"Holmes, have you seen what's in the paper this morning?" I flicked the newspaper up to read out the article that had caught my attention. " 'The Diogenes Club, a gentleman's club for those gentleman who prefer silence over all else, was set aflame last night after an arsonist attacked. The fire lasted seven hours before firemen could put it out, with four members injured and two casualties. The arsonist has not yet been found.' " I let the paper fall to my lap. "That's your brother's club, is it not?"

Holmes quickly grabbed the paper, scanning for the article. "Yes, it is." He read the article with furrowed brow, slowly sitting down in his chair.

"I'm sure someone would have come tell you if something had happened," I tried to reassure him, but he hardly seemed to hear. Even as I finished my breakfast and got out my pen and notebook, foregoing my usual volunteering at the charity hospital until we had more news, Holmes sat pensively in his chair, alternately rereading the article and staring at the doorway as though waiting for someone to arrive.

It was not until midday that we had a visitor. The sound of boots on the stairs had us both sitting upright, exchanging nervous glances. Although I had known Mycroft some years at that point, I must confess my worry was more for Holmes' reaction to the news than what the news would be. I remembered the pain of losing my own brother, and would never wish my friend to suffer the same.

The man who came through the door was not a police officer, as I had secretly feared, nor anyone I recognised. He was perfectly nondescript, to such a degree it surely must have been planned. "Good afternoon, Mr Holmes, Dr Watson," he said, tipping his hat politely. He held up a letter. "I have a message from Mr Mycroft Holmes."

Holmes nearly snatched the letter out of his hand, opening it and skimming through it with all haste. I was scarcely less impatient, but did my best to reign it in, relieved that at least Mycroft was alive and in well enough shape to be writing letters.

Holmes looked over at me, a broad grin lighting up his face. "Mycroft was not at the club last night, he had already gone home. And now he wants us on the case!"

I answered my friend's grin with my own. "I'm sure I already know your answer."