Miss Sallows was not like other detectives. She hated Sherlock Holmes with a vengeance and had no other friends of her profession. As for her appearance, the curling blond locks which rested on her shoulders gave her an innocent pretence, along with her soft blue eyes. Folk would say she was beautiful, but I only ever saw the dark, twisted side of her that held countless secrets. Worst of all was her greed – at times she acted like a wild lion, deprived of food and pouncing upon her victims. Whenever a brave soul spoke her name, an eerie silence would fall over the village, like a blanket of ice encasing it, and the wind would whistle perilously. Miss Sallows was a force to be reckoned with.