"Madness, anyhow. And a strange kind of madness, too. You wouldn't think there was anyone living these days who hated Napoleon the First so much that he would break any image of Napoleon that he could see."

Holmes sat back in his chair. "That's no business of mine," he said.

"Exactly. That's what I said. But then, when the man commits burglary in order to break images which don't belong to him, that means it's not a job for a doctor but for a policeman."

Holmes sat up again. "Burglary! This is more interesting. Let me hear the details."

Lestrade took out his official notebook and refreshed his memory from its pages. "The first case was reported four days ago," he said. "It was at the shop of Morse Hudson, who sells pictures and statues in the Kennington Road. The assistant had left the front shop for an instant. He heard a crash, and hurried back. He discovered that a plaster bust of Napoleon, which had stood with several other works of art upon the counter, had been smashed into fragments.

He rushed out into the road, but, although several people said that they had noticed a man run out of the shop, the assistant could not see anyone. There was no way to tell who had done it. It seemed to be one of those senseless acts of hooliganism which occur from time to time. It was reported to the local constable, but the plaster cast was not worth more than a few shillings, and the whole thing appeared to be too childish for any particular investigation.