from Dr J Watson to Sherlock Holmes Esq:
I’ve just had a rather disturbing communication from our old pal Norville (Shaggy) Rogers, who has got himself embroiled in another one of those Wicker Mannie situations. Apparently, he and that idiot hound of his are holed up in what he refers to as ‘The Old Woodward Place’ in the village of Snot-on-the-moor, near Scarborough, Yorkshire.
Shaggy claims that a group of ‘wickery fanatics’ are at this very moment constructing a gigantic effigy on the beach that bears a remarkable resemblance to your good self. Now, I know what you’re thinking, Holmes, and before you dismiss this as mere pagan nonsense, I urge you to recall the tormented death of poor old Eddy Woodward, for it is that very individual’s former residence that Mr Rogers is currently occupying. And as you are so fond of saying, Holmes, ‘there’s no such thing as a coincidence, Watson, and pass the biscuits.’
Call me a superstitious fool, but I think it would be only sensible that we investigate these curious events at our earliest convenience.
I shall make the necessary arrangements and call for you this evening. I trust you will be able to drag yourself away from whaever indulgent diversion you are engaged in. (It might also be prudent to pack a bag of Mrs Hudson’s crunchy pies to sustain us on the trip).