CHAPTER 2

Throwing the newspaper down in front of Watson, I walked over to the window in his study. "Another professor dead John. One Arnold Whitaker" I said, looking down at the bustling city below as he gave me that I-Know-What-Your-Doing look. "Why are you telling me this Sherlock?" He asked, slowly picking up the paper and glancing through it. I turned back to him, holding my hands behind my back, "just thought you should know". "For what reason?". "Incase you decided to investigate. I can tell you want to" i replied, keeping a straight face and he sighed, standing up and walking over next to me, "I'm done Sherlock. You know that. I gave the mystery game up a long time ago". "Yes, you can take the man out of the mystery but you can't take the mystery out of the man... Or visa versa in your case, the other way around you know. You want to solve this mystery John, you just don't know it yet". "Holmes, your talking nonsense. I haven't heard from you in three months and then you suddenly barge in here and throw a newspaper at me! Your completely mad and if I didn't know you better I'd have sent you straight to the sanatorium" he shouted, flinging the paper at me which I easily caught, "you know, you'd be surprised at how many people actually tell me that". He threw his hands up in frustration before marching over and sitting back down at his desk. Patiently, I waited for him to speak. It wouldn't take long. It never did.

"Why did you ask me here? Why not sent it in the post? Or even have a personal delivery man? Why did you come yourself?" He finally asked. "Because, my dear naive Watson, I don't trust anyone else but myself" I replied. "A paper? You don't trust anyone enough to sent a NEWSPAPER? Something that you can buy AROUND THE CORNER?" He asked as I gave it back to him, "Ah, but you see, this is no ordinary newspaper. Read out page 14 if you please". Looking at me with a mixture of disbelief and confusion, he picked up the paper again, turning to the requested page. "Which part?" He asked. "Why Watson, you honestly have to ask? My scrawly script of course". "Your writing. Right" he muttered, "...This doesn't make any sense". "Doesn't make any sense? Doesn't make any SENSE? Of course it makes sense. I wrote it" I replied, "now, come on, read out the first paragraph". "If you insist" he said, turning his attention back to my handwritten notes, "019209, H.G, K, T". "That makes perfectly good sense. You just got to read between the lines Watson" I said and he sighed, "fine, what are the numbers for?". "01 is the day, the first, 92 is this year, 1892, and 09 is the month, the 9th or in other words, September" I replied automatically. "Why is it in the wrong order?" He asked. "Why not?". "Because it's a strange way to put it". "And I'm not the slightest bit strange myself? Moving on" I said, beginning to pace the room. "H.G, what does that stand for?". "Harold Griffiths. One of the men murdered, a politician he was". "And the K?". "Knife. That's how he died... Or rather got killed". "Then the T? What does that mean?" He asked and I smirked, "Thief. That's what he worked as". "He was a thief? But you just said he wa-". "A politician" I said cutting him off, "yes, and he was. But in my views, all politicians are thieves".

"And I presume you have thought up some crazy theory to as why and how he died?" Watson asked and I shook my head, "I'm out of the game John, I promised you that I was done, so now I'm done, finished, goodbye, see you later" I replied and he stared at me suspiciously. "Your doing this case aren't you?". "Of course not, what utter nonsense". "Don't lie to me Sherlock. I can see that familiar old glimmer in your eyes. Your on the case. Even though you swore you were retired". "I prefer the term... Out of action" I replied. "That term still leaves possibilities" he countered and i grinned, turning to him as i stopped pacing, "of course. That term leaves many great, amazing possibilities. For you can never rule anything out can you Watson?".

"Your on the case" he said after another few minutes and I began pacing again, "no, I'm not". "Your doing it aren't you?". "What insanity has overcome you?". "Admit it". "I admit nothing that I have or have not done". "You don't make much sense". "Was there ever a time I did?" I asked and he sighed, "No. You never did, did you... Well tell me, what does Mycroft say about this?". Oh he HAD to go there didn't he? "I have not informed my brother yet" I said simply. "Yet? As in, you will?". "As in, it leaves yet another possibility to whether I shall or shall not do what you request" I replied. "Sherlock" he warned but I ignored him. "Look at me Holmes". Slowly I stopped and turned to him, "yes?". "You must promise me, under any circumstances, you will NOT DO THIS CASE" he said and i sighed, patting him on the shoulder as I headed for the door, "you should know me by now Watson. I don't make promises i might not keep". "Sherlock. Don't. You. Dare". "Nevertheless I shall try my best to ignore the men and women being ruthlessly murdered outside my own back door. Good day Watson". "That's an ORDER Holmes" he calling me back. "I don't take orders Dr. Watson. Not even from the king himself". "What, so that's it? Your going to leave just like that?". "Well not just like that. I need my newspaper back if you would" I replied, walking back up to his desk. "No" he said, taking the newspaper from my reach, "if I give you this paper, your going to do this case and try and solve the mystery". "Fine, keep it. I have another copy" i said, pulling out another paper from the inside of my jacket. "Sherlock. Give" he ordered but I shook my head, heading back to the door for the second time today. "Your impossible" he shouted, throwing the first paper back at me. Smirking, I picked it up, tossing the second paper to him. "There's a very interesting article on page 17. I suggest you check it out". And before he could reply, I shut the door behind me.