Scars of the Past

Chapter 2:

It was June 13, 1886. His eighteenth birthday. A momentous occasion in life; the transition from adolescence into adulthood. The young mouse studied his appearance in the mirror. He didn't feel any older, nor had his physical appearance changed much in the last year; although he might have grown a little taller and leaner. He ran a hand through his sandy disheveled hair in frustration. He'd spent the last ten minutes or so trying to tie a blasted green cravat around his neck.

"Honestly, Basil," came a feminine voice along with a soft chuckle from the door. The female mouse crossed the room and quickly took over the endeavor. "Eighteen years and you still can't tie your own cravat?"

Basil smiled. "Well it's a good thing I have such a wonderful mother to take care of me, isn't it?"

"And don't you forget it," she replied, wagging her finger at her son playfully.

Even though Amelia Brettman was a small, almost fragile lady, she was still the strongest woman Basil had ever met. She had a very weak immune system which made it very easy for her to become ill, so she was sick often. But that never deterred her. She always kept calm in a crisis; she took wonderful care of her husband and three children, putting their needs before hers; she was always seeking to help those in need. She was the backbone of their little family.

Basil strained uncomfortably, feeling as if the fabric tightening around his neck were a noose. "Why exactly do I have to wear the monkey suit again?" he asked for the umpteenth time.

"Because this is a momentous occasion!" his mother replied. "Your father is being honored for 20 years of service at Scotland Yard, plus it's your eighteenth birthday! That's plenty reason to celebrate."

"Yes, but is all this really necessary?" Basil urged, gesturing to himself. "I feel like a criminal at the gallows." He closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue, making exaggerated choking noises as if he were being hanged.

"You've been spending far too much time with Richard and his cases," said Amelia, rolling her eyes playfully. "This is a very nice restaurant we're going to, and your father's colleagues will be there, so we must look our best." She spun him around to look in the mirror again "Look, see how nice! The green brings out your eyes. You look very dashing."

"Thank you, mother dearest," Basil replied with a mischievous grin, leaning down so she could reach to give him a light kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome, birthday boy," Amelia replied with a warm smile, gazing up at her youngest child. All three of her children were bright and highly intelligent. But Basil had always been the most inquisitive, always asking "why?" as children do. He was certainly the most mischievous of the bunch; always getting into something, exploring, seeking to gain new knowledge. Traits he had inherited from Richard. He also shared his father's physical appearance; the two were so alike, it was uncanny. The only things he had inherited from her were his striking emerald eyes and love of music, particularly the violin.

Amelia felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. Byron, her eldest child, was twenty five and had moved out years ago, and was quickly rising through the ranks of her Majesty's secret service. Her daughter, Brynna, twenty-two years of age, had just gotten engaged to a well-known and successful lawyer. Now her youngest child was all grown up, a chemistry student at the University, top of his class. She felt her heart swelling with pride at the fine young mouse he'd become.

"No would you mind checking up on your father?" she asked, discreetly wiping the happy tears from her eyes as she headed out of the room while he followed. "He's been cooped up in that office all day. Maybe you can convince him to come out so we can get there on time; it wouldn't do for the Chief Inspector to be late to his own party."

"Anything for you, mum," Basil replied, giving her a quick peck on the cheek before bounding up the stairs. She laughed and shook her head, wishing she had half the energy he did.

…..

Basil gave a soft knock on the old oak door of his father's office before poking his head inside.

"Dad?"

An older male mouse who could have passed for Basil's twin sat cross legged in the middle of the floor amidst piles of books and papers. He glanced up from the worn leather-bound book he was scribbling notes in and smiled broadly at the sight of his son, leaping up from his spot on the floor with the energy of a mouse half his age.

"Basil, m'boy, look at this!" Richard exclaimed, rushing over to Basil and practically dragging him across the room in his enthusiasm, disrupting piles of paper scattered about the floor. Coming to an abrupt stop, he held a hand out indicating the wall in front of them as if presenting an exhibit to a large audience. "What do you make of it?"

After regaining his balance, Basil's eyes grew wide as he surveyed the area. Though he planned to become a chemist, his father's detective work greatly interested him as well, and he greatly admired him; though his methods were often eccentric, as was evident at this moment. The entire wall was covered in various scraps of paper; newspaper clippings, obituaries, photographs, police reports, criminal profiles, and notes in Richard's own scrawled handwriting. What made the sight more odd were the various colored strings and threads connecting each scrap of paper together, weaving together like a three dimensional game of "connect the dots."

"Um…" said Basil, nearly getting tangled up in the strings as he took a step forward for a closer inspection. "Well, my first impression is 'giant spider web.'"

"Exactly!" replied Richard, steely gray eyes shining with barely contained excitement. "It is my 'web of conspiracy.' Each crime committed within the past ten years has its place on this wall."

"Impressive," Basil remarked with a smile. "Judging from the maze of string, I'm guessing you've discovered that they're all connected somehow?"

"Oh no, no, no, not all of them," Richard explained. "The black threads all lead to dead ends, see?" Richard traced one thread with his finger to a small bare spot on the wall for explanation. "The yellows are ongoing investigations, the greens are solved cases, blues are cold cases, etc."

"What about the red?" Basil asked. "There seems to be more of those."

"Ah, now you're getting on the right track," Richard replied, barely able to contain his excitement. "The red ones are the most important of all. They are the ones that are connected."

Basil traced one with his finger, following it through the maze. "There's so many..."

Richard nodded solemnly. "Murders, robberies, blackmail… all intersecting and linking together."

"What do they lead to?" Basil asked curiously, carefully taking one of the threads in his hand and following it.

"Not what," Richard replied solemnly. "Who."

Basil came to a stop once he reached the end of the thread and stared blankly at the spot on the wall. The string he followed along with dozens more ended at a piece of paper marked only with a giant red question mark.

"…It's a dead end."

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" Richard admitted. "The murders of several members of the board at a prominent University, the strangling of a wealthy American businessman, a robbery at the latest exhibit at the Museum of Natural History, fires at the docks supposedly caused by a faulty gas leak, along with dozens more murders, kidnappings, vandalisms… all committed by several different individuals…" Richard turned and looked Basil straight in the eye, his tone deadly serious. "…but orchestrated by one great criminal mastermind."

"Ah. And the identity of this individual…"

"Still unknown. But I'm close… so very close… to finding him out. For years his heinous crimes have gone unpunished. Even if the actual criminals are caught, no trace can be led back to him. He's been untouchable. Until now." Richard turned back to the maze, hands clasped behind his back. "We've discovered the web," he remarked, gazing at the efforts of his life's work. "Now we just need to find the spider."

"What mischief are you boys getting into now?" came Amelia's voice from the doorway.

"Mischief?" Richard remarked, feigning offense. "No mischief here. Right Basil?"

"Not at all," Basil agreed innocently. "Just… looking for a spider."

Amelia chuckled at the same roguish grin on both their faces. "I'm not even going to ask. Come on then, we're going to be late."


Author's Notes: Hope I didn't make Basil too out of character here. He's much younger and naive, way before he became a detective and got all serious and cautious of people. Mainly trying to show the bond between him and his parents here.

And yes, I drew inspiration from Guy Ritchie's Game of Shadows and Sherlock Holmes' "web of conspiracy."

And I use the last name "Brettman" as tribute to Jeremy Brett since Eve Titus tributed his first name to Basil Rathbone, and also because it's hard for me to picture calling him anything but Basil. And he mentioned in the first chapter that he goes by his first name rather than surname to protect his family from his enemies. Mainly because of what will happen in this story.

Just a warning, the rest will be very angsty and depressing, so read at your own risk O.o

Basil and Brynna (c)Eve Titus and Disney
Richard and Amelia Brettman (c) me