Persuading a Detective

Basil continued removing his costume, pulling on a cord; which deflated his seemingly rotund body, revealing his slender form, startling his three guests. Olivia glances up at John and grinned as she pulls away and made her way toward the mouse detective.

"Mr. Basil? I need your help, and I-"

Basil apparently doesn't hear her as he throws on a cherry robe and, grabbing a dart from an end table, throws it across the room to hit the bull's eye of the dart board on the wall.

"All in good time," Basil said as he moved about the room.

"But-but you must understand. I'm in terrible trouble!" said Olivia as she followed him around the room.

"If you will excuse me," said Basil as he moved on.

John frowned and stepped in front of the mouse.

"Excuse me, Mr. Basil? But I believe our young friend here has asked for your help!" growled John.

Basil again seems to not hear him and walks on. Dawson strode forward shaking a finger at Basil.

"Here, now, now! Now see here! This young lady is in need of assistance. I think you ought…" He is interrupted when Basil shoves a gun in his hand.

"Will you hold this doctor?" asks Basil.

John and Olivia gap and stare at Basil in wonder as he then moves over to John and motions him forward.

"Of course," Dawson was saying with his eyes closed, he opened them and flinched when he realized the gun was pointed at his head. Basil then retrieves it and walks toward John again, "Ah, wait just a moment, how the deuce did you know I was a doctor?"

Basil doesn't respond right away as he loads a bullet into the gun, then hands it to John.

"Will you please hold this my good chap?" he then turns to Dawson, away from the still shocked mouse, "A surgeon, to be exact. Just returned from military duty in Afghanistan. Am I right?"

"Why, oh, yes! Major David Q. Dawson. But how could you possibly-"

"Quite simple, really," he walks up to Dawson and lifts up the doctor's arm, revealing a stitch mark on the sleeve. "You've sewn your torn cuff together with the Lembert stitch, which of course, only a surgeon uses," he dropped Dawson's arm and continued speaking as he gathered up several pillows. "And the thread is a unique form of catgut, distinguished by it's peculiar pungency and found only in the Afghan provinces."

As he finished, Basil tosses the three pillows to a startled Dawson, who manages to catch all three as the cover his face.

A muffled, "Amazing!" came from behind the pillows.

"Actually, it's elementary, my dear Dawson. Now, Lieutenant, if you would be as so kind to return me my weapon?" Basil asked John as he removed the revolver from John numb fingers.

"How in blue blazes..." whispered John, only for the detective to grin at his startled expression.

"How I knew you were a soldier? Well, that's quite easily deduced, my friend. Though you don't wear the uniform, your stance and stiff posture are those of a mouse who has been trained to do so." Here he grabbed John's hand and turned it over, "And as I handed you and took back my revolver, I noticed your palms were heavily calloused and you had old burns on your fingers; possible powder burns or burns from holding heated metal. The boots on your feet are the standard cavalry boots used by your Cavalrymice, as well as your coat and kepi. You seem to favor your right leg, giving you an almost unnoticeable limp, an old bullet wound or sword slash perhaps?" at John's dumbfounded nod he continued.

"Now, as to your being a Lieutenant, not only is there a faint outline where you once had your officer's bars stitched to your coats sleeve, but by your mannerisms and the way you take charge of a situation, such as at this moment when you confronted me, I can tell the you were once an officer of a low rank, but not as low as a sergeant as again your coat is of a much nicer make." With that, Basil gave him a friendly smile, "So my good sir, tell me if I am mistaken."

John chuckled as he scratched the back of his head, "Yes, you're exactly right on the mark. I am a Lieutenant, and yes I was shot in the leg during one of the many skirmishes I've fought in, never knew it gave me a limp though..."

"My I know your name, my friend?" asked Basil.

"John Hunter, former Lieutenant of the 43rd New York and private of the 2nd Cavalry regiments," said John as he gave the detctive a quick salute.

Basil smiles and then shakes John's hand.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Hunter! Now if I may?" he then cocks the revolver and aims it at the pillows, and Dawson.

John's eyes widen as he quickly grabs Olivia and dives behind a chair. Dawson quickly looks around in panic before throwing the pillows onto another armchair, and ducks behind John and Olivia's. Basil readjusts his aim.

BANG!

The pillows explode, sending feathers flying throughout the room. The three mice cautiously peeked out of their hiding place. The maid, Mrs. Judson came running back into the room.

"What in heavens name?" she shouted, looking at the feathers floating around the room, even accidentally inhaling a few, she spits them out, "Oh! Oh! My good pillows!"

She then glares angrily at Basil who his kneeling in the chair, tossing the remaining feathers aside.

"Mr. Basil!" she growled, causing Basil to stop and peek his head above the top of the chair, "How many times have I told you-"

Basil jumps from the chair and walks over to Mrs. Judson.

"There, there, Mrs. Judson, it's quite all right. Ah!" he sniffs the air, "M-mmm! I believe I smell some of those delightful cheese crumpets of yours. Why don't you fetch our guests some?" he says as he pushes her back to the kitchen.

"But, ah, but, but…" Mrs. Judson protests as Basil gently pushes her from the room and closes the door.

"Now…" Basil dropped down on all fours and began to search the floor, "I know that bullet's here somewhere-"

Olivia spots the bullet on the floor, picks it up and holds it out to him. Once Basil notices it in her hand he grabs it.

"Thank you Miss…"

"Flaversham, Olivia Flaversham." She says with a curtsy.

Basil waves it away distracted again.

"Whatever!"

"Yes but you don't understand-" begins Olivia again.

"Shhh!"

John, finally gathering his scattered nerves, had had enough of Basil's attitude. Yes, he may be an excellent detective, but that is no way to treat a child.

"Now see here, Mr. Basil-"

"Shhh!"

Basil moved to one of the cluttered tables and opened a box, removing another bullet. Taking the one he just shot and the other, he placed them side-by-side under the microscope and began compareing the markings on both.

The first set of markings matched.

"Yeah…"

The second set matched.

"Yes!" whispered Basil in excitement.

Basil twists the bullets around once more to the third set, when his good spirits came crashing down, the last set of markings didn't match up, going in different directions.

"Noo! Drat!" wailed the detective as he grabbed his head in frustration. He then reaches down and picks up one of the bullets and tosses it aside, depressed, "Another dead end..."

Basil, with his head hanging down and his shoulders slumped, sluggishly made his way to a chair.

"He was within my grasp," Basil said to no one in particular as he fell into his seat.

Dawson and John glanced at each other as Basil grabbed a violin beside the high-backed chair and begin to play a slow, sad tune. Dawson nudged Olivia encouragingly, she looks up at both him and John, they nod their heads toward Basil. She slowly walked to his seat.

"Now will you please listen to me? My daddy's gone and I'm all alone."

Basil stops play for a second.

"Young lady, this is the most inopportune time," He then resumed playing, but as he continued to play he noticed a few tears sliding down her face, he swallows to loosen his suddenly clenched throat, "Surely your mother knows where he is?"

John looks sadly over to Dawson, who returns the look, both knowing the answer to that question, as that had been one of their many questions they had asked her before.

Olivia kept her gaze on the floor as a more tears formed in her eyes.

"I…I don't have a mother," She stated in a whisper.

The violin screeches loudly as a startled Basil abruptly stops playing. He slowly sits up, a look of sympathy on his face and guilt burning in his chest.

"Well…um…well, then perhaps…" the sympathetic look vanishes as clamps down on his emotions, "See here! I simply have no time for lost fathers!"

Olivia's head seems to hang even lower as Basil turns away, trying his best not to see the hurt on her downcast face. John walks up to her and places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Don't give up yet Olivia, just tell him what happened," he whispered, tightening his grip on her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

Olivia sniffed once, wiped her eyes and straightened herself. She stepped toward Basil once more and places her hands on her hips.

"I didn't lose him! He was taken by a bat!"

Basil's eyes widen and he spins around to face Olivia, a look of excitement etched on his face. John and Dawson glance at each other, puzzled at his sudden change of expressions.

"Did you say…bat?" he asked her in a low voice as he leaned over Olivia intently.

Olivia steps back more in astonishment than fear.

"Yes…" she stuttered nervously.

Basil smiles and continued in his questioning.

"Did he have a crippled wing?"

"I don't know, but he had a peg leg..." answered Olivia, puzzled by the question.

Basil leapt onto the arms of the chair, his arms spread wide.

"Ha!"

Dawson steps forward.

"I say, do you know him?" he asked.

John raised an eyebrow as he looked at the detective intently. Basil sat on the back of the chair as he began to explain.

"Know him? That bat, one Fidget by name, is in the employ of the fiend who was the very target of my experiment! The horror of my every waking moment. The nefarious Professor Ratigan!" Basil points with his violin bow in the direction of the fireplace.

There a picture of a well dressed rat sits on the mantle. A flash of lightning reveals Ratigan with a sinister grin on his face.

"Uh, Ratigan?" asked John as he pulled a trembling Olivia closer to him.

Basil leaned over the back of the chair, a scowl on his face.

"He's a genius, Hunter! A genius…twisted for evil. The Napoleon of crime!" Another flash of lightning fills the room, followed b a rumble of thunder.

"As bad as all that, eh?" asked Dawson.

Suddenly Basil vanishes from their sight. His sudden reappearance by poking his head through the banister makes all three of them jump.

"Worse, Dawson! For years, I've tried to capture him and I've come close!" He leaps off the stairs and walks toward the fireplace, shaking his fist at the portrait of his archenemy, "So very close. But each time he narrowly evades my grasp, and disappears like a shadow..."

John, Dawson, and Olivia follow the detective as he begins to pace in front of the roaring fire.

"Not a corner of London's safe while Ratigan's at large. There's no evil scheme he wouldn't concoct! No depravity he wouldn't commit!" spat Basil.

Lightning flashes across the rat's portrait again.

"Who knows what dastardly scheme that villain may be plotting even as we speak!" growled Basil.

John leaned toward Watson and whispered so only he could hear.

"Whatever this rat is up to, I pray that Olivia's father is all right."

"As do I my friend, as do I," Dawson whispered back.

=(3)=

10/14/11 – Hey! I know I originally put this story up for adoption, but I haven't seen anyone else working on this yet, so I decided I would update and fix the way I wrote this story so far. Don't know if I will write any more chapters or not but, we'll see.

Well what did you think of this chapter? Please review, I really want to know what you readers think of this story! Last chapter I only got one review! Please, then I can write more chapters!

Next chapter: Meeting Toby

-Dune