Whispers in the Dark
Chapter two
"Easy there Toby! Remember, no running today or both Mrs. Judson and Dr. Dawson are going to have my head. You know how they can act like the perfect pair of mother hens."
The Basset Hound left out a joyful bark at his little master's words as he slowed down. Even if he felt that it was a shame not to run around now that he was finally out of the house, Toby couldn't complain. His little master finally got him out of that boring apartment he shared with his human master and took him out for a walk, after all. For Toby, this was quite a treat. His human master had little time to see to the pup's needs of fresh air and companionship, so Toby was glad to accept any form of freedom and company and his little master was offering him just that. Plus, it was all so fun walking around town with the little mouse seated on his back, especially when Miss Basil was to pat him on the head or nose for a "job well done". He felt so proud when being praised – it was a feeling just as heavenly pleasant as the one of being needed.
Well, at least that's according to Toby.
Basil of Baker Street smiled as the hound started moving slower. It was just so easy talking to this particular dog. But then again, ever since they first met, she knew Toby was something special. Unlike any other dog she had trained, this dog was something special. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but she just knew that her bond with Toby was something a bit more different than that of a dog and its trainer. And that is why she felt that she could always count on Toby.
"Good boy, Toby. Nice and slow is the way to go." She said, patting her canine friend on the head. "Now, we just turn this corner here and we're there."
True to her word, after a few more steps, they were at the police section.
Good, thought Basil, the sooner I get this over with, the better.
It was not that she didn't enjoy getting on the yarder's nerves, but there were times when she felt out of place down at the station. When the guys would start complaining about something their wives said or wanted, or when they would invite him to have a couple of glasses of ale with them after solving a particularly difficult case (for them at least) instead of going out with – let's say – their families, she just felt… well, she guessed that the doctor had once said that the feeling was called "hurt", but to this day she still did not quite understand how someone could be hurt when there was nothing physically wrong with their body.
"Bark!" Toby barked, announcing their arrival. She smiled.
Still, whatever was that feeling she felt whenever the boys would start acting… as they did, that was not the only reason why she didn't like spending more time than it was completely necessary at the Yard. One other reason, and probably a better reason, took the shape of one Chief-Inspector Vole.
The Chief-Inspector was by no means a fool. He was a bright man and an accomplished police officer, yet he tended to overlook things one time too many during an investigation, thus drawing the wrong conclusion. In her opinion, that superficial way of his to solve a case was way below his actual capacities, and that unnerved her to no end. If a man is good is something, then why doesn't he do it right? This is precisely the reason why she made it her mission to keep the older mouse on his toes by taunting and making a fool out of him when she considered that doing so would stimulate him. It was quite interesting how a few words thrown at the right time would transform Vole into a raging bull – in the right sort of way, of course.
Still… she did not enjoy taunting the inspector. True, she was happy with the result, yet that didn't mean she liked the method.
And then there was Detective Inspector Clawes…
The young detective was most certainly a man like no other she had ever had ever met before. She learned from the other officers that he attended medical school, but dropped out of it because of certain family issues. The medical world had truly lost an excellent doctor, but at least Scotland Yard received a proper future, for people like Clawes represent the future. A practitioner of deduction and reasoning, applying his own medical knowledge, scientific experience, and logic methodology in his own cases, Clawes is quite "something else". And to top it all off, he was quite good looking as well…
… Now where did that come from?
Climbing off Toby, Basil – still lost in her own thoughts – lost her balance when her feet touched the pavement. Toby immediately moved to catch her, eying his little master with concern.
"Oh, I hate these days." She muttered to herself while moving to gather up the papers she had dropped. "These blasted hormones are turning my brain to mush…" She got to her feet and counted her files. When she was sure she had them all, she turned to Toby, the dog still watching her with a hint of worry. Basil just laughed. "Thank you, Toby, and don't you dare worry about me too. I get enough of that from my doctor and landlady."
The dog smiled and wagged his tale. This was more like his little master.
"Good boy." Basil said, patting his nose. The next moment, Toby's long tongue moved to lick her cheek, yet succeeded to cover half of her in dog drool. "Yuck! Toby!" exclaimed Basil and moved to clean herself as Toby started jumping playfully around her.
"No Toby! Heel! This is not the time for games." Toby halted, clearly disappointed. At this, Basil sighed. Confounded! "Toby, I just have to deliver these papers to Inspector Vole and then I'll be right back out and then I'll take you to the park near Baker Street where you can chase after cats and play with the squirrels. Happy?"
Leaving a very excited and cheerful Basset Hound behind her, Basil entered the police station.
Then almost immediately wished she didn't.
"There he is! Mr. Basil, what is your take on the police's prompt response to last night's murder?"
"Mr. Basil, has your opinion of the London police force changed in any way?"
Oh yes… reporters… any sane person's worse nightmare – besides lawyers, of course. They were quite a puzzle, these people: they always knew when and where to be exactly at the time when you last needed them and this particular lot never seemed to miss a chance to get her interview, most annoying, if you were to ask her. But what puzzled Basil the most about these creatures was how they could talk faster than a horse could gallop.
"Come now, Mr. Basil – two words for the press." Chirped in a mouse, elbowing the others out of his way. Yes, reporters were the most annoying of creatures.
Just then, her keen eyes caught sight of a certain gray mouse coming out to check what all the commotion was all about. Upon laying eyes on the mouse that was currently the press's center of attention, Inspector Vole of Scotland Yard grinned.
Well, someone certainly was having fun at her expense. It was time to remedy that.
Pretending not to notice the older mouse, Basil turned back to the press, a look of pure innocence on her features.
"Very well, I shall say two words for the press." She said in a smooth, steady voice, like she was about to talk about one of the dullest things imaginable. She closed her eyes briefly, turning slightly in the general direction of the inspector. Once she opened them she caught the inspector sending her a suspicious glance, as if he was telling her that he knew what she was doing. At that, she could barely keep down a chuckle.
"Inspector Vole!" she exclaimed all of the sudden, putting up one of her best masks of 'surprise'. Needles to say, that averted all the reporters' attention towards the Chief of Scotland Yard, making said inspector gawk then send the consulting detective a look of absolute loath just before his line of view had been blocked by a mouse who started jumping right in front of him, and then another… and another, all of which were asking questions all at once, notebooks in hand and pencils scribbling furiously.
This clearly was not what he was expecting.
"You shall receive all the answers you seek from our spokesman at today's press conference at noon. Please have a little more patience until then! Constable, hold the door!"
And that is precisely the reason why reporters were such dangerous creatures.
"Thank you constable… That was a close call…" said the inspector once he was safe and sound in his office. Never will he personally go and check on the commotion caused by reporters, and even if by some miracle he would forget that, he most definitely will never forget to run if said commotion was caused by reporters interrogating a certain consulting detective.
"You are most welcome, inspector, yet you needn't call me 'constable'." A smooth voice said from his left. Eyes the size of chicken eggs, Vole spun around, only to meet the sight of Basil of Baker Street taking off a police cap (where did he get that?!) and placing it on a nearby desk (his desk!) along with a stack of files he was holding. "Just curious though, what did you think I was going to tell them? 'Shut up', 'Get lost' or maybe something more… degenerate, like… 'Shove off' was the correct saying, was it not?"
"Mr. Basil!" shouted the inspector just as the other mouse took a seat in the chair the inspector usually reserved for any guests he might have. My, someone was quite cranky this morning.
"Yes, Inspector?" she responded, faking a look of complete interest.
At that, the inspector looked like he was close to blowing up like a active volcano, but he just closed his eyes, took a deep breath, counted to ten, paced the room, then, in a steady voice, said: "Mr. Basil, did you bring the files I asked for?"
Quite the professional.
"Indeed I did, Inspector!" she said, pointing to the files that lay on the desk. Eagerly, Vole picked them up then started looking over them.
She took this moment to look around the office and immediately decided that if Mrs. Judson was to lay eyes on papers scattered all around the floor and worktable she would have a stroke.
Turning back to the inspector, she noticed how the anticipation in his eyes had faded rapidly, being replaced by exhaustion. Disappointed, he dropped the files back on the desk, rubbing his eyes with a hand.
"Good… Thank you Mr. Basil. We appreciate your assistance in this case." He said diplomatically, but there was more than that in his statement. To the consultant detective's ears, it sounded almost like he was… defeated.
It was time to investigate things a little further.
"Are they not the files you requested?" she asked. "I know my landlady keeps complaining about the mess in my study, but –" Vole shook his head.
"No, it is not that. These are the right files… It's just that- "
"- they do not hold the answers you have been looking for, is that it?" Vole just looked at her for a moment before nodding.
"Just curious, inspector…" she made a pause, only to monitor the other mouse's reaction. He seemed to have already started counting. "What is going on? Not that I would mind taking a guess, as your predecessor used to say, but I fear that I don't quite have sufficient data in order to establish a valid conclu–"
"Do go along and guess, Mr. Basil." Vole interrupted, taking a seat himself. He sighed. "I know that you're actually jumping at the chance to 'guess' as you said my predecessor had so eloquently put it. If you wish so, then please do. At this very moment I would not mind… Not anymore… Oh, and I assure you that whatever you come up with won't be that far away from the truth – data or no data."
Something was most certainly wrong.
"This is about the murderer you apprehended last night." It was not a question, and Vole did not appear at all surprised.
"Spot on, as always Mr. Basil. I did tell you that you wouldn't be that far off from the truth." He said with a smile, but it was a hollow smile, a tired smile. "Tell me, Mr. Basil – how much, do you know about last night's murder."
"Not much, I shall admit. I only had a couple of moment to peak at the headlines of today's newspaper before coming here. Though from what I managed to deduce from the presence of all those reporters out there, I taught that you had it solved. Now that I look at you, I can tell that is not quite the truth."
"Right again, Mr. Basil. Is there anything else you'd be willing to deduce?"
"Would love to, but in this situation I do believe it would help you more if you would tell someone about this problem instead of hearing it coming from someone else. Talking from past experience, I know that sometimes it's best to have someone there just to listen to your problems, otherwise they would continue to bottle up inside you and would eventually eat you from the inside out."
Inspector Vole looked shocked. "You're acting very thoughtful this morning, Basil. Usually you wouldn't dare miss an opportunity to make me feel like an incompetent fool. Why the sudden change of heart?"
"Why the sudden change of faith?" she shot right back at him, but inside, she was asking herself the same thing. "I know you think of me as a heartless bastard most of the times, and I won't say that I'm not one, but even I don't have it in me to kick a man while he's down. It would simply be bad form on my part. Plus, you have yet to call me 'Mr. Bassu' yet and that in all deserves a little reward." She finished with a wink.
Vole had to smile. "Well… I may hate to admit it, but I guess you're right. You always are – one way or another." He took a deep breath and then, in a low almost whispery voice, began his tale. "We did, indeed managed to apprehend Sir Henry's killer. It was the gardener by the way, though something tells me you already know that. It appears Sir Henry caught him stealing from the kitchen and fired him that day. Unable to take the shame of having to return to his family without a job, he tried to convince Sir Henry to take him back. Unable to convince him, he killed him in a moment of madness – with his bare hands, may I add. Afterwards, he tried to flee town but Inspector Clawes managed to apprehend him at the train station. How he figured it out it was him, I have no idea, but then again, he takes after you." This caused Basil to snort a bit, but she did not dare interrupt the inspector.
"What worries us though is what took place after we transported him to prison. Once in his cell, he started talking to himself. Nobody took any notice of that until the guard who was on duty informed us that the prisoner was claiming that someone was in the room with him and wished to kill him. Of course, the guard told him that he was placed in an isolated cell and that having someone in there with him was highly unlikely. That was when he demanded one of us to come up and talk to him. Annoyed beyond the limit, both Inspector Clawes and I went to talk to him – just to give him a piece of our mind. But when he got there… Mr. Basil, if I didn't know better I would have said that the man was possessed. Never in my life have I seen a creature so frightened. He started shouting – screaming that we had to do something. He said that we must protect the girls, if my memory serves. When Clawes asked what he was talking about, the man literally jumped at him. The guard and I barely managed to get him off of Clawes, and when we did, he just… "
Basil waited, and waited, but the inspector didn't continue. The chief of Scotland Yard looked old… and afraid.
"Inspector? What happened to the man?"
He did not answer at once, and Basil didn't push him. But after waiting for a response for almost three minutes Basil decided it was time to ask again. But just as she opened her mouth, Vole simply said: "He burned…"
Maybe she heard that wrong. "Excuse me, Inspector, but I do believe that I misunderstood you. Are you trying to say that he somehow set fire to himself? Or was it somebody else's doing?"
And when we tried to put the fire out…" He suddenly rose and started pacing the room to cool his head. It didn't really help much. "In all my years as a police officer Mr. Basil, I have never seen such a thing. There was nothing – absolutely nothing – that could have triggered such a thing. Both I and Inspector Clawes double checked everything that could have triggered a fire. We found nothing. And if he had something on him – which is even less likely – then I fail to understand what exactly that something could have been."
"That is why you asked me to bring you Lord Blackwood's files, because he too had used an apparently inexplicable fire to kill."
"Indeed, Mr. Basil. Only it seems our man didn't use the same method… I lied, Mr. Basil. My boys didn't lose his files. I have only hoped that your files contained something different. But it seems my hopes were in vain…" He started pacing again. "Mr. Basil… is it possible for someone to catch fire after he'd been searched from head to toe, disposed of his clothes, washed and scrubbed to the skin (well, after we saw what he did to his former master and considering all the odd cases we had in the last years we decided not to take any risks, sir) and at the moment of the… you know… there were no sparks, no candles or any other chemicals or other substances nearby and all in all nothing that could trigger something like that?"
Basil sat in her chair, lost in though. What the inspector was asking her, no matter what scenarios her mind could conjure, had only one answer, one which the inspector would most certainly not like to hear at the present time.
"I just know I'm going to be sent to Mauston… The superintendent is just dying for a chance to see me out of here and this is just perfect for him!"
"Inspector… Have you done an autopsy yet?" she asked hurriedly, hoping for the sake of the inspector that she could give him at least a bit of hope.
"Would if we could, but it so happens that there was nothing left of him to dissect."
"He was burned that bad?"
"Depends how you see that. After the flames died down there was simply nothing left of him. Even the bones burned… There was simply… nothing left"
Very well… now she could understand the reasons for the inspector's dark mood. She could just imagine what a stress this must be for the inspector, especially with a crowd of reporters standing watch at his door. If word got out, then his good name, as well as the name of the Metropolitan Police could be at risk.
"What is Inspector Clawes's opinion on the matter?"
"He has none. Last I saw him he was at a loss, as am I. He went to speak with the… victim's relatives. The incinerated one's, that is. Standard procedure and all that, you know. He should be back any- "
"Vole! You won't believe this! And what are all those people still doing out… there… Oh, good morning Mr. Basil!"
"… minute now."
Well… talk about synchronization! It's like they rehearsed that…
"Good morning, Inspector Clawes" said Basil, shaking the extended hand of the young inspector who had so 'gracefully' burst through the door. "Inspector Vole and I were just discussing the appearance of a few… setbacks concerning last night's victory over evil."
Inspector Clawes, a mouse who always took pride in his appearance, looked even more tired than even Inspector Vole. Despite his exhaustion however, he still managed to offer her a smile.
"Yes, nasty business it is. I do hope that this did not ruin your morning. It certainly had ruined ours."
"And something tells me that it is not just the morning, judging from your… charming appearances."
"I fear that you are right… As always."
Basil had never seen the two inspectors quite so out of it. She almost wanted to shake them both or at least slap them to see them get back to their senses. But at the same time, she found it hard to actually do so, for even if a small part of her brain was screaming at her to do something to get them out of depression, another part of her brain, the bigger part of it, was too busy processing all the data she had just received. How she wished she brought her pipe with her.
"Well, from what I heard, you two are facing quite a predicament at the moment. As a consulting detective, I am willing to offer you my assistance in the matter. This case has already sparked my interest so even if you would offer me no pay for my services I would still take no hesitation to – what was that expression you use Inspector? Oh yes! To 'stick my big nose into other people's bloody business'."
Clawes laughed full-heartedly at that. Vole chose to show his amusement in another fashion.
"Think you can do better than the police, don't you Mr. Bassu? Well, we will like to see you try. After all, if you do not succeed, then I will have the honor of labeling this case as 'the one that Bassu couldn't solve'. Even if I'll be replaced because of it, the thought will just make it all the more bearable."
"I thank you for your note of confidence, Inspector." She responded humorously.
"Quite. And for heaven's sake man, be more considerate with your language! What if there was a lady in the room?"
If only you knew, Inspector…
"Now, unless you have anything else for me, I shall be taking my leave. As eager as I am to inspect the scene of the crime, I must admit that I left my magnifying glass at home and –" She just managed to rise from her chair when a wave of dizziness washed over her. For a moment, her vision blackened and she could feel her legs giving up on her. She sat back down and massaged her temples, waiting for her vision to clear. She truly hated these days.
"Mr. Basil, are you quite alright?" At the mention of her name, Basil raised her head. It was clear that Inspector Clawes had been the one to ask her about her welfare. The younger inspector was always fussing over other people's health. But she did not expect to see the same worried expression written on Inspector Vole's features as well.
This was definitely the last time she was skipping breakfast.
"I'm perfectly fine gentlemen. I just got up too quickly, is all." Vole seemed to buy her story, yet for some reason, Clawes was not quite so eager to let it go. Honestly, the man was just as bad as Dawson!
"Are you sure, Mr. Basil?" he asked once she was on her feet and straightening her coat.
"Quite sure, Inspector Clawes. Now, if you two will excuse me, I shall be on my way. Oh, but do expect me to drop by later to inspect the cell. Until then, I bid you good morning!"
That being said, she put on her cap, walked towards the door… passed the door… opened the window… then jumped out?
"I swear… that mouse is going to drive me up the walls one day with his eccentrics." Vole muttered, shaking his head. "But one must admire his brains. I tell you Clawes, if that man would only have chosen a career with the Yard he could have been one of the best officers in the force by now, if he could only stick to traditional means. Still, I must admit that given the present situation climbing out the window may not be such a bad escape– Clawes, what are you doing?"
One leg sticking out the window, Clawes simply said: "I'm going to accompany Mr. Basil for a while if you wouldn't mind, Inspector. There's something I need to ask him."
"Something that can't wait till he gets back?"
"Precisely. Mr. Basil, wait for me!" And with that, he was off.
Inspector Vole stood for a long time simply staring at the open window, completely stunned. He was never going to understand youngsters.
Some time before that, on the other side of town a mouse was chewing tobacco in front of a bakery. Nothing out of the ordinary one would say, but then nobody was hearing his silent mutterings of "and then you'll let me go?" and "you promise?".
Yes… You have my word, young man. Do as I ask and I shall let you live.
Hearing voices – they say – is never a good sign. Listening to them however, was an even worse sign.
Here she comes…
The mouse looked up. Out of the bakery came a girl with vivid green eyes holding a basket of baguettes. Taking no notice of the other mouse, she started arranging them on the stand.
Now, do exactly what I told you, exactly as I told you.
Taking a deep breath, the mouse got to his feet, then took out a knife out of his pocket.
Not long after Basil and Clawes left, Inspector Vole was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Poor Vole ... it's hard not to feel sorry for him. But it seems Basil has knows how to handle desperate cases. Still, what did Clawes find? Will it shed some light into all this madness, or will it only make things more complicated then they already are?
For the answers to all your questions and more, we shall meet again in the next chapter!
Reviews always welcome and greatly appreciated!