From Book girl fan: Mrs Hudson needs a special helper.
"There, you've got them just right. I daresay they won't notice. And if I refill the beaker just so…" Mrs. Hudson made her little arrangements on the chemistry table. She lifted a lifeless arm and slide a sheet of paper underneath the hand. Perfect. "You'll need to make the final touches after I go. It'll hardly do to be that close at hand when they come round. After all the thinking we had to do on the numbers…"
She shook her head. "The paper will set him on the wrong track well enough. And you'll have to take your usual fee from Mister Holmes, dear. Doctor Watson hasn't been well of late and you know how our Mary is. She'll not take kindly to us returning him in worse shape than we sent him." She paused, crossed to the armchair, and shifted the drooping newspaper back into the cold hand. "Heaven knows she's tidied up a number of scares herself. But we'll have no quarrel from her on this one. Playing with fire gets one burned after all."
She stepped back from her work. The beaker was stirring noxious but hardly fatal fumes into the sitting room. Her lodgers were slumped in their respective seats, looking for all the world as if they were taking the most unusual nap.
"Feel free to take your fill from Mrs. Jones' cat though, dearie. It's a horrible beast. This is the fifth time we've had to fix them up this month and I know it doesn't go easy on you." Mrs. Hudson made for the door. "I'll count to ten and then start knocking. You do your part, and if it isn't too much trouble, let our Mary know in advance. Poor dear does not like surprises."
She left the temporary corpses in her helper's capable hands. The fewer fatal discoveries made by accident, the better, but it was hard work un-discovering them. "The things we do for the poor souls…" She muttered and finished her count. Three, two one…
"Mister Holmes? Mister Holmes, what is that awful smell? I hope you haven't been burning my rug again. Mister Holmes!"
A/N: does that count as special