Dear Sherlock,
Hello again. I'd ask you what you've been doing lately, but I know what you've been up to. Lying six feet below the ground, cold and probably rotting by now. It's a horrible image, and not one that I want to associate with you. I'm not going to think about it, and I will do my best to forget it.
Shall we talk about my life? Seeing as there's not really much else to discuss. I'll start with Greg, because we've been on a rather interesting case lately, concerning a man having his daughter married off to a Spanish man named Fernando Juan. Mr Juan, however, disappeared with his new wife within the week and her father got extremely anxious. He hasn't heard from his daughter since she disappeared, yet they had always been extremely close and she would never have run away without saying something. So now the father's terrified that he's married his daughter to a madman, and he called the police in to help him find her. We've gotten as far as to trace Mr and Mrs Juan back to a hotel on the outskirts, but after that there was no trace, so the case was abandoned by most officers. But Greg and I have hopes that we will find Isabelle Juan and her husband, so we've continued (however unsuccessfully). I hope something will turn up so that we don't have to tell her father that she will probably never be found.
In Baker Street, Mrs Hudson and Nina have been running the shop between them. Nina's taken a break from her artwork to help Mrs Hudson out and decorate the cakes that I make for the café. She said she needed some time away from a paintbrush, which is very true. She usually has one tucked behind her ear, but not this past week. She has a tiny tube of icing there instead. The customers apparently love the cakes so much that they demanded a regular menu of the cakes we sell, meaning that I'm baking every day now. Ginger, chocolate, walnut, carrot, Victoria sponge... Any cake that you can name (within reason) and it's in the oven right now. I'm not complaining though. They pay for themselves in more ways than one.
A recent achievement of mine is that I can now play 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' on the piano! It's terrifically easy. I play it nearly all the time now just because I can, and I think it's annoying Mrs Hudson a bit, because sometimes when I'm around she starts humming it, then she realises what she's doing and shuts up immediately. She made me promise that I'd learn something else that's less infuriating before long, so I've set my sights on the popular piece 'Chopsticks'. I'm still rubbish at it, so it's 'Mary Had a Little Lamb' for now.
Speaking of music, I tuned your violin for you, and I gave it a quick polish. Thought you'd want it in good condition, despite the fact that it'll never be played again. I promise I'll get some new strings for it the next time I go to the music shop.
Love,
Your John.