Part 4

Just then taxi arrived. One of men in street ran to open door, then another man pushed him. other men were also pushing and shouting, and fight began. Irene Norton was in middle of it, but Sherlock Holmes ran to help her. Then suddenly he fell to ground, with blood running down his face. Irene Norton hurried to her front door, but she looked back.
‘How kind of him to help me! Is poor man hurt?’ she called.
‘He’s dead,’ cried some voices.
‘No, he’s only hurt,’ cried others.
‘Bring him into sitting-room,’ she said.

Some people carried Holmes into house. I waited outside window and watched. I saw how beautiful Irene Norton was. Then Holmes put up his hand, and I threw smoke-stick into room. Immediately people in street and in house all began to shout “Fire!” very loudly. house was full of smoke. I walked away, and ten minutes later Holmes came to meet me.
‘Well done, Watson,’ he said.
‘Have you got photograph?’ I asked.
‘I know where it is. She showed me,’ he answered.
‘But why did she show you?’

‘It’s easy,’ he said, and laughed. ‘You saw all those people in street? I paid them to help us. It wasn’t real fight and blood wasn’t real. When people shout “Fire!”, woman runs to most important thing in her house, her baby, her gold, or… photograph. Mrs Norton ran to find her photograph, which is in cupboard in sitting-room. I saw it. But I did not take it. Tomorrow we will go to her house with King. We’ll go very early, before she gets up. King himself can take photograph from cupboard. And then we’ll go.’
While Holmes was talking, we were walking home to Baker Street. When we arrived at my friend’s house, young man hurried past us, and said: ‘Good night, Mr Sherlock Holmes.’
‘I’ve heard that voice before,’ said Holmes to me. He looked down street. ‘But who was it?’

next day we went to Irene Norton’s house, with King. old servant opened door. ‘Mr Sherlock Holmes?’ she asked, and smiled.
‘Yes,’ said my friend. He looked very surprised.
‘Mrs Irene Norton and her husband left England this morning. They will never come back to this country.’
‘What?’ cried Holmes, his face white and angry.
‘And what about photograph?’ cried King.
We all hurried into sitting-room. Holmes ran to cupboard and opened it. Inside was photograph, not of Irene Adler and King, but of beautiful Irene alone. There was also letter for Sherlock Holmes. We all read it together.

My dear Mr Sherlock Holmes, You did it very well. I thought that it was real fire, and that you were just kind old man. But after I opened cupboard, I began to think. I knew about famous Sherlock Holmes. I knew your address, and I knew that King had asked you to find photograph. So I quickly dressed as young man and followed you home to Baker Street. I wanted to find out if you really were Sherlock Holmes. I said ‘good night’ to you outside your door!
My husband and I have decided to leave England. Please tell King that I shall not show photograph to anybody. I love my husband and he loves me. And he is better man than King. But here is different photograph. And King can keep this photograph, if he likes.