Chapter 14: Irene Adler at Victoria Station

The note arrived on a Friday, slipped beneath the Montague Street door sometime between Watson's departure at half past eight in the evening and his return at a quarter to eleven. It was on the same paper as the Geneva letter — Continental stock, that faint blue-grey of high-grade rag — and had been folded once, precisely, with no envelope.

Two lines, in the same controlled hand.

*Victoria Station. Platform Seven. Saturday, 4:14 p.m.*