Mouselet and Aemelia Vole pottered across the newspaper Holmes had left open on the table.

“Have you found anything interesting?” Poley the Moley asked them.

“Not yet,” Aemelia Vole replied. “There’s a request here for donations for men’s shirts for the bereaved wives’ society.”

“Why do bereaved wives need men’s shirts?”

Aemelia read on. “So they can cut them down and make them into shirts for their little boys.”

“What a good idea.”

“That’s probably where Mr Holmes’ old shirts have gone, you know the ones where the sleeves are all funny colours from where he’s stained them,” Mouselet said. Then she squeaked, “I’ve found the horoscopes!”

“Read them out. We can have a laugh.”

“Right. Capricorn, Mr Holmes, ‘Take no-one for granted. An old acquaintance may play you false.’ That makes sense. Um, Leo, Dr Watson, ‘You would be wise to stay home today.’ That doesn’t sound like a normal horoscope.”

“Try Inspector Lestrade,” Poley said. “I remember his birthday is the end of June.”

“Okay. Let’s see. Cancer. ‘You will make no progress with your current enquiries.’ And Inspector Hopkins. He’s Scorpio.”

Aemelia Vole giggled. “You didn’t have to think about that one!”

“I may have looked it up,” Mouselet admitted. “Anyway, oh no, it says, ‘Take great care!’”

“There’s something strange going on,” Poley said. “What are we going to do?”

They heard the front door bang and footsteps coming up the stairs. Quickly, Mouselet grabbed a pencil stub and put large crosses by the horoscopes, before the three little creatures hurriedly hid.

Dr Watson was the first to enter their rooms. He glanced curiously at the newspaper and said, “Holmes, unless you have taken to reading your stars, I think Mrs Hudson may be dropping hints.” He paused and looked a bit closer. “Although it does look slightly strange.”

Sherlock Holmes picked up the newspaper and gave a bark of laughter. “It would seem our adversary is playing games with us. And if he’s doing so then it means we are getting a little too close to him. I think we should play him at his own game. When is Viscount Whitehaven’s birthday?”

Inspector Hopkins took down the slightly dusty ‘Who’s Who’. “Let me see, it’s the middle of March.”

“Perfect,” Holmes said. “Lestrade, I’m sure you can persuade the editor of this newspaper to change the horoscope for,” he ran his finger over the list, “Pisces.”

“What do you want it to say?” Inspector Lestrade asked.

“Where do we want to meet him? How about a little face to face confrontation in the Royal Oak at midday tomorrow?”

“Doesn’t sound much like a horoscope to me. And if we put that in we’ll have half the cleaners in London in there with us.”

“Only a twelfth,” Hopkins said. The others glared at him. Mouselet stifled a giggle.

“I’ll think about it and send you a telegram,” Holmes said.

Lestrade nodded and shortly afterwards both inspectors departed.

Once they had gone, Holmes said, “Thank you, whoever found that.”

“We thought you would like to know,” Aemelia said, as the three little creatures emerged.

“Oh yes, it’s very helpful. And now, if you are able to assist a little more, we need to construct a suitable horoscope. We can assume Whitehaven will be on the lookout for our reply.”

“Didn’t you tell the Ferret that the sun’s at its highest at midday?” Mouselet asked. “If so, you could say it’s high time.”

“Ooh, I’ve got it,” Poley said. “How about ‘Don’t just sit around waiting; it’s high time you planted those acorns for a kingly reward’. Or is that too difficult to solve?”

“That’s perfect,” Watson said. “Suitably vague encouragement for most readers, but Whitehaven, if he’s as cunning as Holmes’ thinks, should easily solve it.”

“I’ll send a telegram to Lestrade immediately,” Holmes added.