The storm outside rages and churns.

The fire within crackles and burns.

Still with each snap and crash,

The answer eludes like the spreading rash.

My anger grows and writhes,

Each test taken by the Reaper's scythe.

This latest failure the greatest of blunders,

My mind crushed by the doubt it's under.

Soon I will find the answer to this riddle,

Then my doubts will seem such a…

It had been over a week since the game of chess between Wilhelm and the Holmes brothers. He had been working diligently in his laboratory trying his own changes to the formulas. He was certain there was some factor he was missing. Some minor adjustment that was escaping his notice.

Nearly nine in the evening he was relaxing in his sitting room, with a cigar already lit, when Sherlocke came into the room. The glint in his eye was all Wil needed to know that his friend had found…