A Suspicion

As it turned out, Holmes returned not soon after Edgar departed in the guise of a blackguard whose face was so rife with malice and contempt I initially thought myself in the company of one of Edgar's "friends."

Needless to say I was startled at the first glance I caught of this ruffian making his way causal into the sitting room, but a second glance told me that the man was indeed Holmes as he started to violently curse himself a blue streak, ripping the filthy hat he wore off and running a dirty hand through greasy hair on the way to his bedroom.

"No luck I take it?" I asked cordially from the table, my dinner long forgotten in the face of my friend's antics.

"None whatsoever! I- Watson? When did you return?"

I smiled, managing to just barely hide my mirth at my friend's singular unawareness of the world outside anything pertaining to a case that was normally of some magnitude.

"I returned late this afternoon," I continued to smile.

"Ah, my apologies then. This latest case of mine has me completely at odds with all other things in this world at the moment. The man I was busy hunting is no amateur and I daresay it will be no easy feat for even me to ensnare him if today's events were any indication!"

He continued to vent his frustration as he quickly turned to divest himself of his rough impersonation, returning in what felt not a blink of an eye later in his usual evening attire and throwing himself into his chair in a huff.

"It can't be as bad as all that, can it?" I asked curiously, moving to take my chair beside his, as I'd not seen my friend in such a fit in some time. The many cases that he'd been offered since his return had kept him quite busy and satisfied, and while there'd been a share of problems that even he himself had thought complex, I had not seen him so vexed by a case since Moriarty.

I still shudder to think of the villain's name, and did so just then, but my friend's attentions were obviously elsewhere as he divulged the case so far.

Apparently he'd been put on the trail of a string of murders that so far had left Scotland Yard, and more importantly Lestrade, baffled.

The only connection between them being that all the victims had been set to testify against a rather shady character whom supposedly ran one of the largest ratting houses in London and made certain if any of his customers bit off more than they could chew that they were "dealt with." This was why the victims had been convinced to testify against him in the first place, as many of those that he had already had "dealings" with had been good friends.

It was when I asked the name of the man, however, that the alarm bells first truly started to go off in my mind.

"Giles Harrison, I believe the devil's name was," Holmes waved a hand angrily, rising from his seat to grab his oldest pipe and some shag tobacco from the slipper. Despite his frustration, however, it was much to my misfortune that he noticed immediately when I tensed in my seat.

"Watson? Do you know of him?"

My mind raced, my promise to Edgar warring with my loyalty to Holmes. I'd promised not to say anything, and a gentleman always keeps his word. But Holmes was my best of friends, and far be it from me to keep any pertinent information from him about a case. And what of Edgar? The idea that this Harrison would kill to stay in business was not far fetched by the look of Edgar's fingers earlier today. Even more harm could come to him if I exposed him as a fellow in debt to Harrison. Holmes would insist upon my encouraging Edgar to talk with him about possibly capturing the man in the act and testifying against him afterwards. The last thing that Edgar needed was to be thrown back into the snake pit that he was willing to try and crawl out of. This was probably the very reason Edgar had asked me not to tell Holmes.

"Watson? Are you alright, my dear fellow?" Holmes asked for what must have been the nth time as his grey eyes shone with unspoken concern.

"Um, yes! Quite alright! I was just reflecting on how awful a fellow this Harrison chap must be is all."

"Indeed," Holmes nodded, though while his face was blank his eyes told of the machine that was his mind grinding away at its current problem. I had no doubt either, that my unusual reaction to Harrison's name played a part, which made my night a restless one and caused me to get up extremely early the following morning.