It was a cold winters afternoon. Snow hadn’t yet fallen over London, but the forecast said it soon would. Sherlock hadn’t had a good case in weeks, and he was starting to grow restless.

That’s when he got the call from Greg.

“There was a body found. Burnt to a crisp. We managed to get some ID, and found out the woman had a husband and kids. We’re out in Beaconsvile, how soon can you come out? I’ll send the address over.”