A/N: I wrote this at midnight. Surprisingly, I get some of my better ideas at night. I hope these characters I made up are interesting and realistic enough. We don't focus on Holmes until the next chapter.
Mr. and Mrs. Harvey
I later realized that it was perfectly logical that Inspector Lestrade would assume I murdered Mr. Harvey. I had the motivation, the opportunity, everything. But how could Holmes possibly believe I was guilty? The events of my excursion repeated in my head.
I told Holmes that he was always welcome to come with me, but of course he refused. "Watson, I'll just make it a less enjoyable holiday for you. You know perfectly well we'll be back in a days time with me along." So, I decided to leave him, but not without some worry. He appeared to be in one of those moods of his.
When I arrived at my cousin's house, she immediately introduced me to the Harvey's. Now, first about Genevieve. Her most significant physical characteristic is her bright blonde hair. It's almost yellow. Like her neighbors and friends, she is very well-to-do, and can be a bit conceited. I believe Genevieve received an enormous inheritance from her relatives. At least that's what she tells me.
The Harvey's seemed normal at first. Mrs. Harvey (or as Genevieve called her, Stella) had a pallid appearance, brown hair, muggy green eyes. And although she was around the same age as my cousin, in her early twenties, she was slightly over weight. She had a very sharp tongue, but Genevieve informed me it was only her timid and defenseless nature that caused her verbal assaults.
Mr. Harvey was a rambunctious and suspicious man. Stocky, and red haired, he acted cautious and warily around me, and even Genevieve. I wondered what he could be hiding. Shortly after my arrival I discovered Genevieve was also a gossip. She chattered to me about Mr. Harvey night and day.
"I've never understood why poor Stella even married Andrew. Always getting drunk and staying out all night. It's a disgrace! And such a fine lady like Stella, well I never!" Once she began a rant like this, she would continue for hours. Although I didn't have trouble getting her to talk about her neighbors, it was hard to get some real information about them.
One thing that puzzled me was how much the Harvey's came over to my cousin's house. Genevieve officially only lived with the servants and the groom, but the couple seemed to habitat her mansion so often, it was as if they were related to her.
A few weeks after I arrived, Mrs. Harvey came downstairs in the morning looking very tired. But you would only notice that after seeing the large scratches down her face and neck. She was wearing a high collared dress to try and hide the wounds in addition to dabbing white powder over them. When I asked her about it, she muttered something about running into a tree. Then about four nights later, I was woken up by a faint, muffled, crying. After a few minutes the sound faded away, and I brushed it off, deciding to ask Genevieve about the matter in the morning. This is how our conversation preceded:
"Excuse me, but last night I heard someone crying. Was that Mrs. Harvey?" I asked this with a slight trepidation.
"Oh, what? Are you sure you heard something, maybe it was just your stomach. Was that meat cooked enough yesterday when-"
"Genevieve dear, I am certain that I heard someone weeping." I interrupted her swiftly, by now I was used to her deliberate avoidance of the subject at hand.
"Um, well," she appeared to be getting desperate. "Yes that was Stella. Poor girl, with that husband of hers you know." She mumbled the last part before laughing nervously, then resumed staring at her crystal plate.
I decided not to push it and ask exactly what her husband did that led to her sobbing in the dead of night. That very evening something happened that nearly caused me to flee the building completely.
I was simply walking up the corridor to my room, when I heard a scratching noise. It was rather unnerving in the complete silence. I followed the continuous sound to it's source: a plain oak door.
I swung the door open very slowly. It made a small creaking sound, which seemed to have replaced the no longer present scratching. The room before me was pitch black. My heart was beating faster, and blood roared in my ears. I took a lantern from my room and carried it back through the hallway. I reached the dark room and stepped inside, the soft light filling part of the room.
It appeared like every other room in the house. A desk was illuminated on the right, a canopy bed sat in the middle. When the light was cast on the far left I stared in shock.
A gigantic cougar stood there, paralyzing me with its gaze. It scratched the ground with one paw, and let loose a massive roar. I was still frozen with fear. It wasn't until the oversized cat ran straight at me that I was snapped out of my daze.
I tore out the door and slammed it behind me, hearing a loud thud as the cougar hit the wood. Luckily nobody had seen me. Or so I thought. Moments later, Mrs. Harvey ran up to me, her hair tattered and frizzy.
"Doctor did you…" she said this fearfully, then seemed to change course. "What on earth do you think you were doing? You have no right to just barge into a room you have no authorization in!"
"I'm very sorry, but the room was so dark I couldn't see a thing."
She seemed to sense I was lying. She nodded quickly, with wide eyes. "Well, I apoligize. I suppose I'll retire now." With one last glance at the door, she skittered off down the passage.
In the morning I was about to tell my cousin of my decision I had made to return home. But before I could Mr. Harvey approached me. I toke this to be a bad sign. He rarely talked to me, unless Mrs. Harvey was with him.
"Doctor. How good to see you!" Yes, this was very strange indeed.
"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to join some friends of mine in a game of poker this afternoon, at the club. That is unless you would rather say here." he said, curling up one eyebrow. Mrs. Harvey almost certainly told him her suspicions.
I couldn't resist one of my weaknesses sometimes, and that was gambling. Usually Holmes had my checkbook safely locked away, but I had to take it with me on the trip. Unfortunately, I lost, as did everyone else aside from Mr. Harvey. I was so sure I was going to win, but I ended up losing more money than I could pay. Only after promising that I would pay him back as soon as I had the money was I able to leave. I suspected that if Genevieve wasn't present, he would have attacked me. And so it was with a muddled mind and a threat from Mr. Harvey that I departed from my cousin's mansion.
A/N: R&R.
