Chapter 2

Surprising himself, Holmes went himself to his friend's house to report their daughter's death. Her mother broke down in tears, having to be led away by a maid, her father just sat down staring at the opposite wall. "Are you sure?" He asked finally,

"definitely" Holmes nodded, "I'm sorry Edward," his friend shook him off.

"You're a detective! Why didn't you find her!?" He snapped, Holmes sighed,

"I didn't know she was missing, you see I haven't been out or checked my paper in a few months" Holmes sighed, Edward brought his head to his hands.

"Thank you" he whispered,

"for what?" Holmes turned, unsure if he'd heard his friend right,

"Thanks for finding her" Edward added,

"and I'll find her killer" Holmes promised, nodding to his old friend before he left, "good to see you again."

When Holmes returned to his house it was to find the young messenger, he'd sent to Watson what seemed a life time ago, sitting in his kitchen with Miss Hudson eating scones. He opened his mouth a split second as though he was going to say something, caught Miss Hudson's eye and closed it. Proceeding up the stairs in silence.

"He's upstairs," Holmes heard the young messenger's voice pipe up happily, someone muttered a word of thanks and he heard footsteps on the stairs. Watson opened the door cautiously. "How'd it go?" he asked, in reply Holmes pulled out his violin and let out a melancholy note. Watson sat down in the chair opposite, Holmes looked up at him; he looked like he'd had more sleep last night and had combed his hair before leaving. Watson smiled weakly, "I saw that boy downstairs are you adopting him or something?" Holmes caught his friend's smile and laughed, "if Miss Hudson has her way we probably will be," the two smiled at the though of a child running around in Holmes' house.

"Five deaths" Holmes nodded, after they'd turned back to the subject of the murder, "it's our job to stop the last four,"

"how are we going to manage that?" Watson asked, peering hesitantly out of the window at the quickly darkening sky, Holmes knew what he was thinking. "If you need to get back, I can understand," but Watson shook his head,

"no, your right we need to stop those next four murders" he nodded, Holmes smiled, he couldn't help feeling proud of himself, "lets get to work then."

The two of them worked long into the next morning; drawing out graphs and diagrams seeing if they could predict when the next was to take place, this was difficult considering they had nothing to compare it too.

When Miss Hudson came in later that morning to serve breakfast it was to discover both men sound asleep: Watson in his old chair and Holmes at his desk. "Are they asleep ma'am?" The messenger boy appeared round the corner, "I think so James" she nodded,

"so that's his name?" Holmes murmured, twitching slightly, before opening his eyes. "Is he staying?" Miss Hudson fixed him with a glare,

"If you'll let me sir?" James asked hopefully, Holmes had already surveyed Miss Hudson had bought the boy new clothes. "What about your family?" Holmes yawned, sitting up, glancing quickly at Watson who still slept on. "I'm an Orphan sir, me mum died giving birth to my little brother, he died too, and me dad died in an accident at the factory,"

"I don't see why not then" Holmes stretched, "he's your responsibility Miss Hudson," She beamed "Oh thank you Mr Holmes" she thanked him, hurrying James from the room to leave Holmes to get up in peace.

Holmes glanced again at Watson, a small smile playing across his mouth. He reached steadily for a pen, then crept silently behind his friend's chair. He reached over to twitch the pen just in front of Watson's face, Watson swatted it away in his sleep, Holmes kept this up until Watson's eyes began to groggily open, he retracted the pen quickly allowing his friend a moment then bellowed, "WATSON!" Watson jumped with so much shock he fell out of his chair, Holmes burst out laughing. "Very funny Holmes," Watson got back to his feet looking annoyed, then he remembered. "Probably should be getting back to Mary" he sighed, reaching for his coat and hat, Holmes nodded slowly letting Watson pass him into the hall, besides he should probably pay a visit to his friends too.

Holmes knocked half heartedly on the door, he was never very good at inviting himself round to people's houses without a reason. The door was opened by the maid who'd opened it yesterday, "I'm sorry Mr Holmes, Mr Fredricks is out" she apologised, then couldn't help adding "The misses thinks he's gone on a booze." Holmes nodded, after all he saw it as perfectly reasonable, he'd just lost his daughter and was cooped up in the house with his wailing wife, as if to reinforce this fact a loud wail came from the top of the house, "I should be getting back to her" the maid nodded "would you like to come in and wait?"

"No, no I'll be fine" Holmes smiled, turning on his heel hearing the door close behind him.

Holmes returned to the house feeling rather down in spirits, it was strange not having Watson in the house, he still found that after all this time. James took his coat for him, standing on tip toe to reach the hanger. "Are you on a detective mystery?" he asked excitedly,

"sort of" Holmes smiled, leaning heavily against the wall,

"the nice lady who used to live in the slum with us taught me to read, I always used to read your stories in the paper when I could find one" James beamed "your friend Mr Watson wrote them,"

"yes I know" Holmes smiled, feeling a little better.

"Miss Hudson let me read the newest one about you investigating that girl's death," Holmes groaned not wanting to be reminded of that. "What about that necklace trapped in the contraption was that hers?"

"What?" Holmes stood up straight again, looking the young boy in the eye. James looked a little nervous at this, "in the photo" he stammered "there was a necklace just below that cutter thing, in the clogs," Holmes gave a whoop of laughter.

"Come on" he pulled his coat back off the hanger,

"where are we going?" James asked, the excitement in his voice returning,

"we're going to solve a mystery."

The factory still hadn't been opened up, because of a worker strike in the area, so everything was just as he'd left it. "Where was this necklace?" He turned to James, James pointed at a small opening in the ground, near the cutter, where you could see into the machinery of the factory, sure enough a gold glint was trapped amongst it. Holmes bent down carefully, "turn the machine off" he told James, the last thing he wanted was his hand to be cut off the moment the machine restarted, "It's off" he heard James call, Holmes nodded to show he'd got the message and reached his hand inside the clogs, moving the piece of jewellery round trying to set it free, finally he succeeded, holding it up for James to see. "That's really pretty sir" James eyed the gems inside in amazement.