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capacity not to be noticed. I have rarely known anyone who had his skill of inconspicuousness; a perfect qualification, of course, for a “stickman”. He could melt away into a crowd like a raindrop in a puddle.
    ‘His other talent was his quickness of movement despite his physical disability. Seeing him darting along on his crutch like a monkey swinging its way from tree to tree, one could understand why the Bartletts had recruited him into their gang. Not only could he disappear from the scene of the crime in an instant, he complemented them perfectly, their roles being, so to speak, public while his was entirely private; theirs to place themselves centre stage, his to vanish into the shadows.
    ‘Johnson usually called at the Bartletts’ on a Friday evening at half past seven, bringing with him a bag containing, I suspected, bottles of brown ale, for, on one occasion, I strolled past the house when he was there and saw through a gap in the curtains the threeof them playing cards at a table under a lamp, the beer decanted into glasses which stood by their sides. At half past ten, he always left, swinging his way up the street on his crutch at that surprising speed of his. Apart from these regular soirées , Johnson appeared to have no other connection with the Bartletts. Intrigued by this strange little man and curious to find out more about his private life, I hired Wiggins to make enquiries on my behalf. To that end, Wiggins followed him one evening to a lodging house in Battersea where he lived alone. He apparently had no family or friends apart from the Bartletts.’
    At this point, Holmes paused and gazed deeply into the fire, as if searching amongst the flames for an explanation for this uncharacteristic interest of his in Whitey Johnson whom he himself had referred to as ‘inconspicuous’. But before I could remark on this unprecedented concern of his, for he rarely showed any feelings for his clients let alone any criminals who might cross his path, he roused himself from his reverie and resumed his account.
    ‘On the Saturday afternoon of the week following Wiggins’ little excursion to Battersea, Whitey Johnson arrived at the Bartletts’ house; an unusual time for him to visit them. As I have explained, he invariably called on them on a Friday evening. As soon as I saw him enter the house, I was immediately on the alert, for I knew something out of the ordinary was about to happen. And I was correct. Ten minutes later, all three of them left the house and set off up the street. Pausingonly to put on my shabby coat and bowler hat, part of my disguise as an out-of-work clerk, I followed them on foot to Ladbroke Grove where they hailed a cab. I did likewise, my hansom keeping a little distance from theirs on my instructions.
    ‘Their destination was the North End Road in Fulham, a busy thoroughfare of shops, cafés and other business premises, including, I noticed, as my cab drew to a halt not far from theirs, a small jeweller’s shop, its single window covered by a metal grille and the name Samuel Greenbaum painted on the board above it.
    ‘Here the three of them separated, Johnson limping ahead to survey, I assumed, any alleys and side turnings which would serve as an escape route should one be needed. Rosie Bartlett also went her own way, sauntering along, her veil lowered, pretending to look in the shop windows but also doubtlessly surveying the neighbourhood on her own behalf.
    ‘Bartlett, meanwhile, to my utter astonishment, entered the shop. It was a totally unexpected move on his part but one I could see the logic of when I thought about it. By doing so, he, too, could inspect for himself certain aspects of the premises in readiness for the actual crime which they planned would take place at some later date, for I was quite convinced this was not intended to be the actual robbery, merely a rehearsal for it. By this means, he could check, for example, if the proprietor worked alone in the shop or