Ok, as I said before, I did not write this story, all credit goes to 1 2 4 write, as you probably all know computers can be very annoying, and for this reason she was not able to put it up herself. Hope you all enjoy!

Now tell me your story and pray, be as precise as possible, Miss?" Basil of Baker Street said soothingly, trying to calm the lady's nerves.

"Miss Dreyford," The lady supplied. "Well, I enjoy hypnotism as a hobby, and lately I've been spending time at the Mezmir Club. Sometimes I do a little hypnotizing there and sometimes I just watch the show. Several nights ago I allowed myself to go onstage and be hypnotized and when I came out of it I realized my ring was gone."

"Most interesting. And nobody who watched the show saw you take the ring off?" Basil asked.

"No. And I'm certain it didn't fall off on it's own. It's a treasured family heirloom and it would mean so much to me if you could get it back."

Basil paused, taking several puffs on his pipe.

"Dr. Dawson and I will surely do our best."

"Oh Thank you Mr. Basil."

Miss Dreyford gave him the address of the Mezmir Club, and after Basil had shown her out he had a very serious look on his face.

"This whole business was never about the ring. The young lady was obviously lying," Basil stated thoughtfully.

"Not that I believe in hypnotism, but how on Earth can you be so sure?"

"Elementary my dear Dawson. Miss Dreyford is obviously well off. She was fashionably dressed. And yet she wore no jewelry, even though a woman of her standing would own more than enough trinkets to compensate for the ring. Now, the question is, why would a woman so concerned with fashion choose not to wear jewelry? The answer is she wouldn't. She must have taken off the ring before she came here so I would believe her story. I would be willing to wager the ring was safely in her pocket and is most likely back on her finger as we speak."

"But why would she make up such a story?"

"I don't know yet, Dawson. But I intend to find out."

Just then there was another knock at the door. When Basil opened it a mouse dressed in a policemen's uniform came in.

"Ah, Inspector Vole. Good to see you again. I trust there is considerably less crime in London now that Ratigan is gone?"

Vole looked uneasy, crushing his hat in his paws.

"I wish I could say so, but there were three murders last night. And the right forefinger has been severed from each victim."

Dawson gasped. "How dreadful."

"Indeed," Vole said. "The body of the latest victim is at the morgue now.

"Our earlier client's mystery will have to wait. Come on Dawson."

Basil had seen many crimes, and Dawson had seen many terrible things in Afghanistan, but nothing could have prepared them for the site of that poor girl laying there.

As if reading their minds, Vole said sadly. "She's about the age of my niece. Normally I can face the most gruesome crimes, but it's aweful when a poor child like this who could never have defended herself is killed."

Basil nodded. "Whoever has done this shall stand trial, I promise. I promise. Now, what do the murders have in common?"

"All young women. None of them were robbed. They all come from different families, so they weren't killed in vengeance," Vole said. "I could do with a drink. Would you and Dr. Dawson be so good as to come with me to Pembrook House? We could discuss the case further there."

About half an hour later the three mice were seated at a table, but Basil suddenly seemed completely disinterested in the finger murders as he looked across the room. There was Miss Dreyford talking with an aristocratic looking gentlemen by the name of Sir George Fennick.

"I say Basil, isn't that…"

"Shhhhhhhh," Basil hushed Dawson. "Don't say anything about that now. As you were saying Inspector?"

"These murders look like the work of a maniac to me."

"There may be method in his madness," Basil said.

"Another Jack the Ripper," Dawson said.

Basil shook his head. "The victims in the Ripper killings were all from one walk of life and the same part of London. These victims are from different walks of life and various parts of the city. I have a feeling they're only a small part of something far more sinister."

"But why were the fingers cut off?"

Basil sat quietly a moment, as if trying to deduce the answer and surprise them with his logic like he always had, but even his orderly brain couldn't come to a conclusion about that question.

"If we can answer that we'll have solved the mystery," Basil said as he watched Miss Dreyford and Sir George leave.

To be continued...

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