The grammar may seem wonky here, but I did that on purpose. That's how this criminal talks.
I imagine this as either Harold Simons or Jenkins.
It might be any random criminal! Insert evildoer at will! XD
Murdering that man had been simple! I would have escaped without being discovered if it weren't for the fact that one of my men left a footprint behind. I had told them to wipe away their prints, but they didn't all listen.
I'd have to deal with that later. Right now, I had to get out of the building without getting arrested. 'Twould be easy, though. My men had already reported that the only people there were two toffs, one with a limp, the other looking positively at ease (ha!), a boyish man who looked incredibly easy to get past (I heard that he was a Yarder, but that seemed impossible), and a small, ferret-faced man arguing with a taller, towheaded man. Those I could believe were Yarders.
It was too good to be true. All those completely distracted toffs "on the lookout"! They wouldn't stand a chance. We just had to sneak up on them and knock 'em out, and that would be easy. They were already distracted!
I was wrong. I slowly crept up behind the man with the bad leg (I assumed that he was the easiest target) and was about to cuff him over the head when he suddenly went all rigid like, and spun around. Before I could even blink I had a gun pointed at me! Luckily, before the ferret-faced man could get the handcuffs on me, one of my men fired at him. The Yarder dove out of the way, and in the confusion I managed to slip away and tried to fire my gun at the boyish Yarder. Now he seemed to be the easiest target. But before I could do that, the tall man who had been all relaxed like had my arms pinned behind my back and a pair of darbies clapped on.
He wasn't anymore relaxed.
I looked around to see what had happened to my other men. The ferret-faced and towheaded pair had two in their grasp, and they were quibbling again. I heard snippets of their conversation, which made no sense.
"Lestrade, be quiet!"
"I started a riot? What?"
The man with the bad leg and the revolver had another man handcuffed, who he was giving a real steely glare. Then, he let go of the man, looking satisfied, and began checking over the others for injuries.
"Lestrade, I think that gunshot went off too near your ears..."
"A lot of people have burst into tears? What the devil are you talking about, Doctor?"
The doctor repeated himself, a little louder. "You've been temporarily deafened from the gunshot!"
"Eh?"
Finally, the towheaded Yarder bellowed rudely, "LESTRADE! LISTEN! YOU'VE BEEN DEAFENED!"
The black haired man who'd got me set me down and sat down on one of the crates in the room, looking bored again. Was that even possible?
The boy-like Yarder snapped out of the cold expression he was giving another one of my men, and resumed bouncing around the room, peppering the bored man with questions.
I still didn't understand how they had caught me.
Ooh. . . Best not to underestimate those guys. Holmes, Watson, Lestrade, Gregson, and Hopkins can deceive you with their innocent looks.
My spellchecker is staying that "Yarder" is not a word.
OI. IT'S A WORD.