From the Diary of Doctor Watson

As we were being herded along the tunnel like so many sheep, I whispered my apologies to my dear wife, who (perhaps quite rightly), gave me a quick dig in the ribs. I thus turned my attention to Holmes, who was now at my side.

“Look here, Sherl, you don’t think this is some mad plan to tunnel under the English countryside from Milford Junction to the Houses of Parliament?”

“For once, Watson, you are thinking logically,” muttered Holmes. “However, your theory is somewhat wide of the mark. Nevertheless, we still have the upper hand.”

“We do?” said I.

He nodded. “I take it you noticed our captors appear to be impersonating German soldiers?”

“Of course, Holmes.” I retorted. “Even I noticed that!”

We had moved into the main part of the tunnel and were now forced to walk two abreast. In the distance I could see only the receding lights that hung from the ceiling in an unending line above us.

“And you are also aware of the calamity that befell Herr Hitler shortly before he fell into the giant chasm that opened up beneath the Munich Molehill during his final hours?”

“I’ve read about it, yes. ”

“And how the blueprint for his invasion of England, clutched in his sweaty little hand, fell into that very same chasm?”

“Absolutely. Lost forever, as they say. But what are you getting at, old bean?”

“What I am getting at, Watson, is that Moriarty would not be stupid enough to attempt to replicate Hitler’s ridiculous plan to tunnel under the English countryside from Milford Junction to the Houses of Parliament.”

“He wouldn’t?”

“No. However, we have another old enemy who would be prepared to do precisely that, and it is he who is currently masquerading as our old adversary Moriarty in whose likeness he was previously masquerading as Herr Hitler.”

“My God, Holmes!” I cried. “A double bluff?”

“Nothing less, Watson.”

“But Holmes,” I muttered, “who is this old enemy are you referring to?”

My companion gave me a sardonic smile. “Take a look at our adversary’s hairline.”

I peered at the man marching ahead of us. “What am I looking for, Holmes?”

“Describe his hair, Watson.”

“Well, it’s quite neat, cut in the short-back-n-sides style so popular with the gay boys.”

“And what else?”

“Well, apart from the braided pigtail, it looks perfectly normal.”

Holmes rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, John, how many villains do we know with a braided pigtail?”

I stared at him. “Oh My God! You mean –”

“Yes, Watson – Fu Manchu.”