November 10, 2017

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Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 8

Sherlock Herms Master Detective – Part 8

When Mosey had that fight with Fergus and zoomed without me back to the future, he’d broken our connection, inadvertently erasing my presence in 2017. Like I’d never existed! But me and my mom have a soulmate connection and she’d found me. She’d appeared to me looking like a red laser light, and said Jack and Opie were busy working to reconnect me to Mosey. But until they did… I would remain in 1894.

In order to distract me from totally fweaking out, I’d asked Fergus to teach me how to solve cases like Doyle wrote for Sherlock Holmes. Fergus was a Bedlington Whippet cross. He’s also the real brains behind the Sherlock Holmes detective mysteries. (I know, I’m as shocked as you that my hero is a legend of fiction and not a living breathing detective).

I didn’t know if I had the attention span, much less the desire to learn about the detective biz, but I was despurrrate to keep my mind busy on something other than the fact that I might never see my Mom or Dori ever again.

“A detective of Sherlock Holmes’ caliber continuously analyzes the details and looks for clues to possible solutions,” Fergus told me. “When Holmes goes about the business of searching for clues, he treats them like a puzzle with a missing piece, going to great lengths to find that missing piece so he can then move on to the next level of success.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“Not at all. I can break it down into simple steps for you.”

We moved to Doyle’s office with the door closed so Mrs. Gray wouldn’t disturb us while Fergus recited the “simple” steps Doyle used to make Sherlock Holmes a Master Detective.

“Pay attention to the details, especially what might first appear to be insignificant,” Fergus was saying. “When you begin a case, start with the basics of what you already know to be certain, without question or exaggeration. Be alert when you’re talking to someone, yet behave in a passive manner so as not to influence the subject into elaboration.”

I know this was important stuff he was telling me, but his flat, Ben Stein-like monotone made it hard for me to keep my eyes open. Clearly he found it as boring to say as it was for me to hear. Read More

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