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A real Pea Souper hung over Mogden Moore as the duo galloped toward the Concrete Castle at Twickenham and the stench hung in the air like Kestral …. “You can almost taste it!” Exclaimed Dr Wartson trying hard not to choke as he spoke … “It’s like all the sewage in London gravitates here, Holmes!”

But Holmes, frustrated by the lack of progress, and in need of a fiddle, was in no mood for tittle tattle…”No Watson, that faeces coagulates at a place known as Craven Cottage… Much further upstream…”

With the Castle emerging from the brown haze the two mens’ attention was caught by a crow that flew alongside their carriage holding a piece of Andrex in its beak… “There seems to be writing on the piece of bog roll Holmes…” Exclaimed Watson… “Pass me my monocle….”

“THE SKY IS SNIFFING DONT BLAME STUART….” I think it says Holmes… What could that mean? Who is Stuart?” Pondered Watson… “Hold on, there’s a signature…. It’s signed by Hugo Farquar-Self!!!”

To be continued