Basil of Baker Street
Gone, but Not Forgotten
By Brinatello
Created 5/8/07

Disclaimer: This is my first attempt at writing with the characters of the Basil of Baker Street series as well as Disney's animated feature, The Great Mouse Detective. All characters portrayed in this story are owned by both author Eve Titus and Disney.

Chapter 1: The Missing Letter

Sunday, March 13, 1898
The weather report in the London Times predicted light showers and scattered clouds, and it should have said the same for a similar newspaper of the Mouse World, the London Mouse Daily. Once the clock chimed 7 a.m. on old Big Ben, a bolt of lightning shot through the gray skies, followed by a crack of tremendous thunder. A tall, thin mouse looked out his front window with hands behind his back, watching a rain drop pelt against the glass. A second and third came forth and before he knew it, their little flat beneath 221b Baker Street became a growing flood of water. The mouse groaned to the typical London rain they got almost every day and was hoping it would clear up real soon. If it weren't for sandbags placed along the borders of his home, he and his fellow flat occupants would be up to their waists in this glorious down pour. The tall mouse quickly opened his door to retrieve his newspaper before it got too soaked on the porch. As he predicted from reading the main page, events were scheduled around town for this holiday. It was one holiday he wasn't too keen on participating with, but he respected others who celebrated it. The sound of footsteps got his attention, heavy footsteps to be exact.

"Good morning, Dawson." He said without turning around. A second mouse appeared in the foyer room, more shorter and portly in size, carrying with him a light blue coat under one arm.

"And good morning to you--" Dawson paused to stare at the young detective dressed in a handsome gray suit, gray slacks, a blue tie and hair combed nicely on top. "Basil, my word, you look marvelous!"

Basil accepted the compliment with a nod. "Thank you, Dawson. So do you."

Dawson looked down to his pocket watch. "Well, then, we're wearing our Sunday best. Are you ready to go?"

Basil nodded again. "Yes, I'm ready. I'm just waiting for Mrs. Judson. She's still getting ready. Oh, and she won't be coming back with us. I've given her the rest of the day off and she'll resume her duties tomorrow."

"That was nice of you, Basil." Dawson smiled.

Basil shrugged a little. "It's the least I could do after putting up with me all these years." Dawson bit his lip to that. "The old girl's been like a second mother to me, kind, courteous, and always there whenever I needed her."

"Like a second mother." Dawson repeated, nodding a little. "Yes, today would be a good day to think of mothers." Basil looked away and shrugged. "Oh, forgive me, Basil. I didn't mean, that is--"

"No, it's quite all right, Dawson." Basil looked to the door leading to the kitchen, then back to Dawson. "There are moments when the slightest essence of her enters my mind. It lingers for a bit, or at times for hours, and then it goes away. I have the memories of her, and even better I've saved everything I had ever received from her. For example, she wrote me a letter once..." His voice drifted as he went to his bookshelf, sifting through a scrapbook. "I remember when I received high honors at my university, she wrote a beautiful letter and I put it with these newspaper clippings..."

"Oh, Basil, you never told me this." Dawson said with a grin.

"Yes, well, as you know, I usually don't wish to trouble others with such talk." Dawson knew that all too clearly and decided to say nothing while Basil flipped through the scrapbook. "No, not in here, this one is more current." He placed the scrapbook back and the shelf and reached for an older, dustier one. "I kept the letter in the original envelope so that I wouldn't lose it...however..."

"Hmm?" Dawson's eyebrows raised.

"I think I've lost it." The detective groaned, tapping his fingers lightly on the bookshelf.

"Oh, I certainly hope not!" Dawson frowned. "Perhaps it was misplaced?"

"No, that's impossible, Dawson." He said irritably. "I know I kept it in a scrapbook of old newspaper clippings and now it's gone." Sighing, he shoved the book back onto the shelf, staring at it with regret. "Oh, well. It's nothing worth a fret over. It was just a letter, nothing spectacular."

"Maybe not to anyone else, but to you!" Dawson walked over, placing a hand to upon his shoulder. "Tell you what, I'll help you look for it when we get back. How does that sound?" Basil shrugged a little, his face looking as gloomy as when he reached a dead end in one of his cases.

"Well, I thought about cleaning my work space a little bit while Mrs. Judson is gone. Although, as you can see, she has started to clean around this area, probably thinking you and I wouldn't get to it."

"Hello, gents!" Mrs. Judson entered the foyer, smiling brightly at the two. Dawson and Basil both faced her, gasping quietly to her new and rare appearance. Instead of her usual attire of an apron and bonnet, she was dressed in a lovely light blue two-piece dress with a white lace-trimmed blouse. "Ahh, don't we all look lovely?"

"You look quite radiant, Mrs. Judson." Dawson said, reaching to glance at his pocket watch. "Oh, we'd better get going. No telling how long it'll take us to get there with this weather!"

Basil agreed in a silent nod, reaching for his long cloak and hat. Dawson approached the coat rack, followed by Mrs. Judson.

"Oh, Mr. Basil, I should let you know that I have left something for you and Dawson. It's in the kitchen--"

Basil waved a hand. "Ahh, I already know what it is, my dear, and I thank you very much for it."

"What is it?" Dawson asked while applying his coat.

"You'll see." They both said at the same time and Mrs. Judson smiled to the detective. "That is, it's a surprise Mr. Dawson." Basil opened the door to their flat as a lightning flashed and thunder boomed outside. Eyes widened, he turned to the other two with a low sigh.

"This had better be a good day."