Today's Prompt: Watson's been sworn to secrecy on a great many cases, but this, THIS has just got to come out: (from ThatSassyCaptain)

Sherlock Holmes is often correct when everyone else is left in the dark. When he is unable to find a solution, usually no one is. But on a rare occasion, my friend has been in the wrong when the official force was in the right. As he has often said, it is the simple, commonplace crimes that present the most difficulty. To preserve his professional reputation, he swore me to secrecy, but now that he has long since retired, I believe it is only fair to paint a more human picture of my friend, as it is only human to err.

It was about the middle of the morning, by that point, both of us were up and we're toward the end of our breakfast, when a nervous man burst into our flat. He was a middle-aged, portly fellow in a state of severe excitement.

Without giving Holmes a chance to speak or even pausing for introductions, he exclaimed, "You must help me, Mr. Holmes! You must! I just won't feel safe until he's been caught!"

"I only know that you have a clumsy maid, two grown sons and a recently deceased wife, and that you came into wealth through a successful business, as well as several smaller points. Pray be seated and when you are comfortable you can tell us your tale," said Holmes, languidly taking his place reclining in his seat by the fire.

I hastily joined him.

The man perched on the settee, still wringing his hands, and related his tale of woe; "It was the most dreadful thing! You're right, of course, Mr. Holmes. It's just me and the maid at home, and she is a little clumsy at times, but she's been good for all the years I've had her on. With just the two of us in the house, we're an easy pick for burglars. We had a break-in just the other night, I found the safe empty in the morning. Oh, Mr. Holmes! I don't know what to do! Some of my dear wife's jewels were taken among other things. It may not be much to another man, but it's a heavy hit to me, and I won't feel safe at home until I know he's been caught!"

When at last he was done, Holmes glanced over at me. "What do you say, Watson? Shall we take a look?"

We followed the man to his humble abode. The place was already overrun by police officers, gathering evidence. The senior-most of them met Holmes at the gate.

"Mr. Holmes, what are you doing here? I'm afraid it's an open and shut burglary; there's not much for you to do. We have a few witness accounts of the culprit and are looking for our man now."

"I wouldn't presume to get in your way. At your leave, my friend and I will just have a little look around."

"If you're certain," the officer reluctantly assented.

Holmes slowly wandered around the house. Then he went inside and evaluated the scene of the crime. As they passed through the dining room he let out a sudden exclamation and dropped to his knees, pulling out his magnifying glass. Clutched in his other hand was a shard of glass that he slipped into a small pouch for further examination.

"The case deepens," he remarked, before continuing on his way.

When it came time to question the witnesses, he first spoke with the maid.

"What did you serve for dinner last night?" he asked with the utmost interest.

She hesitated. "Just a stew, sir."

He shook his head in dismay. "And for dessert?"

"A trifle."

Holmes let out a barking laugh. "It is the trifles that are always most important, wouldn't you say, Watson?"

I couldn't fathom what he was getting at. "I suppose."

"It's suggestive, isn't it?"

"How so?"

He just shook his head.

When it was time to leave he remarked, "It appears simple, but there are some suggestive features. I will have to look into it further."

The officer in charge was as baffled as I, but neither of us dared argue with the expert.

"It is a deeper matter than I had thought," exclaimed Holmes as he strode into the flat. He did not lapse into his chair, but set about pacing across the sitting room in agitation. "For days I have searched and yet I have trouble making heads or tales of the matter."

"You are referring to the burglary?" I asked to be certain.

"What else? You may laugh, and Officer Jones too, but for each clue I have found, there arise more to contradict it. Each theory I form must be tossed aside in turn. There is something I'm missing, but I cannot begin to hypothesize what."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually," I attempted, but I was not sure what to say.

That earned me a wry smile. "You are right Watson, you have the makings for brilliance yet. There is no use in theorizing without facts. Hand me my violin and perhaps we can find a more pleasant way to while away a few hours."

In such a manner, a few hours passed, until our landlady arrived with a telegram in hand. Holmes leaped up and grabbed it out of her hand. It took but an instant for him to read it before he let out a sharp laugh and tossed it over to me.

The telegram read, "Wanted to let you know, burglary solved, culprit confessed, nothing out of ordinary."

"I fear I have been chasing after nothing," Holmes said, lapsing back into his chair with a self-deprecating smile. "If nothing else, this has been an important reminder that at times things are just coincidences. Watson, you must swear you will never publish this among my successes, or I fear your reading public will never forgive us."