded of an artefact known in England as a puzzle ring,' my friend explained as we clattered through the darkened streets of the town, 'Puzzle rings were designed by the expert metalworkers of the orient and, when they sit on a woman's finger they look like nothing more than an intricately designed piece of jewellery but should they be removed from the finger they immediately fall apart and become a loose collection of rings which, unless the specific correct technique is employed, cannot be made to fit upon the finger once more. They were used by jealous husbands to dissuade errant wives from removing their wedding bands to attract treacherous adulterers.'
'And you think that this is what our unknown fiend has had inserted into Miss Torrington?' I asked incredulously.
'Something similar I believe. There have also been stories that the great harem keepers of the Arabian states had similar ornaments made that meant that any tampering of their concubines would be immediately noticeable. It is this variation of the puzzle ring which I think has been employed here.'
'Astounding! So we are looking for some sort of Arabian scoundrel, some foreign blackmailer.'
'Not necessarily Watson. This afternoon I spent a most enlightening few hours in the jewellers' quarter of the city and managed to ascertain that only four jewellers in the whole of London produce puzzle rings in the oriental style. Of course, none of these would dare admit to making an Arabian device of the kind we are most interested in but I'm sure the knowledge would be there for the right price. This means that the ornaments could well have been made in London. My next line of enquiry is to find out who carried out the procedure. A backstreet vendor of piercings is liable to be more readily influenced to betray his clientele than a well-to-do goldsmith I think. To trace our man however, we will have to liaise with some of our more colourful fellow citizens. You did remember your revolver didn't you?'
I pulled the butt of my pistol from its hiding place beneath my coat so that my friend could see it and then replaced it securely. He nodded and then sat back in the cab and held his hands up in front of his mouth, the palms pressed together and the tips of his long middle fingers resting under the tip of his long nose. His eyelids half closed and I recognised that he was again running everything through his brain, leaving no mental avenue unexplored. It was my signal to remain quiet and I looked out onto the streets of the capital city. The odd wisp of fog hung around the gas lanterns that were becoming farther between now that we were moving into the poorer areas of town. The ruts in the streets became more frequent and I unconsciously drew my coat tighter against the imagined monstrosities that lurked in the darker alleys that ran off at angles from the main thoroughfare.
Suddenly Holmes sprang forward in his seat and with his siler handled cane rapped twice on the underside of the cab roof.
'Here will do driver!'
We opened the doors and stepped down. My friend paid the driver and told him that we did not wish him to wait for us and, with a relieved look, the driver turned the cab around in the street and headed back the way we came.
'Come Watson, we have some ladies to interview.' He said in his clipped and sharp manner of speech and then he headed off down one of the dark alleys with a flourish from his cape as he turned. I looked about me quickly once then followed on his heels.
The alley proved to be mercilessly short although the stench stayed in my nostrils for some time after we had exited onto a wider street that seemed to run parallel to the main street that we had arrived upon. The sound of raucous laughter and a badly tuned and played piano rattled off the closely packed walls of the half derelict dwellings that lined the streets and it was towards this sound that Holmes walked in the sprightly gait that he used when excitedly following a scent. The glow of gaslight through a smoke stained window at the far end of the street marked out the tavern from where the riotous cacophony came but to my surprise Holmes continued past the door and headed towards a young woman stood in the doorway of a warehouse next door. As I approached I realised that he was actually talking to an older woman who was stood behind the girl and as I drew closer I was amazed when, in the middle of his conversation he turned and indicated me by pointing with his cane. Before I could react he had turned back to the woman and was showing her something. She shook her head and my friend doffed his hat and continued on. As I passed the woman I was aware that she was giving me a very queer look indeed.
