gabled roof and curved, ornate brass decorations. It was the largest and finest along his street, and did nothing to disprove Holmes's theory.
Madame Lestrade was a stout, handsome woman, her accent so thick I could scarcely recognize that we spoke the same tongue. She greeted us warmly and then retired to the kitchen, where we could hear her instructing her two menservants in hushed, urgent tones.
"My cousin cabled me," Lestrade said, "that you think O Jacar茅 rustled up an attack on a European ship? All to kidnap Janus and Harvey Holingbroke?" He clucked his tongue dismissively.
"I'll admit that it seems rather elaborate," Holmes said. "Yet the facts support it." He described the evidence in detail. By the time he was finished, the servants had dished up the promised 茅touff茅e. It was a dish of shrimp, peppers, onions, rice, and spices so flavorful and fiery that I feared poison, yet Holmes dug into it with relish.
"Even saying that someone from our city did this," Lestrade said. "Why suspect O Jacar茅?"
Holmes arched an eyebrow. "Oh, come now, Lestrade," he said. "Jacar茅 is the current heir apparent to St. Diable. Every strand of crime committed in and from this city leads into a web, with Jacar茅 the spider at its center. It could be no one else."
"But why?"
Holmes took another spoonful of 茅touff茅e, then dabbed at his lips with his napkin. "I was hoping, deputy chief, that you could tell me. Do they hold some sort of power over him?"
"Janus and Harvey? Nah. They could shoot him, I suppose. They're real good at that. But they'd have to find him first, and he's a slippery one."
"You know the Holingbrokes, then?"
"Oh, sure. They're real popular, them, despite being a couple of freaks."
"Popular enough that he might prefer it not be known that he engineered an attack on them?"
Lestrade shrugged. "Maybe," he said. "They're charming, and near rich as Rockefeller."
"The gold?"
"Sure. They found a mountain of it out in California a while back."
"And their fortune is kept in a bank?"
Lestrade shifted uncomfortably. He looked toward the kitchen and snapped, "Them sausages coming out anytime soon?" He pushed his plate away. "Nah," he said. "Every once in a while, they show up with a new gold bar. Got their stash hidden away somewhere good."
Holmes smiled with satisfaction. "Motive enough," he said.
"You don't understand. O Jacar茅, he doesn't need money, not that bad. He got more than he can spend."
"I understand him better than you might think," Holmes said. "It is not the gold he seeks, but the satisfaction of the mystery solved."
It was late when Lestrade pulled the hansom up to our inn. The heat hadn't subsided, and I looked forward to a bath and sleep.
"You still want to search for O Jacar茅 tomorrow," Lestrade said, "come down to the station and I'll help you as I can. Like as not, though, if he has them, they'll be dead."
Holmes stepped out of the cab. "We followed quickly on the heels of whatever ship Jacar茅 sent to Europe," he said. "They only need to hold out against his scrutiny for a short time. And I have set things in motion." He turned to me. "What time is it, Watson?"
I consulted my watch. "A quarter past ten o'clock."
"Ah, then. They shall be free by midnight."
Lestrade gaped. "You know where they are, then?"
Holmes smiled. "An assistant of mine does," he said. "He shall take care of the details on our behalf." He bowed slightly. "Good night, deputy chief."
Lestrade looked shaken as he climbed back into his carriage and snapped the reins.
"Holmes!" I said, watching Lestrade depart. "Who is this assistant you're referring to?"
Holmes walked briskly down the street. "Why, Lestrade himself, of course," he said. "He clearly knows where the brothers are being held and is now rushing to verify they are still secure. Hurry, Watson! The game is afoot!"
Holmes, it transpired, had arranged for a carriage of our own to be kept waiting just around the corner from our inn. It was a nondescript brown vehicle similar to many we'd passed on the streets earlier in the day. "Climb in and slump down, Watson," Holmes said, unhitching our horse from its post and patting the creature affectionately on the withers. "It's vital Lestrade not recognize us." He slipped on a porkpie hat and hunched his shoulders, and had I not seen the transformation or been sitting right beside him, I would have never suspected that the man beside me was my old friend. He clucked his tongue and