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late nemesis, Moriarty.
    ‘In order to recuperate, I thought that I might practice what almost amounted to an ascetic lifestyle. And so I travelled to China, where I commenced a little Buddhist training in meditation and the like in one of the temples in Chang’an.
    ‘But then I discovered the sprawling backstreets of the city, the lamp-lit pleasure areas, those countless jumbled, cramped dwellings and hidden rooms and the type of life that takes place in shadows and darkness… Far more interesting than what I was enduring at the temple, I regret to say…’
    It was not cold, but still Holmes’s words somehow had me chilled to the bone.
    ‘Yes,’ he continued, his eyes far-away and abstract, looking into his memories. ‘Despite my being a foreigner – and anti-foreign sentiment is high within China, and I believe it will only get worse – I was able to learn many dark secrets…
    ‘Ways of assassination, especially, which right now I be– ’
    A soft knock on the door caused Sherlock Holmes to abruptly stop talking.
    ‘Yes?’ he said.
    The door slid open and Katamari entered, giving a slight bow as he did so. Despite my amazement at what I’d just been told, I couldn’t help but reflect that the senior monk’s change in attitude to the Englishman was really quite profound! It was now as though Katamari had a definite respect for Holmes, and his abilities.
    ‘Forgive my disturbing you,’ Katamari began, as Holmes made some small gesture indicating that this was fine. ‘I just wondered if…’
    The rest of the question was obvious.
    ‘Katamari- san ,’ began Homes, ‘is there any part of the temple I have not yet seen?’
    ‘You mean – as in you needed to see the large pond outside the tearoom, to guess that a tunnel ran along the bottom of it?’ returned the senior monk. Clearly, he was no fool.
    Holmes nodded.
    ‘Yes, that is correct,’ he said honestly. ‘I confess that otherwise I can see no meaning in these words, as yet.’
    Katamari thought for a few moments.
    ‘Well, all the rooms occupied by the monks are almost identical to this one, or the one you saw the body of Isuke lying in,’ declared Katamari uncertainly. ‘You’ve seen the main hall, the tearoom, the main entrance, the dining hall… Really, I don’t know where else – ’
    He paused, quite suddenly.
    ‘Katamari- san ?’ prompted Holmes.
    ‘Well – there’s the Barrel Room, I suppose,’ declared the senior monk.
    ‘The Barrel Room? Where is this – and what does the name signify?’
    ‘It’s located behind the main hall – I mean, beyond the corridor that runs behind the altar,’ Katamari replied. ‘As for the name, I believe it’s because barreled supplies – preserved food and such – were once stored there. Now, we continue to use it as a general storage area. There is nothing of any interest there, except…’
    ‘Yes?’ said Holmes, slight impatience sounding.
    ‘Well,’ said the monk, looking shrewdly at the famous foreigner, ‘maybe it would be best just to show you. Shall we go now?’
    ‘Yes,’ said Holmes. ‘Let’s.
     
    9
     
    Some of the wind which had sprung up outside whistled along the corridors of this ancient temple, as the three of us walked towards the main hall. We entered, and headed across the tatami mats that were on one side of the altar with its great, golden statue of Buddha, surrounded by lighted candles, in the direction of a small doorway.  
    This, I discovered, led out to yet another long, but also very narrow corridor. It was gloomy – increasingly so as the stormy afternoon turned to evening, the light coming in through the main hall’s, wood-and-paper windows beginning to diminish.
    Katamari found a lamp on a shelf, and lit it. He stopped outside a small wooden door that was situated along this corridor, opposite from the main hall. 
    Pushing the door open – it was unlocked – he then led us inside. It was a cool, stone-floored room with numerous shelves and