‘To the Royal Society of Needlework — and drive like the wind!’ Sherlock is speaking, Watson narrating. In Competition No. 2435 you were invited to continue from here.
‘Not …’ I gasped as we careered on to the Edgware Road.
‘Exactly, Watson, our old adversary. Did you ever wonder in what subject the Professor gained his academic distinction? Crochet …’.
I enjoyed this Moriarty moment in Derek Morgan’s entry. Mycroft Holmes, however, didn’t feature in any of your scenarios: perhaps it would have been too difficult to get him out of his armchair in the Diogenes Club and into a bumpy hansom. The prizewinners, printed below, get £25 each, and the bonus fiver goes to Basil Ransome-Davies for a gloriously iconoclastic performance.
Holmes’s words were uttered in a delirium, for he sat in his lodgings, not a hansom cab, and the institution he spoke of had no existence.
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