Hunter Williams // Sherlock Holmes

Returning unwanted birthday presents is always a bit difficult. I've never had to figure out how to return one without getting arrested before though. I know, it's the thought that counts, right?

Holmes is no help at all, damn the man. I had to deduce from the receipts in my pockets, the bandage on my arm, and the disreputable state of my clothes just what he's been doing all week and why the hell I woke up in Sussex with no memory of having gone there. Of course, I can't head home just yet either. I'm not about to leave a case half finished, even if I wasn't around for the start of it.

( Juliet )

Great news, there's a dead jeweler in Soho. Apparent suicide, with the emphasis on apparent. And here I was thinking this weekend was going to be a total waste.

I really do need to get out more. London ain't quite like we remembered it, but a fascinating place to spend a couple days none the less.

( Juliet )

I read through the papers this morning and what do I see but a scandal in suburbia. Signs of a large-scale struggle, no bodies, house wiped clean, outside a mess complete with blood and bullet holes. No police reports from anyone involved, no missing persons reported, no hospital admissions. Y'all certainly ain't boring, I'll give you that. I may actually have to follow this one.

( When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. )