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John walked into the sitting room in 221B and stopped in horror. It looked as if there had been a snowstorm in the room, which, although having its centre in the middle of the room around the coffee table, had also had an effect over a considerable area. And not content with being the customary white of snow, included red, blue, purple and green.
John consciously took a deep breath and then said, “Sherlock, what have you been doing?”
“Molly’s been telling me how the most thoughtful presents are the ones that we create ourselves,” Sherlock replied. “So I thought I’d do something for Mrs Hudson to show her how much we appreciate what she does for us.”
“By creating a bigger mess than usual and expecting her to clean it up!”
“That wasn’t my intention. I was making a handmade card with some glitter, and it wasn’t quite as easy as I expected.”
“Let’s have a look at what you’ve achieved so far.”
Sherlock proudly picked up the card, and some more glitter slid off.
“Hmm,” John said. “I’m not sure she’ll appreciate a picture of a crime scene.”
“What do you mean? That’s not a crime scene, that’s a Christmas tree.”
“Ah, yes. The blob in the middle with the green glitter.”
“And the other colours are decorations.”
“And the large red section – I took that to be blood.”
“I tipped a bit too much red glitter out of the pot, so it’s an atmospheric shadow.”
John tried squinting at the card, first with one eye and then the other. Finally he shut both eyes and then opened them again in the hope that that made a difference. He shook his head. “No, whichever way I look at it, it doesn’t resemble a Christmas tree. Why don’t you give it to Molly instead? She’ll probably appreciate a festive crime scene card.”
“Excellent idea. I’ll send it from both of us.”
“You don’t have to.”
“No, that’s all right, I’ll do that. So what are we doing about Mrs Hudson’s card?”
“We?”
“Now you’re here, you can help me.”
“Very well. I can’t make it any worse.”
An hour later, having created further crime scenes which could be given to Greg and Mycroft, the glitter had finally run out.
“So what are you going to do about giving Mrs Hudson a card?” Sherlock asked.
“Have you still got Mycroft’s credit card?”
“Yes, but not for much longer I suspect.”
“In which case I can use it to order a Fortnum and Mason’s hamper for her and get them to include a card in it. Just make sure you tell your brother, so he doesn’t cancel the transaction.”
Sherlock took out his phone. “I’ll do it now.”
“And ask him to send over a specialist cleaning service, we’re going to need one.”