He does punch him in the pastiche The Seven Per Cent Solution and knocks him out 😎

All the Sherlock games seem to suffer from the dreadful need by the developers to either include combat or awful puzzles that require ludicrous movement. If they stuck to the good parts solving clues and making deductions they’d be much stronger.

That night I passed Damaris Place alone. Twelve lamps burned meekly—but the thirteenth flickered crimson, then died. I felt a chill, thinking of the season’s veil between worlds. Even Holmes, I think, would not have cared to explain it. 🎃

Holmes restored the lamp, turning the flame down until it burned steady and white. “No spirit here, Watson—only the eternal gullibility of mankind.” Yet as we left, I fancied I saw a face shimmer once more in the glass.

“A stage illusionist turned zealot,” Holmes explained as the constable dragged the man away. “He conjured terror to sell protection charms. Each ‘curse’ ensured a customer’s death before they could complain.”

As the lamp flared, a figure emerged,robes, mask, wire spool in hand. “Stop!” I cried, but Holmes was already upon him. The device clattered, battery, tubing, a timed gas valve.

That night Holmes bribed the lamplighter to feign illness, taking his rounds himself. I followed, revolver in pocket, while fog swirled thick as milk. “When the blue flame burns,” he said, “watch the shadows.”

The full Substack is here open.substack.com/pub/echoesfr...

Beneath the lamppost base lay a chalk sigil, Hecate’s wheel. “Superstition cloaking science,” Holmes muttered. “Our culprit courts both the credulous and the cowardly.”