A/N: Inspired by KCS' "All God's Little Creatures". This story has also turned into an AU of my series 'The Elizabeth Holmes Cases'. If anyone has any experience in writing a French/Cockney accent, your assistance will be most welcome in writing Inspector Lestrange's dialogue.
Disclaimer: Watson and Holmes are not mine, but the kitten is.
Chapter Seven: ...The Spanish Inquistion
Mrs. Hudson re-entered the sitting room at this point, the kitten in her arms--Holmes must have asked her to take care of Victoria while he was busy with finding Campbell's father's killer--, to inform us that "that rude Welsh constable" had returned.
"Is he alone?" Holmes asked.
"No, he is not. Inspector Lestrange is with him," our landlady replied.
"Send them both up then," Holmes directed.
Moments later, Inspector Pierre Lestrange entered the sitting room.
"Where is the constable who came with you, Inspector?" my friend asked, in lieu of a proper greeting.
"Oi zent 'im back ta Zcotland Yard," Lestrange replied in his strange accent--a cross between French and Cockney. "Did yew need 'im ztill, Monsieur 'Olmez?"
"No, I just wondered why he had not come up with you," Holmes replied dismissively.
"Argall told me tha' yew 'ad information fer me, Monsieur 'Olmez," Lestrange remarked impatiently.
"You are looking for the Spanish bride of an Englishman, Lestrange," Holmes replied. "You are looking for Daniela Zapados, or as she is know here in London, Mrs. Professor James Moriarty."
"Oi need rock zolid proof ta zupport yer claimz," Lestrange immediately pointed out.
"I have a witness, the young son of the victim," Holmes remarked indifferently.
"A child'z word will not ztand in court, Monsieur 'Olmez," Lestrange remarked, his voice tinged with a slight sorrow.
"A child's word will stand in court, Lestrange, when it is supported by the evidence I will provide," Holmes countered.
Holmes was forced to wait until morning to visit the site of the fire, and when he finally did go, I was left in charge of a groggy, injured Irregular and a grumpy, very much awake kitten--Mrs. Hudson needed to get some sleep herself, as well as take care of her usual chores.
I spent the entire morning alternating between taking care of Victoria and tending to Campbell. By the time Holmes returned shortly after noon, I was exhausted, and in quite a bit of pain--my leg and shoulder did not appreciate being abused so badly.
"Watson, sit," my friend commanded upon entering the sitting room and seeing me.
"I need to get this pitcher of water refilled so that I can finish cleaning Campbell's wrist," I objected.
"I can do that, Watson," Holmes insisted, taking the heavy pitcher from me. "Sit."
His tone brook no arguement, so I obeintly sat down in my armchair by the fire.
"When I come back, you'd better still be in that chair, Watson," he warned me before heading back out of the room to refill the pitcher for me.
