Under the papers I found some glass jars of the kind
that are used in hospitals. In them were pieces of women's bodies. In the last jar was the worst thing of
all- pieces of the body of a little unborn child.
When I saw that, all the friendly feelings I had ever
had for Sherlock Holmes died inside me. Now I could
go straight to Lestrade and ask him to arrest Holmes,
but I chose not to do that. I did not want all England
to know what Holmes, once a good and wise man,
had become. Some evil things are best hidden from
the world. I, and I alone, would face him and his
crimes.
I went out into the cold morning air. I felt strangely
calm, but also excited.
Holmes was still asleep. I searched his clothes for
drugs and guns, but found only a little money and his
silver snuffbox