“Blast that infernal man,” I threw my hat in the chair as I stormed past, “time and time again he is there, standing in my way.”
Grabbing the bottle of brandy, I poured a measure and slumped in the chair at my desk. “The smug look on his face when he solves the crime.”
Looking at the papers spread there, I sigh and collect the bunch in a pile.
“Months of research and planning. Gone! All because of that damn detective!”
Picking up the useless plans, I drop them in the bin.
Sipping my drink, I ponder which of the other jobs I was planning was ready to move forward. As I think, I take my handkerchief and soak the corner in the brandy.
Taking the lighter off the desk I put the soaked handkerchief in the flame.
Watching as the flame spread, I dropped it into the basket with the papers. As they burned I reached out and grabbed one of the stacks at the back of my desk.
Yes, this is the one.
I stand and walk over to the window, pick up the violin and lose myself in the music.
Notes flow around me.
Center me, ground me.
I stop, “Yes Watson?”
“I’ve tried to get your attention for minutes. Did you get it? Do you know what Moriarty has planned?”
“I do indeed,” I grinned in satisfaction,”It’s elementary, my dear Watson.”