As John opened the door, a middle-aged man with thinning chestnut hair and sharp as a tack blue eyes stared back at him, a briefcase and a brolly on either side of the chair that he now occupied. He didn't bother standing in greeting as John came in.

"Professor Watson." He started in a posh London accent. "I understand that you have recently become aware of the presence of a new exhibit in the British Museum, and that you have acquired a certain... fondness for it's contents." His tone was brisk, almost bored, like it pained him to say what they both already knew was obvious.