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Sherlock Holmes knocked on Stanley Hopkins' front door, and on receiving no reply dug in his pocket for the spare door key. He could see a light on inside, but presumed Stanley had fallen asleep. Either that or Tilly was asleep on his lap, and, knowing it was Sherlock at the door, Stanley had decided not to disturb her.
He entered, to be greeted by the kitten, who miaowed loudly at him. Sherlock bent down and stroked her, saying, “So he’s fallen asleep and is ignoring you. He’s not fully recovered, so it’s not surprising.”
Then he heard a groan from the living room. He walked in, to see a pair of legs sticking out from underneath a low cabinet.
“Stanley, what are you doing?” he asked.
“Tilly had hidden her toy mouse and I was looking for it. I’ve just been playing with her.”
“How long have you been under there?”
“Not long.”
“That’s not what your cat told me.”
“Cat’s can’t talk. You tell me that often enough,” Stanley protested.
“Not with words, but her behaviour suggests you’ve been under there for at least fifteen minutes.”
“Um, well …”
Sherlock crawled under the front of the cabinet to see what the problem was. It was soon obvious that somehow Stanley had banged the bottom of the cabinet, which had broken, causing the contents to fall on top of him. And since his back wasn’t fully recovered from a previous injury he had been unable to free himself without making things worse.
Tilly, seeing the two of them under the cabinet, came to join them.
Sherlock tried to catch the kitten, but in doing so bashed the bottom of the cabinet again and felt more of the contents descend. Hurriedly he pushed himself over to protect Stanley.
Cautiously he felt in his pocket for his phone. He managed to reach it and dialled a number. “Lestrade, I need you to get to Hopkins’ flat immediately. Do you have the address?” Having received an affirmative answer he then sent a text to John telling him to come over as well.
Ten minutes later Sherlock heard the front door open and Greg call out. Tilly went to meet him and escort him into the living room.
“Don’t say anything,” Sherlock instructed. “Just empty the cabinet.”
As Greg piled the contents of the cabinet up on one side Tilly went to investigate. She patted a small box on the top of one of the piles, which slid towards her, causing her to jump backwards and knock over one of the other piles. Greg turned quickly to see what had happened and banged his head on the cabinet door. He swore and then made a grab for the cabinet as it began to sway dangerously.
Fortunately, at that point John arrived. Greg called out to him and he hurried into the living room. Together they lifted the cabinet off Sherlock and Stanley and carried it into the hallway.
Tilly, once more, came to investigate, but John caught her and shut her in the kitchen with a handful of cat treats.
He then went back into the living room to survey the damage. “I’m not sure whether you were playing Sardines or Hide and Seek,” he said, “but either way, I’ll apply some temporary bandages and sort you all out back at Baker Street.” He looked critically at Stanley, then added, “Is your right hand okay, you seem to be holding it rather awkwardly?”
Reluctantly, Stanley uncurled the fingers of his right hand, to reveal a small stuffed mouse. “It’s Tilly’s,” he said. “She’d hidden it and I was trying to reach it.”
“Oh, yes,” John said, “the best laid schemes …”
As Robbie Burns said: The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men Gang aft agley