On second thought having now told my dream to Holmes and Watson I feel like a mad person. Why could that dream from all others define the reason why I'm here and probably show how I got here? Maybe in my subconscience I am still getting over this sort of shock and thus the dream. What if all this is only a dream? But if it is than how can I faint within a dream?
"Rest assured Miss Wanett, the dream you've just explained reveals many important clues and thus searching for the right facts. The last thing you need now is self-doubt." Holme's pale green eyes pierced into my mind. I looked down at my hands, they were balled to fists with white knuckles.
"Holmes!" Barked Watson nerved with narrowed eyebrows and frowning mouth while looking at him.
"Watson?" Remarked Holmes calmly while puffing at his pipe and facing him.
"Why would she have self-doubt? She isn't doubting anything." Noted Watson.
A broad grin curved Holmes' thin lips. Watson rolled his eyes, looked away with crossed arms. "I've overseen it, again." He mumbled loud enough.
Suddenly the door knocked. We all turned to the door with eager curiousity. Mrs. Hudson's face peared from behind the door. "Sorry to interrupt you-"
"Mrs. Hudson! You know exactly how the situation should be handled when I'm with a client!" Barked Holmes in an unexpected bewilderment. "Not to be disturbed at any cost!" He paced to her and was about to push her out. "But there's a gentleman downstairs wanting to see Miss Wanett!"
Holmes froze. I blinked and looked to Watson, he was looking at me with a questionable gaze. Quickly I looked back to Holmes.
He was staring intensively down in his hands at the card that Mrs. Hudson handed. Without another word he handed the card to me. Watson looked over my shoulder to read along. "Show him up." Gave Holmes in a soft tone to Mrs. Hudson.
"Who is that gentleman?" Wondered Watson. Before Holmes or I could explain the man stood by the door removing his hat.
Staring wide eyed at me. For a brief moment he gave a warming smile but it soon vanished and looked at Holmes and Watson. He wore a befitting dark tweed suit with a bowler. He still had his usual short hair cut to the ears in his natural dark chestnut brown, large dark eyes and clean-shaved yaw and upper lip. "I was hoping to find with your help Miss Wanett but it appears she found you."
"Pray, take a seat and tell us everything you know." Gestured Holmes to an empty seat while walking to his favorite chair. Watson seated on the other end of the sofa from where I sat. It does my heart glad to see a familiar old face, my boss, Charles Antoine Nestle.
Charles took a deep breath while bitting his lower lip. I presume gathering the right words how to explain. He looked at me for a moment and then looked at the others. Holmes puffed at his pipe and Watson had his note book ready to take notes like a journalist. "Actually I was prepared to discuss of Miss Wanett's situation but it seems you all know now about the same as she does." He paused. "I never thought he would be able to do something like this. A time portal. All this time I never took him serious about it and sadly Miss Wanett is now pulled into this. Casted by him with some mind blockage that he can control, easily noted as amnesia."
"Then Miss Wanett has been a very resourceful woman, her dreams, her subconscience, revealed many important facts for us to enable to follow." Spoke Watson.
Charles blinked at me surprised. "How's that possible?"
I shrugged my shoulders. I wonder myself that too. "I don't know. Maybe the inventor oversaw a flaw that makes this possible."
"An interesting thought Miss Wanett but I must wonder, what is the reason if the inventor did this to Miss Wanett?" Holmes folded his hands together under his chin.
"All in all the inventor sees this as a game." Noted Charles. Suddely he blinked and his eyebrows were narrowed in thought. "I remember, he did show in an uncomfortable manner interest in Miss Wanett. Perhaps that has an influence."
"Not perhaps. It is a fact. The inventor does, Mr. Nestle." Assured Holmes calmly.
"Then this means we're not facing some mad inventor! He is madness itself!" Called Charles concerned with widened eyes.
We all grinned at him. Knowing clearly what he meant.
"Well, I mean when in love." He paused and looked me with flushed cheeks.
I blinked at him surprised. I knew he respected and treated me well as a secretary but this far has never crossed my mind. He always was escourted by pretty ladies for lunch mostly and at times for dinner when business calls. Sometimes we did have short chats over certain business opinions and once or twice over private matters but love never came to mention in anyway.
"Mr. Nestle, tell us about the inventor." Asked Watson.
"An excellent question, Watson. Pray tell." Noted Holmes.
Charles took a deep breath while kneading his hands. "All I know is his name is François. I met him unexpected one evening at a bar. The booze was talking instead of my clear conscience. Began to blabber about my childhood dream for no reason, wanting to timetravel with a time-machine. Suddenly he was there, with a broad smile on his face, sitting next to me. He listened to every word I said and explained that he can manage that some time soon. I didn't take him serious so I laughed." He paused and looked down at his hands before looking back to me, Holmes and Watson. "Few days later he came to my office and mentioned about the other night what I said and what he noted. I laughed and explained that he has stepped into the wrong office. Since then he would not leave me alone, so convinced and determined that it is possible. Then out of thin air he stopped trying to convince me and finally left me in peace until few days ago he, somehow managed to, sneak into my office and dragged me out in the most casual manner to his laboratory. You would think the lab is outside the building but it was all this time down in the cellar. François is a respected electricioner in my company."
I held my breath. Seeing a clearer picture of the whole situation. "Do you know where he is now, in London?"
"I wish I knew." Charles shrugged his shoulders with open hands.