Under your nose

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"Thank you miss ... let Lisa know this," Sam commented with mockery as they entered the carriage. "Is everything ok, Auntie? It seems your headaches have returned."

"I don't know Sam," Joan tried to disguise. "It seems so."

"You should see a doctor ... or a healer. Do you keep the diary of those dreams and these pains?" Dean said, still sulking with his brother.

"Don't worry about me," Smith smiled. "We'll help Doyle first, but I promise I'll take care of myself."

The trip to the city center was quiet and getting there they parted ways.

At the library...

Sherlock and Joan went straight to a shelf that contained an encyclopedia. There were 14 books marked D. Sherlock sighed.

"My friend," Joan smiled. "If we start, we'll finish soon."

"I still don't know why and I really hate not knowing, but it smells like Christmas that John cheated on pretending to have the memories of a king, who was actually a well-known knight. His name was Arthur ... he got the name of a boy who was following me" Sherlock said after they didn't find "sir" in the Doyle family.

"Bingo," she said in a startled voice, "what was the boy's last name?"

"He never said it, but he signed A.D. but he must be at least nine years old today," Sherlock said.

"Let's look in the address book then where Doyle lives," she said excitedly.

"Good idea ... to an ufologist," William said, opening the book where they had found the Doyle, "closer than we thought 221C Baker St.!

"You must be kidding!" Joan was stunned.

"He's right here!" Sherlock showed her "all we have to do it's to go home."

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