"Watson! There has been a murder!" Sherlock yelled. Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, was busy on his new case. An ex-army captain had gone missing, only to wash up in London just an hour earlier. Sherlock was happy to accept the case, because he was BORED, and he knew Watson would be especially helpful.

As for Watson, there was no answer.

"Watson! What int he bloody hell are you doing? Get up, we have a case!"

No sign of movement, Sherlock noted after a few painfully long minutes. Deciding something must be wrong with the doctor, Sherlock ran upstairs, broke open the door, and found no one was in the small bedroom.

"Why today‽" Sherlock screamed, pacing the room with frustration. Ms. Hudson heard the screams, and went upstairs.

"What is it, dear? Has John gone dashing off to Sarah's again?" Ms. Hudson inquired carefully.

Concluding his unpleasant theory, Sherlock yelped out, "Watson has been kidnapped!

"What makes you say that? You know how energized John has been lately."

"Oh, Ms. Hudson, how nice it must be to have a simplistic brain like yours. It is so terribly obvious he has been kidnapped! Look at the window. You see the scratch marks? Good. Now look at his desk. He never leaves anything out or open, right? Well, the drawer on the top left is open, where he keeps his handgun. The intruder came in through the window. Watson, hearing this, got up and went for the handgun, but was stopped, and gagged with chloroform."

"How do you know it was chloroform, Sherlock?" Ms. Hudson asked with confusion.

"Do you smell the alcohol fermenting in the air? Well, it certainly isn't nail polish removal. Moving on, John had an adverse affect from the drug, and did not black out quickly. Therefore, he stated to thrash around, knocking over his laptop, making the scratch marks on the window's frame, and-wait! He took his phone! That's my boy, John!"

Ms. Hudson, lacking knowledge about modern technology, was dubious as to why the phone was important in finding John.

"Ms. Hudson, I put a tracking GPS on his phone. I'm going to find him. Call Lestrade and tell him-"

"Wait, Sherlock...look..."

Over on the far left corner of the tiny room, a huge yellow M was slashed across the wall.