I could tell that Holmes was preoccupied. His toast remained unbuttered and the marmalade spoon was still clean.

"I can tell you Watson, this is a most confounded situation," he said.

I took advantage of the undisturbed toast rack, grabbed a triangle, sliced the butter and smothered the toast with it and marmalade. Breakfast was important, regardless of the severity of the circumstances.

"I am in desperate need of a pair of socks," Holmes declared.

"Surely Holmes, you should have no trouble finding such an item," I intoned.

"That's where you are wrong Dr Watson. Not since A Study in Scarlet have I been so challenged."

More toast would have to wait.

"Time to come clean Holmes and inform as to what exactly is the predicament we face."

"It burdens me to discombobulate you in such a manner, but I fear I have no alternative," Holmes informed me as he got up from the table to stretch his legs in front of the fire.

"It is the case of the missing Yashow."

Beijing's esteemed clothing market? I was at a loss.

"The case of the missing Yashow?"

"Indeed, it is most perplexing."

"What can we fathom so far?"

"The facts are plain Dr Watson, as plain as the unbuttered toast, but making sense of them is what has me enduring sleepless nights and wondering if civilization as we know it is threatened."

"Steady on Holmes, surely... "

But he cut me off. "You think I exaggerate! If a man cannot depend on getting socks then what use is there to such trappings as breakfast with Mrs Hudson's homemade marmalade?"

He said those words just as I was about to again pander my digestive system with the richly textured marmalade. I could not finish the task. Holmes was right. Civilization was in a particularly precarious state.

"This is what we can deduce. A few weeks ago I negotiated, at some length, a transaction involving a pair of cotton socks from an Anhui province lady, at least that is what she informed me. They were of a most comfortable fit so I decided to return and purchase another pair. That's when I noticed it wasn't there."

So, where is it, I inquired then immediately regretted doing so.

"Elementary, Watson," as I suspected, delivered with a rapier-like thrust that shredded my intellect.

At that very moment Mrs Hudson walked in. "You've hardly touched the toast and the tea is getting cold, just as well I brought a new pot."

I felt a compelling need to inquire of the good lady.

"Do you Yashow?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way, Dr Watson. Socks and sundries, a most popular undertaking. Why, it was just the other day ...", and then her pallor turned a most remarkable hue of gray.

"Surely not," she lamented. "Oh no, Yashow has gone, that is just too terrible, whatever will become of us! Holmes you must get it back," she demanded, displaying a fortitude I had not associated with her previously accommodating demeanor.

"Time to hail a Hansom cab, Watson, the game is afoot!"

A most apt phrase, I thought to myself, to describe a case that emerged from the need of a pair of socks.

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