"That does it!"

I threw down my pen in disgust after hearing the fourth sigh coming from my companion in less than a minute. "You are becoming quite intolerable! Either take a case from Lestrade or go see if Mycroft can scrounge one up for you! I am sick of you moping around with nothing to do for weeks on end!"

"By all means, if they have one of interest," came the languid reply, from the sofa. A pale hand gestured limply to the mantelpiece, where we kept unanswered correspondence. "But it is unlikely. Criminals these days have no novelties whatsoever. The murderers follow patterns so obvious that even Scotland Yard can see them, the burglaries are clumsy and systematic, and even the kidnappings are straightforward—all of the victims are dead by now anyway, so there's really no point."

I pried the jackknife from the recent bundle of letters. "Here's one about a missing cat and a boxer."

"Dull. It was the housekeeper's son."

"A murder. The…dreadful handwriting…Abernetty family. Something about parsley…and butter?"

"She's innocent. Check the pantry. "

"Missing person. Mrs. Etherege. She says she's written you before, but the police have dismissed it as a hopeless case."

"Her husband went missing. He's being kept at the theatre. Do try to only read the interesting ones, won't you?"

I had just about given up when Mrs. Hudson knocked on the door. "Inspector Gregson is at the door, Mr. Holmes."

"Excellent!" He bounded off the sofa with the most energy I had seen from him for days, taking the stairs three at a time in his haste.

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Hudson muttered to me behind her hand. "He really does need a case, doesn't he?"

Without turning my head from the animated conversation between Holmes and the Inspector down the hall, I nodded grimly. "It's time for another one, I think."

"It's been twenty-three days. People aren't watching as closely. How about tomorrow night?"

"I don't think I can stand him like this for another day. Better make it tonight. I'll try to get him to play his violin so he doesn't hear you leave. I'll stop by later to help clean up."

Mrs. Hudson gave a tiny, almost imperceptible nod as Holmes trudged back up the stairs. Clearly, whatever case Gregson had for him was too boring to occupy him for long.

As twilight fell over London, I relaxed. Holmes was scraping away at his violin, oblivious to the world, and Mrs. Hudson was leaving just now to run our little "errand." With a little luck, by tomorrow Holmes the bored addict would be gone, and we would be graced by Holmes the consulting detective once more.

The next morning, the papers were full of the news. "Mary Ann Nichols found dead!" "Local prostitute brutally murdered!" "Jack the Ripper has struck again!"

Mary (the name was too close to that of my late wife, and I shuddered when I heard it) had been found early that morning with her throat cut and body brutally mutilated. Her wounds, according to the papers "were of almost medical precision. Examination suggests a surgical knife, wielded by a left-handed expert."

Holmes was woken early by Scotland Yard pounding on the door, with a case finally to his liking, and as we headed off to the crime scene, I glanced back toward 221B to see Mrs. Hudson waving us off with a hand that was still red from all of the scrubbing.

A/N: Jack the Ripper haunted London from 1888 to possibly 1891. Definitive victims include: Martha Turner (or Tabram), murdered on August 7, 1888; Mary Ann "Polly" Nichols, murdered August 31, 1888; Annie Chapman, murdered Spetember 8, 1888; Elizabeth Stride, murdered September 40, 1888; Catherine Eddowes, found 45 minutes after Elizabeth Stride, and a fifteen minute walk from Stride's body; and Mary Jane Kelly, murdered November 9, 1888. Other possible victims include Emma Elizabeth Smith, murdered August 3, 1888; Elizabeth Jackson, murdered in June 1889; Alice Mackenzie, murdered July 17, 1889; and Frances Coles, murdered February 13, 1891. All of the possible victims were Suspects range from doctors to Polish Jews to Prince Albert Victor, the Duke of Clarence and eldest son of the Prince of Wales. Jack the Ripper was never caught.
What can I say? I find this interesting.