Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 124, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 757 & 758, September/October 2004

Surely Holmes had no such client. Yet still he knew of the box. Apparently he’d taught himself about music boxes just in case facts about such items came in useful — exactly as Goodcastle did when preparing for his burglaries. (“Data, data, data,” Holmes had said; how true!)

Goodcastle said to them, “Well, good day, gentlemen.”

“And to you, sir. Our apologies.” It was the amiable Dr. Watson who offered this.

“Not at all,” Goodcastle assured them. “I would rather have an aggressive constabulary protecting us from the likes of Bill Sloat than one that is remiss and allows us to fall prey to such blackguards.”

And, he added to himself, I would most certainly have a constabulary that is candid in how they pursue wrongdoers, allowing me the chance to improve the means of practicing my own craft.

After the men had left, Goodcastle went to the cupboard, poured a glass of sherry. He paused at one of the jewelry cases in the front of the store and glanced at a bowl containing cheap cuff links and shirt studs. Beside it was a sign that said, Any Two Items for GBP1. He checked to make certain the Westphalian ring was discreetly hidden beneath the tin and copper jewelry, where it would remain until he met with his French buyer tomorrow.

Goodcastle then counted his daily receipts and, as he did every night, carefully ordered and dusted the counter so that it was ready for his customers in the morning.