From the Diary of Dr J Watson:
Having ensconced ourselves at The Old Woodward Place, Holmes and I endeavoured to make our surroundings as comfortable as possible (given the recent threat to our very existence). Shaggy took his ridiculous hound for a walk while I toasted crumpets on a rather ‘homely’ fire, knocked up a jug of hot chocolate and waited for Holmes to finish his ablutions.
“Remind me to avoid Wild Rabbit Curry in future, Watson – the damn stuff has given me a roaring dose of the runs.”
“Rather like the rabbit itself, then,” I chuckled.
Holmes gave me a sardonic smile and seated himself in one of the two armchairs by the fire. I handed out my wares and we settled down to discuss the case.
Holmes unfolded the ‘telegram’ again. “So, Watson, according to this we have until tomorrow night to solve this caper before something devilish occurs.” He peered at me over the top of his reading spectacles.
“You have a plan, I take it?”
My companion nodded. “Indeed, though it relies rather too heavily on our laidback friend for my comfort.” He paused, then “But since it is the only plan, we must take it and run with it. Run, in fact, being the operative word. If I’m right, the only way to bring an end to this affair is to allow ourselves to fall into Moriarty’s trap. At which point, we will of course escape the ravages of the burning effigy and effect a capture.”
I swallowed hard. “Surely you don’t mean that we should follow the instructions on the telegram?”
“Of course, Watson. How else can we be sure of success?”
I shook my head and wondered if I should take a few minutes to write a farewell letter to my dear wife, just in case.
Holmes sipped his hot chocolate and smacked his lips. “The game’s afoot, Watson. And I do mean, a foot…” He gave me one of his Confucius-type smiles and turned to gaze into the fire.
To be continued.