Once again, the mistral—that irritating wind that pokes in from the northwest—had decided to stay away and the sky was a huge, empty blue. In London, the summer had gotten off to its usual shaky start. It was pouring with rain and, with Wimbledon just a week away, everyone was watching the foreca...
O’DONAGHUE CAME AGAIN LAST NIGHT. MY SAFE BROKEN INTO AND POLICE NOW SUMMONED. CAN YOU COME? It was signed, Edmund Carstairs. ‘So what do you make of that, Watson?’ Holmes asked, tossing the paper down onto the table. ‘He has...