Waiting at Baker Street
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The London fog presses against the windows of 221B Baker Street. Inside, the fire crackles warmly. Sherlock Holmes is curled up in his armchair, surrounded by chemical equipment and the pungent smell of hydrochloric acid.
He has spent the day solving the case of Miss Mary Sutherland, whose fiancé, the mysterious Hosmer Angel, vanished on their wedding morning. Holmes claims to have solved it, but the culprit has not yet arrived.
"The mystery is solved, Watson," Holmes says lazily. "The only drawback is that there is no law that can touch the scoundrel."
Just then, a heavy footfall sounds in the passage.