“Stop, Bones. I know who I am,” I said, irritable now. “But who are they? And what are they doing in my house?”

“Why, they’re the Baker Street Regulars, aren’t they?” he said, as though the answer must be obvious. How thoroughly annoying. Not to mention, that the street he’d named happened to be the very same one in my address, and yet I’d never heard of these puppies before now.

“The Baker Street who?” I demanded.

“Well, they used to be known as the Cambridge Street Regulars,” he said, naming the street upon which resided Our Mutual Friend, the one who had essentially started this whole mess in the first place. “But,” Bones continued, “it doesn’t make much sense, does it, for me to keep referring to them like that when I live here now.”

“You do not now—”

“I sometimes use the Baker Street Regulars to help out with my cases. They’re all strays, every last one. It’s good for them to have something useful to do. Keeps them off the streets. Of course, technically, being strays, they’re always on the streets. Well, except for right now.”

“I’m sure they must be quite helpful,” I said, already feeling a headache building.

“Oh, we are, sir!” one of the young pups piped up. But then he looked embarrassed as he corrected, “I mean, ma’am.”

“This cheeky young pup,” said Bones proudly, “is Waggins. You might say he’s the leader of the pack.”

“Pleased to meet you, I’m sure,” I said dryly.

I noticed that while Bones had introduced me to his young associates, he hadn’t bothered to introduce them to the humans. It was nice to think I was getting special treatment. But I couldn’t let such rudeness stand.

“Don’t you think,” I said to Bones, “that it would only be polite for you to introduce your little friends to Inspector Strange and Inspector, er, too?”

“No need,” Inspector Strange said. “We’ve all met before, many times.”

I went straight from feeling special to feeling like an outsider in my own home. Well, at the very least, I could still be a good host. Plus, my stomach was growling.

“In that case,” I said, “since we’re all friends here now, or something approximating it, perhaps we should share a meal together. Mr. Javier jetted out for Lebanese and while I haven’t had the chance to taste any of it yet, I can assure you it all looks most delicious—”

“’Fraid there’s no time for that, ma’am,” Waggins said.

“There’s not?” I raised the whiskers above my eyes at him. “Not even some hummus?”

“No, ma’am.” He turned to Bones. “I summoned that cab you wanted and it’s been waiting right outside.”

“Cab?” I demanded. “When did you call for a cab?”