Christmas time as I have often observed many times is a strange time. Not only is it a time where all nations and people of all walks of life come together which is far fetched in any other time of year, it is also a time where my dear friend Sherlock Holmes does not undertake any case.
This although it does not sound strange to the general public, to me it is one of the most abnormal and peculiar event which has become more and more strange year after year. For one incident, one year on Christmas Day Holmes received a case, which I will write about one day because of it's complex and interesting circumstances and solution, through a telegram of such interest that I did not sleep a wink upon Christmas night and arose on Boxing Day in great confusion. Holmes refused to take the case for at least a week.
This incident although highly interesting is not why I write today. I write off the case of the risen man as I call it. I begin this case upon the morning of Christmas eve, where I had just dressed and come down to find Holmes by the fireplace smoking his pipe and staring into the fire.
He did not see me as I entered as the door was open. I crept to the little desk facing through the window and picked up an opened letter addressed to Holmes.
"You have found the letter which puzzles me Watson."
I jumped round. Holmes was still staring into the fire the pipe gripped tightly in his hand like he was shaking a man's hand.
"What is puzzling about it."
Holmes did not answer the question.
"Holmes?"
"Yes Watson?" he replied, releasing the pipe from his mouth for a mere moment.
"What is puzzling about it?"
"Nothing. At least not at the moment," said Holmes rising from his seat, "It is Christmas and therefore it is not important."
"But surely-"
"Read it if you wish Watson, you may want to take up an enquiry of this sort but for me Christmas is my business and I must complete it. I bid you farewell Watson."
"Where are you going?" I asked hastily as he approached the hall.
"Baker street." he called from beyond the door.
My common sense told me to stay put, but my curiosity told me to continue after Holmes. I followed my curiosity and ran to the stairs. Holmes was at the bottom, Mrs Hudson retrieving his coat.
"Holmes!" I cried racing down the stairs.
Holmes turned and looked me straight in the eye.
"If you wish to pursue this case Watson my advice would be to first read the letter. Good day."
With that Holmes turned, took his hat from Mrs Hudson and left, slamming the door.
"Whatever is the matter with him Dr Watson?"
"I believe it's Christmas Mrs Hudson."
After Holmes sudden department I was left in the house without task. I made my way back to the fireplace and sat in Holmes armchair with the letter he had received in order to deduct like he did.
I withdrew the letter from it's envelope and unfolded it. It was hand written on good quality, expensive paper. I made my first deduction that it was written by someone wealthy with good possessions, a lord or lady perhaps. With this deduction I began to read.
Dear Mr. Holmes,
I write to you of a matter of great importance. I assure you sir, if it was not important I would not be writing. My husband, Sir Gregory Smith was on a trip to the bank one week ago on Monday the 2nd June. He left our house in west London and made his way into the heart of the city past the National Gallery down a road leading just down it towards the bank.
I have accompanied my husband on trips to the bank before and every time he has taken me through a back alley which cuts off at least ten minutes of the journey.
After my husband has departed and completed his business at the bank and has returned home the approximate time he has taken is one hour.
On the Monday 2nd June three hours passed before he returned home. I summoned a cab and took the same route he took until I arrived at the national gallery. I paid the driver and began to make my way towards the back alley.
As I arrived at the alley it occurred to me that I may have not spotted him in the crowds. I dismissed the idea and began to walk down the alley nearing it's exit on to the main road.
At this point I spotted a beggar up ahead mumbling. I walked on and came to the exit. The beggar grabbed my leg. I shook him off but he held on tight moaning something to me.
"Get off me!" I proclaimed.
As I shouted the beggar showed his face and I realised with great horror that it was my husband.
I screamed and a man came running round the corner. I began to cry, trying to explain what had happened. The man ran and got a Constable on duty, whilst he ran to fetch a telephone.
The constable rolled my husband up in a recovery position and told me to stand back. When the man returned he told us that an ambulance was on it's way.
We waited for almost fifteen minutes, I tried to comfort my husband but the constable told us we had to give him room. The ambulance arrived and I was surprised to see my husbands friend Thomas Jones get out of the drivers seat. He ran over to me and comforted me whilst the other paramedic began checking Gregory.
Thomas was interrupted when the paramedic cut in.
"He's dead."
I burst into tears and tried to grab Gregory but Thomas held me back. The paramedic and constable took Gregory away from me swiftly.
The next day Thomas visited me to tell me that they needed identification on Gregory's body.
"I know it was my husband!"
I protested but Thomas forced me to come down to the morgue. Upon my arrival I told myself never to come again, for any reason or request. Thomas led me down through rows and rows of cabinets, inside rotting corpses now, living breathing humans once.
We finally stopped at one cabinet marked Sir Gregory Smith. Tears began to swell up in my eyes again as Thomas took the handle and pulled the cabinet open.
I opened my eyes to see an empty cabinet with a sheet inside.
"Where is he?" I asked.
"I swear this is the cabinet." said Thomas.
He opened the cabinets surrounding Gregory's, all of them were filled with different people.
"Nurse!" he shouted, "Where is Sir Gregory's body?"
The nurse came rushing round the corner.
"I put a body in that cabinet this very morning sir. I swear by it!" the nurse said with a strong cockney accent.
"Was it Sir Gregory's body?"
The nurse was silent. I was afraid she had put the wrong body in the cabinet.
"Yes sir," she exclaimed after a long period of waiting, "I swear by god that it was the body of Sir Gregory, I'd recognise his face anywhere. Seen it every time I've gone."
"Gone where?" enquired Thomas as I began to panic.
"The national gallery. It's right up on the main entrance wall."
This is the reason I require your assistance Mr Holmes. My husband has disappeared from his cabinet, when he has passed away. The nurse who placed my husbands body in the cabinet swears that no one had been in or out of the morgue since she had placed it.
I believe their only to be two theories, one, my husbands body was taken by the nurse or someone who works at the establishment, or two, my husband has risen from the dead.
Please Mr. Holmes I beg of you to help me. Please call at me at my home address written on the letter.
Yours Sincerely Lady Jane Smith,
31 Hall Lane,
West London,
WC2, 3HL
P.S- Please hurry. Every day I worry more and more.
I laid down the letter as a million trail of thoughts came to me. How had Sir Gregory disappeared? Was the morgue involved? Was Lady Jane telling the truth?
"I see you have read the letter Watson."
"Good grief Holmes. You must not frighten me like that." I said breathing deeply.
"I must confess Watson that the letter is so very interesting, I would say a three pipe case." Holmes said after much thought.
"But how can a man rise from the dead Holmes. It's nonsense."
"Nonsense indeed Watson but you are getting ahead of yourself. You are making the amateur mistake of asking the wrong questions."
"What do you mean Holmes?" I pondered.
"Firstly what was Sir Gregory doing on his way to the bank?"
"Banking a cheque?"
"A simple solution Watson, but was he?"
"We can surely ask Lady Jane?" I said.
"Certainly Watson, we can ask Lady Jane many questions," Holmes exclaimed, "Question two why was Sir Gregory found like he was? Why did he die? A question in that letter which Lady Jane has failed to take to our attention." Holmes performed.
"Attacked by some muggers." I suggested.
"Again Watson your simplicity of suggestions, out stands me . Question three was it just coincidence that Thomas Jones a friend of Sir Gregory was so close."
"Coincidences do occur Holmes."
"Coincidences like this are ones I take a particular dis-liking to Watson. I confess that I have been trying to find the answers to these un-answered questions but have been unsuccessful. Come Watson." he commanded like an owner to a dog.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Lady Jane's house. We must answer question one. I also believe Sir Gregory's occupation would help in a motive for question two. The address is on the letter is it not?"
"It is." I replied.
"Well then Watson, we must leave." he said retrieving the letter from my hand and a pipe from his desk.
I followed Holmes downstairs as he grabbed his coat and secured his hunting hat.
"Mrs Hudson!" Holmes called.
Mrs Hudson poked her head round the kitchen door.
"Yes sir?"
"Have supper prepared for half past six. We will return ready for the meal."
Holmes ran through the door.
"Do you know what he wants Dr?"
"Madame unfortunately I haven't the faintest idea."
"I thought you said he didn't take cases at Christmas." Mrs Hudson said.
"Madame unfortunately I haven't the faintest idea." I repeated as I could think of no other thing to say.
I closed the door behind me and approached a waiting cab. I climbed in and Holmes looked me in the eye.
"Watson, there is one question you could answer for me?"
"I will try my best." I said curiously.
"Why do I get the strangest cases at Christmas?"
"Not even I can answer that with simplicity Holmes."
Holmes chuckled and we began to make our way to Lady Jane's home, I hoped that some of our questions would be answered although my common sense told me they would not.
Holmes and I arrived at Lady Jane's house at two o'clock. Holmes went to the front door with a spring in his step and knocked three times.
"What if Lady Jane refuses to answer our questions?" I asked.
"She won't."
"She won't?"
"Not at first. It will take some persuading." Holmes answered.
A housekeeper opened the door and looked up and down Holmes from head to tail.
"Lady Jane is not taking any visitors!"
"We are expected," said Holmes handing over the letter, "Tell her Sherlock Holmes is here."
The housekeeper snatched the letter and slammed the door.
"Do you think she'll let us in?" I asked.
"Watson, I believe her tone will have completely changed."
The housekeeper opened the door again.
"Merry Christmas sir!" she said with a smile.
Holmes stepped in and beckoned me to follow.
"As I said Watson." he muttered as the housekeeper lead us along a corridor to the last door on the left.
She knocked and opened the door slightly before swinging it open and announcing us.
"Mr Holmes thank goodness you could come." Lady Jane said looking up from her book.
"When a case presents itself to me madame I am powerless over acceptance."
I lurked at the back as Holmes pointed at a seat which was best suited for his likings.
"Yes please sit down Mr. Holmes and you too Mr?....."
"This is my friend and colleague Dr Watson, he hears what I hear." informed Holmes before I could speak.
"Please sit down Dr Watson." Lady Jane said.
I sat down in the last available seat and cleared my mind ready for my friends usual frenzy over a case.
"Now Mr. Holmes before we begin I want you to know that the only thing I want to find out is where my husbands body is and why it has been moved."
"In your letter you said that your husband may have risen from the dead, did you not?"
"It seems like a very improbable theory Mr Holmes."
"When you have eliminated the impossible whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth, as I have often told my friend here."
"Well it is not for me or you to decide but it is for you to find out." Lady Jane said standing tall and proud.
"Before I can continue with investigations I need some information, some certain questions which need to be answered. It would ease me of my pains if you would answer them." Holmes said removing a pipe from his pocket.
"I will try my best Mr Holmes."
Holmes put his pipe in his mouth and rubbed his hands together.
"What business brought him to the bank on the Monday?"
"He was requesting a loan on a house development and had a meeting with the manager."
"Very interesting Lady Jane. Did he receive the loan?"
"I do not know. You will have to talk to the manager."
"Thank you make a note of that Watson," Holmes muttered, "What is your husbands occupation? I need this answer and an opinion of why your husband was killed."
"He is-" she gulped, "he was a doctor, but he was interested in many things, he used to work in the entertainment business and then studied as a lawyer and then became a doctor. He was a man of many things."
"With this in mind madame please could you give me my opinion on why your husband was murdered?" Holmes asked with caution.
"I don't know Mr Holmes. He was a doctor why would any one want to kill a doctor?"
I shuddered as she said this and shuffled round in my chair.
"Perhaps he was mugged, or his origins he is half German." she suggested.
"Watson came to the same theory, it seem the most probable. Question three, do you believe it is a coincidence that Thomas Jones, friend of your husband was in the area at the time?"
"What a stupid question!" shouted Lady Jane.
I looked down at the floor trying not to catch Lady Jane's eye.
"I'm sorry Mr Holmes. No I do not think it is a coincidence, I have known Thomas for years and he has always driven ambulances in those areas. We see him sometimes when we go to the national gallery." Lady Jane answered politely.
"Thank you very much Lady Jane, it has been a pleasure."
Holmes rose and bowed to Lady Jane smiling for a mere moment. I stood up and looked at her.
"Please excuse his behaviour, he is slightly eccentric." I told her.
"I understand Dr Watson." she replied.
I bowed to her and left the room. Holmes was in the hall talking to the housekeeper.
"Merry Christmas to you to Miss." Holmes said to her.
"Good day miss." I said to her.
We left and walked down the street until a cab came past.
"Well what do you make of this case Watson?" asked Holmes.
"It seems so simple yet so baffling." I replied.
"So it seems." he said.
"You mean you have solved it?"
"Far from it Watson, yet so close."
"Do you believe that Sir Gregory has risen from the dead."
I waited but he did not answer the question. We got on the cab and Holmes shouted out a bank's address.
"Do we mean to talk to the bank manager?" I enquired.
"Yes Watson." Holmes replied.
I stared up at the tall long building of the London incorporated bank. The rain blew against my face and the wind swept me of my feet. The bank appeared to be a centre of evil as I and Holmes opened the door and stepped in.
"I am sure the manager will see us at once." Holmes said.
We made our way to the front desk where a clerk sat behind typing.
"I would like to see the manager of the bank." announced Holmes.
"Do you have an appointment?" she asked.
"Tell the manager that Mr. Sherlock Holmes wishes to see him."
The clerk stood up immediately and bowed.
"Sir."
She hurried to the managers office as Holmes turned towards me and did his brief smile.
"Being famous does have it's usefulness Watson."
"So I see." I said.
The clerk returned and bowed again.
"The manager will see you Mr Holmes."
"Thank you." Holmes cried.
He jumped past the clerk and marched to the door. I followed him apologising again to the clerk.
I followed Holmes inside the office and closed the door behind me. Holmes stood silent staring at the bank manager, sitting in his chair with his back to us.
"Hope we are not intruding." Holmes said.
The manager spun round in his chair holding a cigar.
"Mr Holmes it's an honour sir," the manager said rising from his chair, " I'm Mr Moore and you are?" he said to me.
"This is Dr Watson my friend and assistant." Holmes interrupted again.
"Pleased to meet you doctor. Please sit down."
Holmes and I took a chair and Holmes cleared his throat.
"I only want to ask you one question Mr Moore."
"Please go ahead, smoke?" he said.
"No thank you I prefer my pipe. Now Mr Moore although this may be classified confidential I need you to tell me the truth to aid me in my investigations. Did you agree for the loan to Sir Gregory?"
"Well Mr Holmes that is a confidential matter. I am not sure, the police did not ask me that question."
"I am better than the police Mr Moore."
Moore took a puff of his cigar and thought deeply.
"I suppose if it helps you find out what has happened. Yes, I did give the loan to Sir Gregory but I have not yet put it in his bank account."
"Do you plan to?" asked Holmes.
"That depends on whether or not he is alive."
"You believe that he may have risen from the dead?"
"It is a possibility, I am a man of god not of science." Moore answered.
"Thank you Mr Moore."
Holmes rose and placed his hat on his head.
"Nice to meet you Mr Holmes." Moore said.
"And you Mr Moore."
Holmes left. I smiled at Moore.
"Goodbye Dr Watson."
"Have a nice day." I said.
Holmes was waiting outside.
"Where to now Holmes?" I asked.
"Baker street." he replied.
"Have you forgotten Mr Jones." I asked.
"No Watson I have not, but I and you must return to 221b baker street immediately."
I did not ask why Holmes and I had to return to Baker Street immediately as I knew that I would not receive an answer, but was curious as to why and what was most likely waiting for us when we arrived.
Holmes and I arrived half an hour later and went up to our chamber. I could find no visitor and sat in my usual seat thinking hard of the case. Holmes smoked his pipe and stared out the window. The silence was unbearable.
"Holmes." I said.
He did not answer.
"Holmes I'm going out to my club." I told him.
Holmes did not reply and I left taking my hat and coat and walking down Baker street to my club which I stayed in for at least two hours. I could not stand to return to Baker street the house filled with smoke. Finally I realised it was almost half past six and had to return for dinner.
I quickly made my way back to my lodgings until I reached the door. I took a final gulp of fresh air and went inside.
"You're here Dr Watson dinner is almost prepared."
"Thank you Mrs Hudson. I shall tell Holmes."
I quietly went upstairs and into the chamber. Holmes was still sitting by the fire smoking his pipe. The air was thick with smoke and I coughed and choked until Holmes turned round.
"I agree with you Watson it is perhaps a little thick."
"Thick! It's ghastly!" I cried trying to find my chair in the smoke.
"In your absence this affair has become more complex."
"How?" I asked.
"I had a visit from Mr Jones." Holmes said.
"How peculiar!"
"Not at all Watson. I had deducted that he would arrive at our lodgings out of curiosity."
"Did he answer your question?" I asked.
"He answered more than he wanted to." Holmes remarked.
"You interrogated him?"
"I did nothing of the sort. He just did not realise that he was saying too much," Holmes answered, "I could detect it from his face and how he said the things he did. But come I will tell you more of my discoveries during supper."
Mrs Hudson brought our supper to our chamber and we dined there. Holmes was silent until we had finished the main course. He then sat back in his chair and took out his evening pipe.
"Now Watson I will tell you the much more interesting fact which I have discovered. As I say Watson publicity can be useful an with this in mind and the newly discovered fact of Mr Jones at my fingertips I left the house and made my way on a cab to Westminster.
"I arrived and went straight to the houses of parliament through the members of Parliament entrance after convincing a policeman it was to aid my investigation I went into the records room. I searched for no longer than three quarters of an hour before confirming my suspicions.
"After finding this piece of information I wanted to be sure of it's continuity so made another short trip to Downing street down to number ten. Another encounter with a policeman on which I told him was for national security reasons I then went to the prime ministers office.
"After my meeting on which I told him of the fact and it's continuity I was able to conduct a plan involving the police and return to Baker street with only one more matter to solve."
"Good grief Holmes!" I exclaimed.
"Unfortunately I don't have time to explain as I and you need to make a trip to the national gallery."
Before I could ask him of any of the answers of the questions I now needed to ask, as Holmes grabbed me and took me to a cab.
"Holmes why are we going to the National gallery?" I asked.
I asked although I knew that we would not get an answer. The cab went at at full speed and we arrived at the gallery in no less than half an hour.
"Hurry Watson!" Holmes cried, "We have no time to spare."
Holmes sprinted through the doors as I followed him. Holmes and I were in the main entrance. Holmes stopped in the middle and very slowly began to look round.
"Holmes what are you doing!" I shouted.
He ignored me and ran up another set of stairs to the first floor. He paused again for a moment before I heard a shriek.
"Holmes!" I cried.
I ran to help him but as I arrived I realised he was not in trouble. He was staring at a photograph of Sir Gregory with a message reading "Donated To The Arts In Great Proportion." Underneath was a short biography of Sir Gregory.
Holmes turned to look at me and smiled this time longer than one moment.
"Watson we have all the evidence we need. Now if you will follow me, we must make a visit to the morgue."
I followed Holmes to our cab and we drove like the wind to the morgue. I couldn't help shake the feeling that Holmes was going into a trap. My common sense told me to return to Baker street immediately but my curiosity told me to accompany Holmes. As usual I followed my curiosity.
Holmes and I stopped just outside the morgue in a back alley.
"Quiet Watson we must not allow him to know were hear." Holmes whispered to me.
Holmes and I waited for a few minutes until an ambulance parked outside the morgue's garage. Thomas Jones climbed out and opened up the garage doors. He got back in and reversed backwards into the garage before getting out again and walking inside.
"Now Watson this is their chance."
"Who's chance?" I asked.
Before my eyes a group of about twenty policeman emerged from the alley opposite, a detective and Superintendent behind him. They crept silently towards the garage surrounding it.
"Go Watson."
Holmes pushed me forward and we made our way to the detective and Superintendent.
"Holmes! Thank goodness you're here!" whispered the superintendent.
"Were ready for the go when you are." the detective said.
"When Jones returns to the van with the ambulance table pounce on him."
I stood still in silence ready for something to happen. Suddenly there was a shout and the policeman ran into the garage.
"Come Watson!" Holmes cried.
Holmes and I ran to the garage to see the police officers handcuffing Thomas Jones and another man at the back.
"Who is the second man?" I asked Holmes.
The police officers forced him forward and I stared in astonishment as Sir Gregory's face was revealed to me.
"Well Watson another case solved."
I rose late on Christmas morning and found Holmes already seated in his usual spot smoking his morning pipe.
"Merry Christmas Watson." he said standing up and smiling the longest I have seen him.
"Merry Christmas Holmes." I replied.
I sat down in my chair and was silent. I could not resist the urge and blurted it out.
"How did you solve it?!"
Holmes turned to me.
"You wish to know?" he asked.
"Yes Holmes."
He turned and prepared himself taking one more puff on his pipe before beginning his story.
"I suspected from the beginning that it was no coincidence that Thomas Jones was in the area so I rang the London Ambulance service and asked them. They told me that Jones drove on the east side of London and didn't go into the middle or the east at all. This told me that Thomas Jones was there on purpose, of course I did not know any reason as to why he was there so I continued to deduct.
"I next turned my attention to the motive. I thought for many hours on why he had been killed but could not find any reason, he was a happy, wealthy man. I then thought of something he had done to one of his patients and why they would want revenge. I looked up records of his surgery but was stopped in my tracks by something very peculiar."
"What?" I asked.
"Sir Gregory wasn't a doctor at all. There were no records of any patients. I looked up his degree. He did not have one. This presented me with another question what was his real occupation? I could tell Lady Jane was telling the truth so thought of where I had heard the name Gregory Smith before?
"This search brought me to an interesting story about a Boer war spy. Sir Gregory was the spy."
"You mean Sir Gregory is a British spy!?" I exclaimed.
"Yes, working for MI6. I wanted to check this information so made my trip to the houses of parliament and downing street. The prime minister in fact range the chief of MI6 to check that Sir Gregory was a spy. It was confirmed and now my theory was complete with the knowledge I had learnt from my encyclopaedia and the Boer war story.
"Sir Gregory although at that time was called George Smith originally was working for the German spies but was won over by the English. It was my theory that he still had connections with the Germans and was feeding them information along with the help of Thomas Jones, who was receiving money in return. Conflict is growing in Europe and it is my belief that it may be Sir Gregory who is helping this as he feeds them more and more information.
"After so much information being fed the only thing Sir Gregory could do was to leave England and depart to Germany where he would be safe from investigations. Sir Gregory is a well known man and could not just disappear as his wife and other people would search for him. He had to die.
"He arranged for a loan as an excuse for him to leave the house, he goes and has the meeting with the manager and then goes to the alley. Waiting for him is Thomas Jones who rips his clothes and punches him to make him appear beaten.
"Sir Gregory knows that his wife will come looking for him and prepares himself. Jones leaves ready to return at the time specified.
"When he spots his wife Sir Gregory drops to the ground hidden from sight. As his wife appears he grabs her leg revealing himself and his fate. Jones arrives on time and by chance the policeman called them although if he had not appeared Jones would have driven round the area anyway.
"The paramedic comes to check Sir Gregory and he appears to be dead. They load him into the back and drive to the morgue all the time Sir Gregory appearing to be dead. When they reach the morgue they place him on a tray and the nurse takes him to a cabinet.
"When she has left Sir Gregory get himself out of the cabinet by pushing it open and sliding out of a tray. He hides in a cellar where food and water has already been placed by Jones on a previous visit to the morgue.
"When Jones and Lady Jane return to identify the body it appears Sir Gregory has risen from the dead which begun our involvement."
Holmes finished. I was shocked at how he had un-ravelled it all.
"There's two things I don't understand Holmes."
"Please go ahead." he said.
"Why did Sir Gregory and Jones wait so long to escape?" I asked.
"Because it had to appear to Lady Jane and the police that the body had gone missing and would never be found." Holmes answered.
"Second, how did Sir Gregory appear to be dead."
"That was something that puzzled me Watson. You see I could not think that a trained paramedic could not find someone's pulse. Do you remember what Lady Jane said when I asked her what Sir Gregory's occupation was?"
"Yes I remember."
"She said doctor. Although that turned out be a lie. But, she said he had a previous occupation in entertainment. A thought came to my head that Sir Gregory could have been a magician. I confirmed this by reading his brief biography in the national gallery."
"I still don't understand Holmes."
"It is possible for magicians to stop their own pulse. If they are fit and healthy enough they are bale to stop their pulse for a few seconds. It takes years of long practice but it is possible. Sir Gregory performed this trick."
"Good god Holmes you really have solved it!" I exclaimed.
"I know Watson but we have more important things to deal with now."
I braced myself for another case as Holmes reached for something next to his chair. He revealed it to be a present wrapped in beautiful wrapping paper.
"Thank you Holmes!" I said.
I un-tied the string and the wrapping paper gently to keep the paper because of it's lovely pattern. I took out a large bottle of whisky and chuckled.
"Thank you Holmes. I have something for you here as a matter of fact." I said.
I picked up another present by the tree and handed it to Holmes. He unwrapped and smiled picking out a brand new magnifying glass.
"Watson you shouldn't have." he said.
I laughed and smiled as the snow outside the window made the perfect post card scene.