Inspector Brackenreid did a double-take upon entering Murdoch’s office, stepping back from the human skeleton displayed prominently in the corner. “Bloody hell! Where did he come from?”

The Detective looks pleased with himself. “Dr. Grace has acquired a new skeleton. She gave that one to me.”

“No doubt a day of great joy and celebration,” the Inspector replied dryly. “So, any news on the robbery?”

“By all accounts it was a well-orchestrated heist.”

“Foiled by an anonymous tip.”

“Yes,” Murdoch agreed. “The call came from a Front Street exchange. We’re looking into it now.”

“They killed one of their own. Any leads?” Brackenreid asked. Having identified the body outside the bank as one of the getaway drivers, the case posed a puzzling challenge.

“We have a suspect awaiting interview in interrogation room one.”

Pleased with the progress Murdoch had made so far, the Inspector changed the subject, gesturing out to the waiting area. “Who’s the bloke dressed as Sherlock Holmes?”

“Well, Sir, he claims to be Sherlock Holmes.”

As if prompted, Sherlock, pipe in hand and now dressed in an iconic overcoat in addition to his deerstalker, entered the door to the office. His quick eyes took in the complex machines and experiments in one glance. “A detective who is a man of science. About time, I’d say. Scotland Yard could learn a thing or two. Detective, we have matters to discuss.”

Murdoch sighed, already tired. “Have a seat in the waiting area and I will be with you shortly.”

He closed the door behind him.