The church was empty except for the three people I’d followed and a clergyman. They were all standing in front of the altar, and the clergyman seemed to be arguing with them. I walked slowly up the side aisle, pretending to be an ordinary churchgoer. To my surprise, the three people at the altar turned to look at me. Then Godfrey Norton came running over."

“‘Thank heavens!’ he exclaimed. ‘You’re just in time. Could you come with me for a moment?’

‘Why?’ I asked.

‘Just come along,’ he said impatiently. ‘We only need you for three minutes, or it won’t be official.’

I was pulled to the altar, and before I knew it, I was mumbling responses and swearing to things I didn’t understand, all while helping with the quick marriage of Irene Adler and Godfrey Norton.”

“You were a witness to their marriage?” I asked, laughing. “How unusual!”

“Indeed!” Holmes agreed. “The clergyman wouldn’t marry them without a witness. My lucky timing saved the bridegroom from having to find someone else on the street.

In just a few minutes, it was all done. I stood there in my dirty stableman’s clothes while the bride and groom thanked me. It was the oddest situation I’ve ever been in. That’s what made me laugh just now.”

Holmes pulled a gold coin from his pocket. “The bride gave me this as a thank you. I’ll wear it on my watch chain to remember today.”

“And what did you do next?” I asked.

“My biggest worry was that they might leave for their honeymoon right away, which would ruin my plans. But at the church door, they went separate ways—he went back to work, and she went home. She said, ‘I’ll drive out in the park at five as usual.’ So I came back here to get ready.”

“What are your plans?”

“Just some cold beef sandwiches and lemonade,” he said, calling Mrs. Hudson. “I’ve been too busy to eat, and I’ll be even busier tonight. By the way, I’ll need your help.”

“I’d be happy to.”

“You don’t mind breaking the law?”

“Not if it’s for a good cause.”

“Well, the cause is excellent!”

“Then I’m in.”

“I knew I could count on you. What do you need me to do?”

Just then, Mrs. Hudson brought in a tray of food.

“I’ll explain,” said Holmes as he started eating. “But I need to talk while I eat since I don’t have much time.”

Holmes checked his watch. “It’s almost five o’clock. In two hours, we need to be at Briony Lodge. Mrs. Irene Norton will be back from her drive at seven, and we need to be there to meet her.”

“And then?”

“Leave that to me. I’ve planned everything. There’s just one rule: don’t get involved. No matter what happens, stay out of it.”

“I need to stay neutral?”

“Yes, do nothing. There might be some minor trouble. Don’t join in. When I’m carried into the house, position yourself by the sitting room window. After four or five minutes, the window will open. Watch for me—I’ll be in the room. When I raise my hand like this, throw this object I’ll give you into the room and shout ‘Fire!’ Do you understand?”

“What’s this thing you’re giving me?” I asked.

“It’s nothing dangerous,” said Holmes, pulling out a long tube. “It’s a smoke rocket that lights itself.”

He handed me the tube, and I put it carefully in my pocket. “Here’s the plan: When you shout ‘Fire!’, many others will join in. Walk to the end of the street, and I’ll meet you there in ten minutes. Is that clear?”

“Absolutely. I stay neutral, watch for your signal at the window, throw the smoke rocket in, shout ‘Fire!’, and then wait for you at the end of the street.”

“Perfect!” Holmes said, finishing his meal and checking his watch. “Now I need to get ready for my role.”

He went into his bedroom and came out ten minutes later dressed as a clergyman. His broad black hat, loose trousers, and white tie looked just right for the part, and his sympathetic smile and earnest expression made him look like a true actor. It was a shame he had left the stage to fight crime.

We left Baker Street at 6:15 and got to Serpentine Avenue about 35 minutes later. It was getting dark, and street lamps were coming on as we waited in front of Briony Lodge for Mrs. Norton to arrive. The street was busier than I had expected. There were some poorly dressed men talking and laughing, a scissors-grinder working, two guardsmen chatting with a nurse, and several well-dressed young men hanging around, as if waiting for something to start.

“This marriage makes things simpler,” Holmes said as we walked back and forth in front of the house. “Now the photograph is a problem for both Mr. Godfrey Norton and our client. She doesn’t want him to see it any more than the king wants it to be seen by his future bride.”

“Where do you think the photograph is?” I asked.

“It’s unlikely she carries it with her,” Holmes replied.

“Why not?”

“The king said it’s large with a cardboard backing, so it would be hard to hide in her coat. She also knows that the king might have her searched, which he’s already tried twice.”

“So if it’s not with her, where could it be?”

“It could be at her bank or with her lawyer, but I don’t think so. She probably doesn’t trust anyone else and keeps it herself. She plans to send the photograph to the king of Scandinavia soon, so it has to be somewhere she can easily reach. It must be in her house.”

“But the king’s men searched her house twice.”

“They didn’t know where to look.”

“And how will you find it?”

“I’m not going to look,” Holmes said.

“What’s your plan then?”

“I’ll make her show me where it is.”

“She’ll refuse,” I said.

“She won’t be able to,” Holmes said. Then he stopped. “Listen, that rumbling noise is her carriage. Remember to do exactly as I told you.”

As he spoke, we saw the lights of a carriage coming around the curve of the street. A stylish carriage pulled up to the door of Briony Lodge.

As the carriage arrived, one of the shabby men who had been hanging around rushed to open the door, hoping to get a tip. But another man quickly pushed him aside, trying to do the same thing.

A heated argument broke out, and things got even worse when the two guardsmen sided with one of the men, while the scissors-grinder backed the other. Soon, the lady who had just gotten out of the carriage was caught in the middle of a fight, with men hitting each other with their fists and sticks.

Holmes ran into the crowd to help the lady. But as he reached her, he was struck and fell to the ground, bleeding from his face.

As Holmes fell, the guardsmen ran off in one direction, and the shabby men and the scissors-grinder ran in the other. Meanwhile, the well-dressed young men who had been watching the fight came over to help my injured friend.

Mrs. Norton, wanting to get away from the chaos, hurried up the steps to her open front door. Before going inside, she looked back at the street.

“Is the poor gentleman badly hurt?” she asked.

“He’s dead,” several people shouted.

“No, no, he’s still alive!” yelled another. “But he needs to get to a hospital quickly.”

“He’s a brave man,” said a woman. “He stopped the thieves from stealing the lady’s purse. They were a rough group. Oh, he’s breathing now.”

“We can’t just leave him in the street. Can we bring him inside, ma’am?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Norton said. “Take him into the sitting room. There’s a comfortable couch there. This way, please.”

Carefully, Holmes was carried into Briony Lodge and laid down on the couch in the sitting room.

As soon as Sherlock Holmes was inside the house, I quietly moved closer until I was standing outside the sitting room window. I stayed a little to one side so I could see inside the room without being too visible.

The lights were on, but the blinds were up, so I could see Holmes lying on the couch. He was pretending to be a kind clergyman, smiling bravely despite his injury. Irene Norton came in and gave him a glass of water. She sat on a chair nearby and talked gently to Holmes, thanking him for his brave actions, while Holmes nodded and said it was nothing special.

Watching this, I felt guilty for taking advantage of her kindness. But I knew I had to help Holmes with his plan. So, even though I felt uncomfortable, I took out the smoke rocket from my coat. I reminded myself that we weren’t hurting her; we were just stopping her from causing harm to someone else.

Soon, Mrs. Norton left the room, and a maid came in with tea for the guest. Holmes sat up on the couch and signaled to the maid as if he needed fresh air. The maid went to the window, and I quickly moved out of sight so she wouldn’t see me. She opened the window and then went back to serving the tea.

When her back was turned, Holmes gave me the signal. I threw the smoke rocket into the room. The cap exploded when it hit the floor, and white smoke began to fill the room.

“Fire!” I shouted, and as soon as I did, a big crowd that had quietly gathered in the street behind me started shouting too. I hadn’t even noticed them come together—there were both the well-dressed and shabby young men from before, along with stable hands and maids. “Fire!” they all yelled, as thick smoke poured out of the window.