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           The covers on the bed concealed

two shapes. One of then turned and stretched, yawning widely. Sharp white teeth

gleamed in the morning light."Good morning Watson."The other shape stirred. "Morning

Holmes," he said tiredly before he pulled himself down farther into the sheets.The fox, that is to say the one

called Holmes, yanked back the covers, revealing that both of them were devoid of even the barest of clothing."Watson, you can be delightful when

you want to be, but for heaven's sake wake up. Mrs. Hudson will be around with morning

tea, and if she finds us like this, there will be hell to pay!"The hare thus exposed groaned.

"Holmes, I bloody well don't give a damn. It's not my fault you let everyone

think you're some sort of asexual being just because you prefer to keep it

canned up until you're ready to burst. I told you the cocaine was never going

to help.""So you did Watson, so you did. I'm

glad that you're amiable to a little flip-sided sexual depravity once in a

while. It means I can keep my secret that much longer."Watson yawned and climbed out of bed, grooming back his ears. "Holmes, I was in the Afghan campaigns. In those heathen

lands you learn there is a lot more to life than a stiff British upbringing

will give you."Holmes raised his eyebrows at the

word stiff. "Speaking of which, you

don't suppose there's time for one more round of...""No! You said so yourself; Mrs.

Hudson will be along shortly with breakfast. And speaking of which, I think I

had better go muss up my bed covers or she'll know something is up. You know

how she's learned your deductive ways. If it doesn't look as though I have

slept in it, then she'll be hounding me for a reason."                "Yes,

the old bird is quite the student. It's too bad she is as aged as she is, or

else I might have made a concerted effort to teach her more."                The

hare made for his room, and came back out in a dressing gown. A peek through

his open door showed his bed in disarray. Holmes frowned.                "Watson,

that will never do. It looks more like you ransacked your room. Go back and

straighten it up, and then fold back the corner as you do every other time you

exit it in the morning."                He

looked back and chuckled. "Damn if you're not right. I did rather muck it up,

didn't I?"                "You

did. She might not notice, but why chance it?"                Watson

was just coming back out when the landlord came in with a tray, complete with

tea, jam, bread, smoked fish and a compliment of fresh greens and fruits for

them both, though they catered primarily to Watson's palate.                "Mrs.

Hudson," cried Holmes, "how ever does a fox live on such meager fixings as

this?"                She learned

long ago to ignore his jests. "If you don't like it Mr. Holmes, then by all

means go to Hammerson's around the corner and have them fix you something. At

least I have Mr. Watson here as a grateful recipient of my cooking."                The

hare nodded, his mouth presently stuffed full of greens. When he had hastily

swallowed them, he spoke in a rush. "Of course Mrs. Hudson. Any bachelor unable

to cook is always wise to compliment the one preparing his food."                She

bopped him on the back on the head. "Now that is a backhanded compliment

doctor, and it leads me to suspect you have been spending too much time in

intimate contact with Sherlock here."                He knew

what she meant, but he nearly brought up his recently swallow mouthful. Holmes

smiled ingratiatingly and waved her off. "I think we will eat better in peace

good woman. Go! I'll ring you when we are done!"                The

door to their quarters closed with a bang. "God Holmes, I thought that maybe

she knew!"                "You

dolt! She knows nothing. If she did, then we would already be out on the street.

Eat your breakfast while I sift through the agony columns and recent letters to

see if there is anything worthy of my talents.                Watson

was rather glad for that, because for all of his partner's brilliance, he was

poorly lacking in the social graces. He could carry on a discussion of the

various tobaccos and where they came from, and the construction and composition

of the various cigars, cigarillos, cigarettes and pipe tobacco as could be

found about London.  He could distinguish

a criminal by his paw prints, and even knew the various shoemakers and the

styles of footwear each of the varying species in the city tended to wear. But

never ask him how he was or what his opinion was. You'd get more than you ever

bargained for.                He

lived for the hunt, a term he found amusing for some reason. He once said that

in the curious fictional works of Jules Verne, one might imagine alternate

realities where dogs hunted foxes, instead of the other way around. It was pure

insanity of course. Watson looked at his friend with certain envy. He was often

completely unaware of how his mannerisms and flights of fancy affected people.

Either that or he simply didn't care.                Holmes

held up a letter. "This one shows promise. It is from a certain Miss Abigail

Hawkins of Kent. She complains of; well, shall I have you read it?"                "If you

wish. Aloud I assume, so that you may hang on my every word?"                "Don't

flatter yourself Watson. I find I get a feel for the words better when they are

spoken."                The

hare adjusted his reading glasses. "Addressed yesterday morning from The Elms

in Kent. From the slight smell of lavender, I would say the addressee was a

female, which coincides with the name."                Holmes

smiled. "Not taking anything for granted is good Watson. Carry on."                "Dear Mrs. Sherlock Holmes, You

have been recommended to me by a friend and confidante whom you helped some

time ago in regards to her missing husband. You may recall the case. Her name

is Victoria Witham. I have a problem which I cannot take to the police for the

lack of any real motive. I pray that you will find it in your heart to at least

allow me a few minutes of your time to consult with you on the matter."                                                                                 

Sincerely, Miss Abigail Hawkins"                Watson

looked up. "Who was this Witham woman she mentions?"                "A

fine, upstanding young woman Watson, and very lovely to look upon. Her husband...well

I think it better to not discuss that matter. I did find him, but it served no

good purpose. She might have been happier thinking herself a widow."                "That

bad? I have seen enough to know that if you refrain from an explanation, it is

something incredible indeed."                "That's

why I like you Watson. You know when to grant me silence. No nagging.  Now what do you think this Hawkins lady wants?"                "Well,

I'd have to say that is difficult to say."                "Quite

right. I cannot make bricks without clay. I need data. So shall we invite her

to London and see what it is she wants?"                They

sent a letter by post and received a reply in the evening mail that said she

would arrive tomorrow by noon, as long as the trains where running on schedule.

Holmes remarked that they were one of the few things they did tend to run

smoothly in her majesty's kingdom. At the appointed hour she arrived.                The

name should have been a dead giveaway. Abigail was one of the raptors, a

Peregrine to be exact. She had her beak polished to a fine sheen, and her

feathers were preened and every one of them in place except for a few damaged

ones. She had on a unique dress made of lightweight material that allowed her

freedom of movement that many bustle-wearing mammals would have killed

for.  Overall, she was a fine specimen of

avian beauty.                 Holmes

looked her up and down. "I see we decided to forego the train today."                She

smiled. "Yes I did. I don't mind stretching my wings now and again. But how did

you know?"                "For

one, you have no odor of coal smoke about you. Secondly, your talons have bits

of thin tan bark adhering to them. I can only assume that was from your landing

on the large branch of the cypress tree in the square one block over. From

there you walked the rest of the way to Baker Street. The fine mud soiling your

talons is quite familiar to me.                "Very

good Mr. Holmes. That is it exactly. So do I even need to tell you my troubles

or have you already determined what they are and have made the proper amends?"                "Other

than to say you come from a good family, which is in stark contrast to the

location from whence you sent your message, and that you were attacked on the

way here, and that you are still looking for a life mate despite your plethora of

male companions, I know nothing of your troubles."                 "Mr. Holmes!"                He sat

there unperturbed.                 She on

the other hand was sitting there panting slightly, her wings held to her sides.

She nearly tipped over one of his experiments in her alarm. "How did you know I

was attacked?"                "Easily

madam. Your tail feathers are in disarray, and two of them have chunks removed.

I can't imagine a lady of your stature leaving the house without having every

pinion in place."                She

craned her head and looked. "Yes, it's true. But I was too fast for them. It

was an ambush."                "So we

have a young lady of the avian kind attacked in her flight on the way to me for

counsel. Are you sure it was not something as simple as an attack against your

person, for say, sexual gratification?"                "Mr.

Holmes! I'm sure I don't know what you mean!"                "I find

that hard to believe. I was referring to a rape. You are polished beyond the

simple measure of a young lady from a fine family. I think that you are quite

familiar with what I mean, for you are hardly a virgin, if that's the impression

you're trying to exude."                Her

wings went wide again, but he sat unperturbed. When she finally overcame her

apparent indignity, she was more relaxed. "I am sorry Mr. Holmes. I guess I

believed your skills were overstated. I won't ask you how you know so much,

because I think that I'd prefer to remain ignorant."                "Ignorant

madam, is what I still am in regards to your problem. If you'd be so kind as to

state it succinctly, it would make my assistance to you all the more likely. I

care not a whim for your bedtime antics nor for your daytime exploits unless

they have a bearing on this case."                "It is

most mysterious Mr. Holmes, I assure you. 

I cannot say that my sexual, uhm, tendencies have anything to do with

it, for if they do, it then makes this even more mysterious."                She sat

in thought for a moment before resuming her speech. "It started about six weeks

ago. As you have ascertained, I spend a certain amount of time supplementing my

inherited income by entertaining various gentleman of high birth or rank."                Holmes

cleared his throat. "Madam, that in itself is a dangerous occupation. Common

men have little to lose, but powerful ones have much."                "I know

this Mr. Holmes, all too well. Feathers are good at hiding bruises. I have been

threatened with keeping silent more than once despite it being in the verbal

contract."                Watson

was taking notes. "Verbal contract?"                His

partner motioned for him to be silent. "Watson, a written contract of this sort

would be ruinous. Therefore, everyone is expected to be men of their word, and

the same goes for the lady." He turned to her. "I assume that this arrangement

has been both profitable and sufficient up to some point when it went sour?"                "Well

Mr. Holmes, I don't rightly know. There have been no real problems to speak of.

Some of my clients can be a little rough, but I get paid extra for putting up

with it. No, it seems that whoever is after me has nothing to do with any of

these men. I mean, really, why would someone ransack my rooms if they wanted me

or any of the sensitive information I might have? It could destroy a lot of

government officials, but who would even know about it?"                "Indeed.

So they are looking for something they believe to be in your possession. Had

you been given anything by any of your, how should I say this; by any of you

gentleman callers?"                She

almost blushed. "No. All I accept is cash Mr. Holmes. I put it immediately into

the bank to safe keep it."                 "Banks

you mean."                Her

eyes went wide. "Why yes, but how could you know?"                "I

assume the amount per night is high. A young lady making constant deposits into

the same bank on a routine basis would draw some sort of suspicion. With your

ability to fly, going to multiple institutions spread over a wide area is an

elementary stratagem to avoid detection."                "I

believe Mr. Holmes, that if you were not on the side of the law that you would

make the most excellent criminal."                "I have

told Watson much the same on many occasions."                Watson

looked up from his notebook. "Indeed he has. And we have been in jail more than

once during his investigations. Sometimes Lady Justice needs a little help of

the kind that is less lawful than Inspector Lestrade has the ability to

perform."               "So

then you don't mind looking into this mystery for me?"               "I find

that it offers a peculiar mix of obfuscation and perplexity to keep my interest

in it for a while, say two or three days."               She

would have frowned had her beak allowed for it. "And after that?" "Why, after that I'll have to find

a new case. I think we can have the matter cleared up rather quickly. " "Then you have a guess at who the

culprit is?" "Not in the least. You see, you

still have told us nothing pertinent. If you would be so kind, humor me by

reciting to the good doctor your recent travels and purchases leading up to the

onset of this business. Since I have to agree that it's not a matter of a client

seeking revenge, then it must be something else.""But what?"He sighed. "I would no more ask

Bertrand the baker to make a cake without flour than I would have someone ask

me to make assumptions based on nothing. Give me something to go on, and I will

bake for you a delightful solution to your problem.""But there is nothing much to tell.

About two months ago I went to Paris under a contract with a certain French

ambassador. I spent about week in France before I returned home. I assure

nothing happened that was extraordinary.""Allow me to be the judge of that.

The cases that appear to be ordinary on the surface are often the most rotten

underneath.""Fine. I will bow to your judgment.

Outside of my daily contact with the gentleman, I did some shopping. I don't spoil

myself too much mind you, but I do have a passion for collecting a certain art

form."Watson's ears twisted at the term art. "Really? I'm a bit of a connoisseur

myself. What do you collect?"Holmes eyes lit with amusement, but

he said nothing. Miss Hawkins looked embarrassed."I collect..""Yes?""Dildos.""Excuse me?"She sighed. "I am a very sexual

female Dr. Watson. Why else do you think I do what I do? It's not just the

money. I like variety. And when I don't have an appointment to keep, I like to

keep my libido in check. In the process, I found that there are a whole lot of

toys hailing from different cultures around the world. You don't find them just

anywhere, as you can imagine. I have to search in the back alley antique and

curiosity shops to find them, and even then, my collection only numbers around

thirty." "And you bought one whilst visiting

Paris?"She hung her head low. "I found

five. I was overjoyed at such luck Mr. Holmes. I can go for months without

finding a single example, and in the matter of a few days I found a treasure

trove."Sherlock's eyes lit up. "I see. And

you packed them up and managed to slip them through customs without them being

detected.""Yes. You see, having powerful

friends does have its advantages."Watson started to say something,

but again his partner hushed him. "Miss Hawkins, did you lose any of these art

pieces during the break in?"She shook her head. "No. I don't

dare keep such things in the house, not with the maid going through things all

the time.""I thought as much. It seems that

they are looking for something you have, and if they are still after you, then

they didn't find it. I'd therefore suggest, despite how outré it sounds, that

they are looking for one of your dildos.""But why? And who is looking for

it?""Why? Because they want it. As for

who, I'd say the matter would be best served by examining your collection and

going from there. I assume you have them all hidden in a very secret spot.""Yes I do. But if I tell you, it

will no longer be secret, now will it?"Holmes smiled. He stood and leaned

down to her ear. After whispering a few words, she jerked back and squawked.

"Mr. Holmes, how can you know this?""Elementary deduction madam. What

better place for secrecy for a flier than a place no one but someone with wings

could reach. I do keep track of things about London madam. The top floor of the

Biltmore Hotel was recently cut off from the main building by the bricking up

of the stairwells. I'm sure you read the speculation about it in the papers. I

deduced the reason at the time and promptly forgot the matter. I see that I was

right.""Mr. Holmes you are too much!"Watson cleared his throat. "Oh, you

have no idea!""Shut up Watson. Now, madam, shall

we see this collection?""But how ever shall you reach the

penthouse? I am not so strong as to carry either of you there.""No, but I assure you that we will

still be able to meet you there. Assuming no one has found out your secret

hideout, then I think we can wrap this case up quickly. Shall we meet you there

around midnight tonight?""If you ask it, Mr. Holmes, then I

must acquiesce, if only to get some normality back into my life. I hate looking

over my shoulder all the time. It is terribly distracting."She departed, and after Mr. Hudson

had brought a light lunch, the two set to talking. Holmes lit his pipe, and

sucked down on his tobacco with relish. The bowl nearly glowed from his

inhalations. "You know Watson a touch of hashish mixed with the tobacco works

wonders in calming agitation.""I'm sure it does. I don't promote

it as a constant habit, but when it spares my ass a good pounding, then I

support all of its good work."Holmes actually chuckled."Oh

Watson, don't be so dramatic. Now, what do you make of this matter?""So the lady collects dildos. It's

odd, but not the most outrageous things I've heard of. ""I agree. But the fact remains that

she stumbled onto something unexpected while on her shopping spree in Paris.

Does that ring a bell with you?""No. Should it?""I suppose not. I tend to read more

into things than you do, which is a shame. Do you recall the robbery of Admiral

Harrison during his stay at the Hotel Regina in Paris?""I can't say I do.""Well, if you would pay more

attention to what's going on around you, you might have noticed that he lost a

collection of Egyptian artifacts recently excavated from the sands of that

ancient country. He didn't have then cataloged yet, but there was a partial

list posted in the papers.""And?" the doctor said, blowing

smoke from his cigars towards the ceiling."Much of it was recovered, but not

all of it.""And therefore you think that some

ancient Egyptian dildo was part of the mix? That's rather absurd Holmes. How

would it have found its way into a curiosity shop?""I didn't say I had all of the

answers Watson. But when one eliminates the probable, whatever is left, no

matter how improbable, must be the correct answer.""So you have said before. I guess

we'll know tonight.""Indeed we will. I will just have

enough time to make it around to the admiral's house and see if he has an

interest in recovering this particular piece. I can't say if he has set

ruffians out against our client, but if he has for the sole purpose of

recovering the piece, then perhaps we may find an amiable solution to this

problem."Holmes left twenty minutes later,

leaving Watson to sit quietly by himself. He amused himself by imagining this

pretty female playing with her toys. He desisted a little while later when he

found himself rather excited with no way of venting his lust. Mrs. Hudson was

correct in stating the Holmes was a bad influence. The man that everyone

thought was so stoically unemotional was actually simply repressing his

feelings until they were near the bursting point. And boy, when they burst

forth, beware! He could give this ladyhawk a run for her money!Holmes returned a few hours later,

and just in time for supper. He declined to eat."You eat Watson, for I would never

want to have you accusing me of forcing you on an expedition without your

preferred victuals digesting comfortably inside your belly."It was a poke at the doctor's

preference for a stable, daily routine. Holmes was known to wander off for days

on end, coming back dirty, disheveled and gaunt. He had the knack however, of

being able to transform back into his proper appearance with a minimal of fuss.

That he could go without eating was nothing short of miracle. Still, Watson

gave him a well practiced glare."Oh John knock it off. I ate at the

admiral's house. He is quite keen to get back what he considers to be the most

important object stolen from him."If you say so. Did he say why he wants

this one piece in particular?""Yes, but I am not at liberty to

say, because we still don't know if Miss Hawkins has it or not. We'll know

after we arrive at her penthouse.""Yes, about that. How are we going

to get into it if the stairwells leading to it are closed?""I've got it covered. But saying

that, I'd suggest you wait until we return to eat your dessert."Holmes was correct. Among his other

travels, he had gone to the hotel and made the acquaintance of the head chef. A

few gold sovereigns sealed their friendship. Holmes had deduced that while the

typical bodily access to the suite was cut off, there was still likely a call

system and a dumbwaiter for ordering and delivering food.  The doctor had never suffered claustrophobia

before, but contorting himself into that cramped box just about did it. They

went up one at a time, and after a difficult time in getting the doors open,

which were meant to be opening from the outside only, they made it into her apartment.

 It was dark inside, which wasn't

terribly surprising. Watson made as if to head towards the balcony doors when

Holmes grabbed his shoulder."I don't think we're alone. Did you

bring your revolver?"The fact of the matter was, he

never left without it. They had gotten into a number of scrapes that the old

army revolver had been instrumental in extricating them from. "Yes, I have it.""Good. I don't like bloodshed but

there are times when a weapon trumps even the most persistent criminal."Watson wasn't sure why his partner

thought that there were others in here until he could smell the cheap gin and

second rate tobacco. Holmes never smoked anything less than the best, and his

drinking habits where equally impeccable. He whispered n his ear. "How many do

you suppose?""Just two. Since I already talked

with the admiral and got his promise to not interfere, they must be under the

hire of someone else who is interested in the item. I can only guess that would

mean it's the person who orchestrated the original theft. From the smell of

them, I'd say they have no idea who they work for. They have probably been told

to question the lady in any manner they like and for as long as they like until

they find out where her collection is.""Any idea who might be behind it?""Yes, but it matters not at the

moment. We need to disable them before the lady comes to harm.""Yes, but how?""Outside of simply shooting them,

which is hardly sporting, I am at a loss."At that moment, the problem came to

a head when Miss Hawkins arrived. The doors to the balcony flew open and the gas

lamp was struck. In the resulting amber light, two rats dressed in secondhand

clothing pounced from their hiding places. The lady was surprised but hardly

put off."Now see here you two. Leave now

and nothing will happen to you. Otherwise, I cannot be held responsible for the

results of your persistence in staying here.""Oi! Listen to miss snooty

feathers! Whatsya gonna do missy?"In answer to his query, the speaker

got the butt of a pistol on the back of his head. He dropped like a rock. The

other turned and was promptly sucker punched. Two rodents were in a heap on the

floor."Thank you so much Mr. Holmes and Dr.

Watson. I must say, I was caught off guard by their presence. How did they get

in?" Then her eyes narrowed. "For that matter, how did you get in? I was told

this was impregnable.""Madam, there is no such thing.

Where one can get in, many can get in."Watson made a little bow. "You are looking

at the only two men to have gained entrance to the Bank of England and walked

back out again without leaving a trace."She returned a little bow. "I

believe you. Now, what shall we do with these two? I'm all for dumping them off

the balcony.""No madam, don't be hasty. When they

come to they may have some small information to impart. In the meantime, shall

we see this collection of yours?""Of course Mr. Holmes." She led the

way to a sumptuous bedroom that was obviously put into place before the suite

was walled off from the rest of the building. She hopped across the floor until

she came to a steamer trunk. She opened it, revealing a series of drawers. "You may look them over. I'll tell

you which ones are the newest as you come across them.""That's alright my dear. I know

what I'm looking for." He flipped through the drawers until he found an

alabaster statue. It wasn't originally intended to be used as a sex toy, but

due to the stylized construction, it served the purpose admirably. It was of a feline;

about eight inches long and polished smooth."Did this come with a box?""Yes it did. The young man in this

particular shop drove a hard bargain for it. He told me his master had a buyer

lined up for it, but I offered more. He seemed delighted to have driven such a

hard bargain, but I thought it was worth every penny. Is this the thing that

has caused me so much trouble?""As a matter of fact no. Where is

the box it came in?"She pointed to the top of a bureau.

Sitting atop it was a wickedly old looking box, adorned with symbols and hieroglyphs.

Holmes picked it up, sniffing the wood. "This is the truly the original box, of

that there is no doubt. I can smell the pine tar and  myrrh." He opened it up. Inside was a raised

indentation that was perfectly made for the statuette. Watson looked inside. "There's

nothing intrinsically valuable about this box. Even with the statue included,

it can't be worth more than a fifty pounds. Why would anyone want to have it so

badly?"Holmes pried up the inside

compartment to reveal a hidden area below it. Inside was a rolled scroll. He

pulled it out with a cry of satisfaction. "What is it?" cried their client.Holmes unrolled it. "It is a naval

treaty between Great Britain and Egypt. The admiral knew that if it were discovered

that we had agreed to certain right-of-ways in the Mediterranean Sea, other

powers would take it as an impending act of aggression. He hid it in this box assuming

that if anyone happened to have knowledge of it, they would be unable to

pinpoint its location. But someone did seem to know, hinting at a traitor in

her Majesty's government. It seems that the thief may have sold this piece off

to the shop where you purchased it to try to gain recompense for not recovering

the intended object, unbeknownst to him that the treaty was in his very hands.

Obviously, the interested party figured out its location, but not before your

happy chance upon it. If not for the fates intervening, there might very well

be international intrigue of the utmost severity befalling our country."Miss Hawkins shook her head. "All

this time I had a government document of great importance hidden in a box and

all I was concerned with was pleasuring myself with the statue that came inside

it?" "There are worse things in life madam. In the

end, there is no harm done. The admiral has assured me you are welcome to keep

the relics as mementos of your experience. As for this," he held up the paper, "I

need to make sure that the other interested party is well informed that it has

been recovered. Otherwise, you will be pestered to the point of death, and we simply

can't have that."Watson wrinkled his nose. "Do you

suppose this is the work of Professor Moriarty?""Yes John, I think that it is a

good possibility. But the line of evidence connecting him with the original

crime and the one that has perplexed our client likely has been cut far from

the source. I will certainly have to be content in knowing that in foiling

another of his plots, he is left to stew in his own frustration."They said their goodbyes to their

client. I took the dumbwaiter down first, and the still unconscious rats were

sent down one at a time. Holmes followed afterwards. They dragged their prizes

to the alley behind the hotel with a note pinned on one's jacket. All it said

was, "Better luck next time. S.H."Back at the house on Baker Street, they

were too wound up to go to sleep. Watson lit up a cigar while Holmes stuffed a

few old dottles from his previous smokes and lit up."So Holmes, you had it figured out

from the start?""Heavens no Watson. I only surmised

that her clients had nothing to do with her problem. If one of them had lost

something dear to them all they had to do was ask her if she had found it.

True, some of the officials are a bit dim, but I think even they would know

better than to make a problem worse than it was.""I see that.""So it had to be something else entirely.

Why ransack her rooms unless you were looking for something. It had to be

something new. Since nothing was taken, it meant that they didn't find what

they were looking for. To that end I assumed she had another place to spend her

private time. Since she obviously rakes in a lot of money serving the needs of

our great leaders, the place could be expensive. That brought to mind the hotel.

So if what we were seeking was held there, it had to be something she did not

want others to see.""I follow you.""My discussion with the admiral

showed that he was missing more than just a few vintage baubles. He sent a

telegram to Mycroft, who vouched for my absolute impeccable trustworthiness. He

therefore told me about the treaty. It wasn't hard to deduce that the young

lady had it in her possession, even if it was unknowingly.  I found the idea of someone wanting a tool for

sexual pleasuring badly enough to steal it to be ridiculous. Even if it had

some small value, it would be far easier to have a craftsman make a new one.""So who is the leak within his

office?""That Watson is not my problem.

Until such time as the admiral asks for my help, they can deal with it on their

own.""I guess that wraps it up. When

will you hand over the document?""In the morning. No one knows it is

here, and I will lock it in my desk with the rest of my mementos. I have

already left word through one of my Baker's Street Irregulars to inform the

office that it is here.""So then I guess all that's left is

to go to bed and get some sleep, eh Holmes?""Sleep is always optional Watson.

You know that!"The doctor rolled his eyes. "Yes

Holmes. With you, just about everything is optional!"