From the Diary of Dr J Watson:
Thanks to my call for help via Billy the Pigeon, Holmes alerted the police and within an hour, Lestrade and his trusty Bobbies surrounded the house and freed me from my own personal hell. Fu Manchu was, of course, not to be found, but one of his henchman – Eye-no Tell – is helping the police with their enquiries.
Holmes, as is his wont, did not attend my rescue himself as he apparently had to attend an urgent (his words) concert of violin music at the Albert Hall. No doubt he will call and see me at some point, and in all fairness, since the ‘adventure’ was entirely due to my own stupidity, I cannot hold him in any less regard for his absence.
I have little else to think about at the moment, so I am sitting here scribbling in my diary, while Mrs Watson practices her new hobby – massaging my feet. I must admit I was rather sceptical when she first suggested it, but feeling those long slender fingers working their way around my size tens, I have to admit that the whole thing is quite erotic. (Apparently, she learned the technique from our new maid (a young Chinese woman who very kindly returned my wife’s purse after it was stolen the other day). The girl’s eagerness to please was apparent and we decided she would be perfect to replace our previous maid (who, according to the note Su Ling found on the kitchen counter, has run off with a soldier, despite being almost seventy years old).
My present relaxed state aside, I do have some concerns about Mister Manchu’s purpose – since he clearly did not achieve whatever devious plot he had in mind. I suppose he will already be planning how he will again lure myself or Holmes into some kind of oriental ambush. I only hope we are able to anticipate how he might inveigle himself into our lives and homes. If not, I fear we may all find ourselves in very grave danger.