You take another look at the newspaper clipping in your hand before approaching the door of number 221 1/2 Baker Street. You can hear the sound of a violin being played masterfully over the sound of rain and you pause to listen before finally knocking. A flustered looking mouse opens it and sighs. “You’re here for Basil I suppose?” she says wearily. You nod and she beckons you inside. “ You realize that the violin was being played by a tall, brown, mouse who was lounging in a great armchair.