I recall it was a cold and foggy morning in the summer of 188- and we were at breakfast when a telegram arrived for Holmes. Holmes had been distracted and keeping to himself of late. He was often confined for days on end within his room. At other times he would lie upon the couch gazing vacantly at the ceiling and smoking his pipe. A silent restlessness betrayed his passive demeanor as he frequently enquired after the mail.
A nervous storm was clearly brewing and it was liable to break in any short matter of time. I knew that the precipitation of a fresh case to consume the energies of this remarkable man was imminent.
Little did I know, however, of how significant, grave and fateful a case it would be in deciding the fate of an entire continent
The storm broke with the arrival of the telegram.
Having abandoned all pretence at eating breakfast Holmes hurriedly read through the note. Every word read seemed to add to the weight of its import. A grave and feverish excitement was much in evidence as Holmes leaped to his feet and cried:
“Your bags, my good Watson! Pack your bags at once! For we have such travel to embark upon as brooks no delay. Make haste, my dear Doctor. To Paddington. At once!”
As it happened, I was scheduled to watch a new Quentin Tarantino film that very afternoon; I could not possibly miss it. I had also planned on a tranquil morning of leisure to precede the show and was seized with no great enthusiasm to upset that plan.
“My dear Holmes”, I replied carefully as I speared the excellent bacon “I fear it is not within the orbit of my good fortune to embark upon this journey and partake of the delightful adventures it no doubt has in store for you. I hope that you pardon my absence. I wish you good luck.”
I played no further part in the adventure. Truth be told, I was unable to even follow up. As I recall, a commitment with the Greenpeace movement had taken up much of my time around that period.
And that is why you, dear reader, will not read about the Emerald murders.