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my brother Mycroft, only leaving my flat when I needed bodily nourishment.

“About three-quarters-of-an-hour into my muscular training, there was a rapping on my door. I thought it would be Lestrade bringing word of the success of the case and thanking me for solving it. When I opened the door, I was surprised to discover – not Lestrade – but a small Oriental man cloaked in a dark grey inverness cape and deerstalker. The man, though short in stature, stood with his hands at his hips and stared up at me with the deepest expressive jade eyes I had ever seen. He had a most commanding presence. His features were chiseled with long lines of age, and the curls of white hair which flowed from under his hat were puffy, as if he wore a cumulus cloud upon his head. The right half of his face was normal, while the left half slumped down slightly, clearly the victim of a stroke of God’s hand 1. The man must have been over sixty years of age, yet there was a youthfulness in his manner as he pushed past me and confidently strode into my room.

“I confess, Watson, that there was not much I could read from the man, beyond what I have told you. He kept himself covered by his inverness and wore his collar up to conceal even more of his identity. I could see that he was financially sound, his clothing being of the latest style, yet there was no mud on his shoes, and no stains about his collar to help me identify more about this Oriental character.

“‘Good day, sir,’ I began. ‘My name is Sherlock Holmes, and I believe you have come to see me about a problem.’

“The elderly man turned to me swiftly in one quick motion and was again standing directly before me, looking up at me squarely in the eyes. He then removed his hands from beneath his cape, and I saw that he was holding a bound pad of paper and a sharpened wooden pencil. He flipped the pad open, scrawled a note, and handed it to me.

“‘It is an honor to meet you, Mr. Holmes,’ I read.  ‘I am Mr. Chen. Like you, I am a consultant for Scotland Yard. I come to you on behalf of Inspector Lestrade. As I am sure you already know, you were correct about the Lady Marianne’s whereabouts. What you do not know is that you have grievously offended the Yard, so much so that I fear they will no longer require your services.’

“After reading Mr. Chen’s note, Watson, I let out a long yawn to show my lack of interest in Mr. Chen’s concern. ‘My dear, sir,’ I explained to the man. ‘I did nothing but speak the truth to Inspector Lestrade. If the man’s pride is hurt, perhaps that is for the better. His investigative skills, like that of most of the Yard, are tolerable at best. I can assure you that someone from the Yard will come see me soon enough. I shall assist them, pocket my fee, and we shall continue on in this fashion until I so choose to end our professional relationship.’

“‘I am disappointed that one so all-knowing as yourself lacks the basic understanding of human nature,’ Chen wrote.

“‘Whatever do you mean?’ I chuckled. ‘I can assure you that Inspector Lestrade may be claiming sore feelings now, but just wait until some little girl loses her dolly, and then he’ll be at my doorstep needing my advice.’

“Chen wrote on his pad, shaking his head. He then handed me a most unexpected message. ‘Holmes needs the Yard as much as the Yard needs Holmes.’

“I confess that I burst out laughing at such a ridiculous remark. Chen took his pad back from me and wrote a further explanation.

“‘Your insults have gone beyond the knowledge of the inspector,’ wrote Chen. ‘All of the Yard wants nothing to do with you. Even if they do come back to you, they will do so unwillingly. They will always doubt you, not wanting to take their largest critic seriously. You will lose income from the force. You will lose access to the force. Even if you were able to make a respectable income without them, having no friends in the Yard will greatly hinder many of your investigations.’

“‘I still say that when they get themselves a case which presents them with a tangled knot that they will be back at my door asking . . . no . . . begging for my assistance.’

“‘And I say,’ continued Chen, ‘that the police would rather leave the knot tied than seek you out. You must apologize Mr. Holmes. You will eventually find yourself in trouble, trouble that will leave you needing assistance from the likes of Lestrade, and he will turn his back on you.’

“You can understand that my opinion of the Yard was so low that I sneered at Mr. Chen’s concern and boasted that I would never need the Force. ‘No one who works for the Yard can defeat me on a mental or physical level. I cannot see how I would ever need assistance from that lot. But I assure you that they will indeed come to me. They may take a few days to come around, maybe even a week. Rest assured, they know when a superior intellect is required.’

“Chen’s eyes glared into mine. I felt as though those emerald orbs were looking beyond my body, beyond my mind, and into my very soul. We stared at each other for perhaps a full minute before the man began scratching out another message to me. It took him awhile to compose his writing, and when he handed his communication over to me, I was startled by his statement.

“‘Mr. Holmes,’ it read, ‘your arrogance shall

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