”“What about Ron?” I asked. I had been paying homage to Ron’s cock for three months. Nadya could think and talk of nothing but Ron for the ent...re time. I even had some of his clothes at our dry cleaners.“I phoned him before you and told him to fuck off. He had been replaced by a better man.”I was shocked at how cold and dismissive she could be to a man who had been the object of her every thought: her true love.“Who is this new man?” I asked in wonder.“He just fell from the heavens. He knocked. . .Marie Jeanne?" Then a light went on. "Andthat is the woman your journal told me to seek out if I take upthis harebrained quest of yours." Madame Jeanne Marie," Sherla corrected quietly, "but her name isJennifer, or Jenny Deavers."It all fits. So, why are you here trying to convince me thatyou are your father, girl?" Because I am. . .or rather was, Mr. Sherlock Holmes and for allthe reasons I mentioned in that journal, I need you to carry onthis fight." I am still unconvinced that you are. More

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