December 31: "8, 4, 3, 7, and 2" (from silvermouse)

A/N: Due to what appears to be some sort of technical glitch, all reviews posted to my story during the last two days have come to my email, but have not posted to the Reviews page, and I can't reply to them. I've notified FanFiction's support of this and hope it's soon fixed.

So thanks to Garonne, KnightFury, I'm Nova, Domina Temporis, and Wordweilder for your lovely reviews! (And hopefully everything's soon fixed and they get posted.)

Watson

One day, Holmes received a very cryptic note, which contained nothing but five numbers: 8, 4, 3, 7, and 2. There was no signature, nor note, nor anything to identify its meaning or from whence it came.

"What do you suppose it means?" I asked.

Holmes shook his head. "I do not know."

"Perhaps it is simply a joke," I suggested.

"It would be someone with a very unique sense of humour," said Holmes with a chuckle.

"Well, could it reference a book?" I asked. "You know, like Porluck did before the case of the Valley of Fear."

Holmes shrugged. "Perhaps."

I pulled the latest almanac from the shelf, but found page 8, nor 84 made much sense when I picked out the corresponding words, and there were not 843 pages. I set it down with a sigh, and saw with some slight surprise that Holmes had pulled a Bible out of a drawer and was flipping through it.

"Well, I thought perhaps the number might refer to book, chapter, and verses," said he. "Ruth is the eighth book, and though short, has four chapters. Let me see… Ah, here is verse three: 'He said to the near relative: Naomi, who has come back from the Mohabite plateau, is putting up for sale the piece of land that belonged to our kinsman Elimelech.' Not very promising."

"No, I am inclined to think not," I agreed.

"What, then, is seven?" Holmes muttered. "'Now it used to be the custom in Israel that, to make binding a contract of redemption or exchange, one party would take off his sandal and give it to the other. This was the form of attestation in Israel.' An interesting bit of historical information, but I do not think it is what we are looking for."

"Could it refer to a date, or a time?" I asked.

Holmes frowned. "August 34th of '72, Watson? Or 34 minutes past eight on the 72nd day of…something or other? I hardly think that likely. Perhaps it is a location, of some sort. Do you know of any where with an address of 843 on a 72nd Street, or a 372 on an 84th Street?"

I shook my head.

Holmes shrugged. "It was just an idea."

"Perhaps we could find another book?" I suggested.

"I think not," Holmes replied.

We sat in quiet contemplation for several minutes, when Holmes gave a sudden exclamation of joy, and sprang to his informational index. "I knew I had seen these numbers before, Watson!" he said.

I followed him, and was surprised to see him digging through an index of American tourist attractions.

"Here it is!" said he. "'Central Park is an urban park in middle-upper Manhattan, New York City. It opened in 1857 on 778 acres of city-owned land, and was expanded to its current size of 843 acres in 1873.' And unless I am much mistaken, there is a point where 72nd Street in New York meets with Central Park."

"Do you suppose some crime was perpetrated there?" I asked.

"Perhaps!" Holmes replied, eyes bright.

At that moment, there was a ring at the bell, and our friend Lestrade was ushered into the sitting room a minute later.

"Do you have any cases on hand at present?" he asked.

Holmes picked up our cryptic note hand held it out to the police detective. "Nothing but this, but it seems promising."

"What do you make of it?" Lestrade asked.

"Well, from what we are supposing, something has or will happen in New York City, where 72nd Street meets Central Park," I said.

"I think that unlikely," said Lestrade.

Holmes and I stared at him curiously, and Lestrade laughed.

"Gregson sent this," he said. "He thought it would be interesting to see what you would do with it."

Holmes growled and threw the paper into the fire. "Confound it, Watson! You were right at the start. A strange practical joke! And a unique sense of humor behind it…that is a perfect picture of Gregson. Well, I suppose I should thank you for informing us before we got too far in our deductions."

"Happy to help," Lestrade replied, with a smile that rather made me think he had known about Gregson's little note and purposefully waited to see what would happen.

And the Scotland Yard Inspectors had the nerve to say that Holmes and I were difficult to handle! To be fair, we were, but they did plenty to keep our lives interesting as well.

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!

Thanks to all who have read and reviewed, and a big thanks to Hades Lord of the Dead for putting all of this together!