He looked from the phone to the unconscious figure of the Salesman. "What did you do to him?" he asked. "He got the wrong number," Alex said.

Show Holmes a drop of water and he would deduce the existence of the Atlantic. Show it to me and I would look for a tap. That was the difference between us.

He had tattooed all of the names of the men he had killed on his body...unfortunately he had run out of room.

If you think it's hard getting in, you should try getting out.

You cannot defeat your enemies until you know who they are.

I hear it still. As I lay down my pen and take to my bed, I am aware of the bow being drawn across the bridge and the music rises into the night sky. It is far away and barely audible - but there it is! A pizzicato. Then a tremelo. The style is unmistakable. It is Sherlock Holmes who is playing. It must be. I hope with all my heart that he is playing for me . . .

Strange though it is,Sarov still cares about you. He told me to leave you alone. But I think, this time, I must disobey the general. You are mine! And I intend to make you suffer..." "Just talking to you makes me suffer," Alex said.