About the book: 2012 / Gray spring jacket on a thin figure. A gray chauffeur's cap with “canned food” above the visor and a muslin scarf tied in a bow under the chin. High eyebrows, piercing eyes, straight nose. For a second there was a smell of damp night darkness and gasoline smoke. “My name is Irene Adler.” D.E. Summers shook his head, but this only half helped: the main part of the mirage remained sitting on the chair. Pork cutlets were sizzling in the frying pan. The housekeeper covered the frying pan with a lid, took her glasses out of her apron pocket and put them on her nose. “But, Doctor Banks, you didn’t listen to me!” - she said indignantly. - They told me everything themselves! They are businessmen. They both work for Mr. Ford! - And before that? - asked the unpleasant person. “Before they started working for Mr. Ford, do you know what they did?” “You’d think you knew!” “No,” her interlocutor answered honestly. “But when we met these... these gentlemen, they were dressed like tramps, and there was an armed chase after them.”.