Prologue

"HOLMES!" Watson stood at the window, squinting down at the street at the blue box parked there.

"What is it, Watson?" Holmes appeared at his elbow in his dressing gown, dark rings under his eyes testifying to sleepless nights spent mulling over the lack of problems there were to mull over. Well, it appeared that a very real one had just appeared below their modest flat.

Watson opened his mouth to reply but Holmes was already stepping in front of him, obscuring his view of the street and the blue box with letters on its partitioned front doors that Watson couldn't read.

"What does it say?" said Watson, feeling about as excited as a child on Christmas morning. Holmes, too, was behaving as though he'd just been handed a new toy to play with. A big, beautiful toy called a Police Box.

"Police...Box..." Ennunciated Holmes. "Public...Pull to Open..."

"Police...Box," mused Watson. "Like the Yard, do you think? Is Lestrade inside it?"

"I wouldn't think so," said Holmes slowly. He bit down on a pipe clenched in between his teeth. "It's not something Lestrade would really do." He didn't add that it was just too clever, somehow. And Lestrade wasn't terribly brilliant.

"Only one way to find out!" Cried Holmes, and spun away from the window, his eyes sparkling with glee. "Come on, Watson! I have a queer feeling about this one!"

And he was right to.