The Empty Seat

The theatre the next day was quieter than the river. The seat on the ticket was empty. A short new rope was pinned to the back of the chair, tied like the one on the barge. A boy sat beside it, a programme open, not one page read.

Holmes sat before the curtain rose. He did not look at the stage. "You did not come for the play," he told the boy. The boy's fingers stopped. "I came to return something. He said if you knew the knot, the key to the box was yours. If the police came, the key would go into the river."

The key was too light to open an iron box. Holmes held it to the lamp. In the teeth was the same grey fibre as on the card. "The box is not where the answer is hidden," he said quietly to Watson. "The box is a ticket to the next act. And the person who wrote the play is in this theatre now. Just not in this seat."

❦ To be continued.