Any fan of detective fiction knows that there is no substitute in all of literature for a few hours of reading pleasure at 221 B Baker Street. The tobacco in the persian slipper, the piles of monographs and newspaper clippings covering the floor and table, the unanswered correspondence affixed to the mantle with a dagger. What will the next visitor or urgent message bring? Perhaps a request from a mysterious stranger to help prevent "A Scandal in...