My story begins shortly after lunch.  It hadn’t been a particularly interesting lunch, because the Doctor had gone to his club, and Mr Holmes was engrossed in consulting his Bradshaw’s, and making copious notes.  On those occasions Mrs Hudson provides a cold meal, because apparently there’s no point in heating food up just to let it go cold.  I am not sure what would happen if Mr Holmes was hoping for a proper lunch, but since he never has that is probably irrelevant.

Anyway, by the time the story begins, some of the food has been eaten, there are very boring crumbs on Mr Holmes’ plate, and the notes are strewn across the floor.  I heard someone banging very hard on the front door.  However, Mr Holmes ignored the noise.  A minute later Aggie came running upstairs and straight into the rooms without knocking.  Even Mr Holmes was surprised, for Aggie is new and very shy.

“Please, Mr Holmes,” Aggie gasped, “Mrs Hudson says you’re to come downstairs ‘Right Now!’” 

Mr Holmes hurried downstairs and shortly afterwards I could hear him coming back although it sounded as though he wasn’t on his own.  Indeed he wasn’t.  To my horror, he was assisting my gallant inspector into the room.  He had been attacked, and there was blood on his face.  I found myself trembling in fright.

There was another man, who I didn’t recognise, also helping my inspector.  Between him and Mr Holmes they got him onto the sofa. 

Mrs Hudson, who had followed them up the stairs, said, “I’ll go and get some hot water and towels.”

“Thank you,” Mr Holmes said.  Then he turned to Aggie, “Take a cab to Dr Watson’s club, tell the cabbie to wait, find Dr Watson and come back here as quickly as you can.”

“Yes, Mr Holmes.”

The other man explained he had found my poor dear inspector lying on the ground.  He had wanted to take him to hospital, but my inspector had insisted he be brought to us.  Which is what the man had done.  My Holmes asked him some other questions, but other than telling him where he had found the inspector he knew nothing about how he came to be there.

By the time the man left, my inspector had recovered a little.  He reached inside his coat pocket and gave Mr Holmes some papers.  Mr Holmes looked at them and grunted, but at that point Mrs Hudson returned with the hot water and towels.  My inspector gallantly tried to insist Mr Holmes leave him and do something with the papers, but Mr Holmes said it was more important to treat his injuries.  And quite right too.

Fortunately Dr Watson arrived soon after that.  He looked at my inspector and said, “It would be better if you were lying down properly, Hopkins.  Holmes, can we use your bed?”

“Of course.  Let me give you a hand.”

Between the two of them they more or less carried the poor man into Mr Holmes room and laid him on the bed.  Knowing the state of Mr Holmes’ room, I decided it would be wiser if I didn’t follow them inside, but watched through the doorway until Mr Holmes came back out and shut the door.

Mr Holmes then started to read through the papers my inspector had given him and began making notes.  After a while Mrs Hudson brought the tea tray up, and shortly after that the Doctor came out of Mr Holmes’ bedroom and poured himself a cup of tea.

“How is Hopkins?” Mr Holmes asked.

“I’ve given him something to help him sleep,” the Doctor replied.  “He should recover fully in a few days’ time.  Fortunately the head wound wasn’t as bad as it first looked.  It would be best if he be left to sleep in your bed for the moment; with your help we can move him onto the sofa later.”

“No need.  I doubt I shall be getting much sleep tonight, and if I do grab a few hours the sofa will suit me perfectly well.  I shall be going out shortly and have no idea when I shall be back.”

“Do you need me to accompany you?”

“Thank you, Watson, but I think you would be better employed for the moment keeping an eye on Hopkins.  If I find I do have need of you, I will send word.”

My inspector continued to sleep for the next few hours.  I peeped into the room whenever Dr Watson went in to check his patient.  I could see he had a bandage around his head, and his poor face was as pale as the bandage.  (The Ocelot says it is not clear whether I mean Inspector Hopkins or Dr Watson.  Obviously Dr Watson was not bandaged!)

Mrs Hudson brought supper up for the Doctor and asked whether ‘the poor man’ (she meant my inspector) would be wanting something.  The Doctor said he might have some soup when he woke and he would call down for it.  Shortly after the Doctor had finished eating his supper we heard the sound of movement from the bedroom.  (I should point out how considerate my inspector is – had it been Mr Holmes he would have woken whilst the Doctor was still eating and dragged him from his food.)

The Doctor went to see him and I heard him raise his voice.  At first I was worried things had taken a turn for the worse, but it turned out the Doctor was insisting the inspector stay in bed.  Then when the Doctor came out to call for the soup we heard the bed creak, and peaking round the door I saw my inspector put a foot on the floor. 

The Doctor saw him too, and called out loudly, “Hopkins, I told you to stay in bed!”

Then, when Mrs Hudson brought the soup up, she went into the bedroom and said firmly, “Mr Hopkins, this is a respectable establishment, and I do not wish to find you have ignored Dr Watson’s instructions and have collapsed on my floor.  I have quite enough to cope with given the number of items Mr Holmes leaves lying around, without having fallen inspectors cluttering up the place as well.”

I am not entirely sure I quite followed Mrs Hudson’s reasoning, and from the look of puzzlement on the Doctor’s face I don’t think he could either, but it did the trick, and my inspector promised to stay in bed until such time as he was properly released.

After a while Dr Watson went to bed.  I assumed this meant he was not worried about my inspector, and he knew he would not be moving without permission.  However, I wasn’t entirely sure and decided I would spend the night on a shelf in Mr Holmes’ room in case anything happened.  Aemelia very kindly said she would keep me company, so we settled in a used coffee cup for the night.

Mr Holmes returned at some point in the night.  We were poised to leave if he came into his room, but he didn’t even open the door.  We could hear him moving around, but then he stopped and all was quiet again.

The next thing we heard was Dr Watson coming downstairs, saying “Oh really, Holmes,” and opening the window.  Knowing the Doctor would certainly come into the bedroom Aemelia and I made our escape, she departing into the wainscoting, and I to my favourite spot by the mantelpiece. 

I had hoped to watch as the Doctor checked on my inspector, but he shut the bedroom door.  Probably something to do with the tobacco smoke which was still hanging around despite the open window.

Shortly afterwards there was a knock on the door and Aggie came in.  “Mrs Hudson would like to know if you were wanting breakfast yet,” she said.

“No!” Mr Holmes replied, rather abruptly.

Dr Watson came out of the bedroom and said, “Aggie, please tell Mrs Hudson I would most certainly like some breakfast, and if she could make Inspector Hopkins a soft-boiled egg and some toast that would be greatly appreciated.  Oh, and as Mr Holmes doesn’t want anything, she’d better do some extra toast as well.”

Everyone knew Mr Holmes might not eat a proper breakfast, but he would wander round the room eating slices of toast thickly spread with marmalade or jam.  I liked those breakfasts, because he would inevitably wave the toast as he was talking and bits would fall off.

Whilst Mrs Hudson cooked breakfast, the doctor helped my inspector to get up and he appeared wearing one of Mr Holmes’ dressing gowns.  He still had a bandage round his head, but he was no longer quite as pale as the bandage, which I took to be a good sign.

Everyone ate their breakfast, and I helped out as necessary.  Mr Holmes explained his plan and my inspector said he would get dressed and come with him. 

I was horrified, but Mr Holmes said, “Lestrade will arrive shortly and we should be able to manage between us.  Besides which, Hopkins, the intention is we blend in with those around us and your bandage will make you stand out.”

My inspector put his hand to his head and Dr Watson said, “And before you say anything, no, you are not removing the bandage.”

Fortunately, Inspector Lestrade came soon afterwards, and he and Mr Holmes then departed.  Dr Watson went out for a while later on, but Aggie and Mrs Hudson came up to clean and Mrs Hudson glared very fiercely at my inspector whenever he tried to move from his armchair, so in the end he stopped trying.

After a while, Dr Watson returned and asked Mrs Hudson if she could provide luncheon for four.  This was a good sign and it wasn’t long before Mr Holmes and Inspector Lestrade also returned.  It would appear they had captured the people they were after, two of whom had been charged with, amongst other things ‘assaulting a police officer’. 

Lunch was an excellent meal.  It included apple pie, which is my inspector’s favourite dessert.  And thus, in the course of twenty-four hours, my inspector has been injured, treated, the men who attacked him have been caught, and we have had a delicious pudding.