Thanks for the reviews. I know it's been a while, but Hart & Holmes takes priority. xp Not to mention real life. (I have a life? Oh yeah, I forgot...)
Big Game
The Blind Baboon part 4
All was dark and still. Soo Lin crept out of her hiding place and dropped silently to the floor of the cave. The scent of visitors was still heavy in the air. Quickly and quietly, she padded over to her exhibit and turned the artifacts over, checking them for damage.
Suddenly, something made her look toward the back of the cave and she nearly squealed when she saw the glowing eyes of a cheetah looking at her.
"Shh," Sherlock said softly. "We won't harm you."
John lit a lamp in the corner and brought it closer. "We wanted to have a word about the cypher someone left here..."
Seeing that the two spotted cats did not seem at all threatening, Soo Lin relaxed and sat on the floor. "The cypher means that he is coming to kill me."
"Why didn't you leave?" John asked.
"It doesn't matter where I go; he will find me. I wanted to stay here, to watch over these things."
"Who is he?" asked Sherlock. "Have you met him in person?"
"Ji Joo," Soo Lin said sadly. "We were orphans with no livelihood. We were forced to join the association of Asian cats known as the Black Lotus under a General Shan." She lifted a paw and they could just make out a flower tattoo on the dark primary pad.
"This Ji Joo fellow is your brother?" John asked incredulously.
"I ran away from the life of a smuggler and now he believes I have betrayed him. He will kill me."
Sherlock pushed John's sketch toward her. "Do you know how to decode this cypher?"
"These are numbers," she said.
"Yes, I know. But how do you decode it?"
"It's a code all the smugglers use. Based on the book—"
The lamp flickered in an air current and Soo Lin froze. She sniffed the air fearfully. "He's here," she whispered.
Sherlock sprang away toward the middle of the cave.
"Sherlock, no..." John tried, but it was too late.
Sherlock heard something whirring through the air and ducked, barely in time. He scurried behind a statue and peeked out. "That's very impressive," he said. "I've never seen a cat so accomplished with nunchucks. As you're so skilled, you will be careful not to damage any of these artifacts, won't you?"
He thought he heard a rustling as someone moved away. Carefully, he came out of hiding, listening intently. He took a few steps, then started trotting toward the back of the cave again.
John ran into him head-on. "Oh... Sherlock—"
Sherlock put a paw over John's mouth. They heard a dull noise from the back of the cave.
"Oh no," John whispered as Sherlock bounded away again.
Soo Lin was lying on the oriental rug, eyes vacantly reflecting the low lamplight.
Frustrated by Dimmock's lack of cooperation, John asked, "How many murders will it take before you admit that these maniacs are out there? An Asiatic cat was garroted with a nunchucks chain tonight. That's three in three days. You're supposed to be finding him."
Sherlock took over. "Lucas and Van Coon were operating for a gang of smugglers called the Black Lotus. Operating in this area, involved in the new bank, all up in your jurisdiction and you haven't taken any notice of them."
"Can you prove that?" Dimmock challenged.
Sherlock knew he couldn't prove it—yet. He wasted no time in getting to the Leonine hospital and confronting Molly.
"Hello, Molly," he said cheerfully. "Lunch break?"
Molly looked up from the gazelle leg she'd been about to feast on. "Oh, yes... are you hungry?"
"I'm on a case; digestion interferes with deduction. I'm just here to have a look at Lucas and Van Coon."
"Oh... I'm in charge of them."
Sherlock smiled in innocent surprise. "Really?"
"Their... their paperwork has already gone through..."
Sherlock suddenly focused on Molly's left ear. "You're wearing a flower today," he said.
"Oh. Yeah... it's an orchid."
"It suits you. You should wear one more often."
His flattery worked quickly, and soon Molly allowed him and Inspector Dimmock to see the corpses.
"Something I didn't know to look for before," Sherlock said, lifting the paw of the hyena and showing the tattoo to Dimmock. He went to the wild dog's body and lifted his paw, too. If they hadn't been looking for it, the tattoo would probably have gone unnoticed.
"So," Sherlock concluded, "either these two just so happened to go to the same tattoo artist and get the same lotus flower tattooed on them, or I'm right, and you'd better start listening."
Dimmock sighed. "What do you want?"
"Books. Any book any of the victims had in their possession."
"Books?" Dimmock looked very skeptical, but he wasn't in a good position to argue.
While waiting for Dimmock to deliver the books, Sherlock and John visited the Yardland Auction House, a place where anything could be bought and sold, but careful records were required to be turned in to the lions so they could share in the profits. Sherlock got permission to look over the record books, since he finally had the Yard's approval.
He and John poured over the records, noting the days that unusual Chinese items had been sold.
"These dates correspond to Lucas and Van Coon's traveling dates," Sherlock said excitedly. "But somewhere along the line, someone got greedy and stole one of the items..."
"Will he sell it at auction here?"
Sherlock shook his head. "If he's still alive he's probably waiting until he thinks it's safe. He'll have put the item somewhere for safekeeping."
The two of them headed back to Bushbuck Row and were greeted by Mrs. Hudson.
"Are you taking a correspondence course or something, Sherlock?" She asked.
Sherlock frowned. "Correspondence? What are you talking about?"
"Well, a young lion came by with a couple boxes of books... And then there were some notes he said they got at a museum..."
Sherlock's frown instantly turned to a smile and he bounded into the cave. "The cypher we showed to Soo Lin. Come on, John."
When John got inside he found that Sherlock had already torn open one of the boxes. "I'll take Lucas; you take Van Coon. The numbers are always in pairs, so let's start with fifteen-one: Turn to page fifteen and look at the first word on the page."
Most animals of the day did not keep many books; in fact, the majority could not read. Lucas and Van Coon kept more books than most, but even so the boxes were not full. Using the pairs of numbers, John and Sherlock tried to find any interpretation that could possibly form a threatening message, but there did not seem to be any such thing.
Mrs. Hudson retired to sleep soon after they began, and John longed to do the same. The letters and numbers swam before his eyes. Suddenly, with a jolt he realized that the light of dawn had crept over the threshold.
"Oh... oh, no. Sherlock, I've got to get to the clinic."
"Right," Sherlock said, not looking up. "Good."
John stretched his weary limbs, splashed his face with water from the pool and scampered out of the cave.
But going to the clinic turned out to be disastrous. He could scarcely keep his eyes open long enough to see one patient. When Sarah came to check on him late in the day, he realized he had fallen completely into a deep sleep.
"What time is it?" He stammered. "Have I got patients waiting?"
"Er, no..." said Sarah. "I saw a couple of yours."
"A couple?"
"Well... all of them."
John grimaced. "I'm sorry. I was up all night..."
"Doing what? If I may ask."
"A sort of a book... thing."
"Your girl friend's into books?"
"N-no, it wasn't a date."
"Good," Sarah said immediately. Then, "I... I mean, um..."
"And I don't have one tonight," John added, seizing this strange opportunity.
When he got home, Sherlock had begun a new line of investigation.
"Maybe the book wasn't one they kept around all the time, but it was one they could find easily. One that's very common."
"Not many of those in the animal world," John said, absentmindedly. "If you're right, that should narrow the field."
"Yes; we're going out tonight. Get some air. Look at new angles—"
"Actually, I've got a date," John said smugly.
"What?" Sherlock looked almost appalled.
"You know—where a couple of creatures who like each other go out and have fun..."
"That's what I was suggesting."
"No, it isn't," John said, smug look still in place. "At least, I hope not."
"And where were you going to take her?"
"Egret theater's got a new play on."
"Dull. Predictable. Try this." Sherlock shoved a pamphlet toward John. "In town for one night only."
"A circus?" John chuckled. "I don't come to you for dating advice," he declared. He was feeling immensely better than he had when he left that morning.
Still, somehow, as darkness fell, John found himself leading the other ocelot down toward the marsh rather than up into the hills.
"I haven't seen a circus since I came over from the Amazon," Sarah said excitedly. "What sort of circus is it?"
"Um... dunno really," John admitted. "My friend suggested it. He wired for the tickets."
Soon they saw Chinese lanterns glowing in the distance, guiding them toward a white tent set up on the plain.
"Holmes," John told the beech marten collecting tickets.
"I have three tickets in that name."
"We only ordered two," John said, puzzled.
"Well, then I sent another wire to get myself a ticket," said Sherlock, coming up out of the darkness like the predator he was.
John felt his good spirits sinking.
"I'm Sherlock," Sherlock said, smiling at Sarah.
No, no, no, John thought angrily. I will kill you. As soon as he got the chance when Sarah wouldn't hear, he said "What are you doing here? Can't you let me have a night off?"
"A Chinese circus, John! In town for one night only; it's a great cover, don't you think? It gives the assassin an excuse to travel from China..."
"Well, I don't need an excuse to assassinate you! I'll take Sarah somewhere else."
"But I need you," Sherlock said, sounding completely unable to understand John's reaction.
"I have other things on my mind right now, okay?"
"What could be more important than this?"
John's round eyes widened. "Seriously?" he squeaked. "You want me to chase some killer around when I could be bonding with Sarah...?"
Unfortunately it was just then that Sarah rejoined them.
"Heeeeey," John said, dying on the inside and grinning foolishly on the outside. "Ready?"
"Yeah."
Inside the tent, the audience was small. There were no cushions to sit on, so they stood around the edge of a ring of candles where an Asian golden cat in a ridiculous headdress was displaying a feathered arrow. She fitted it into a mounted crossbow that looked far too large for her. She then plucked a feather from the headdress and dropped it into a shallow metal bowl and the arrow shot forward to lodge in a thick slab of wood.
The audience clapped hesitantly.
"This is such a small act," John mused, wondering if Sarah was going to be bored or annoyed. "This is really... weird."
"This isn't their day job," Sherlock whispered.
John rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause really they're a band of smugglers. Shut up, Sherlock."
The marten from the ticket booth retrieved the arrow and took it back to the ring mistress while more masked golden cats came out into the ring. Two of them began strapping a third to the wood slab.
"It's a feat in escapology—classic Chinese circus act," Sherlock said so both John and Sarah could hear. "The warrior had to escape before the weight releases the arrow."
The audience had fallen completely silent. When the sandbag acting as a counterweight was torn and the weight began to lower, they could hear the warrior grunting as he struggled to escape. Sarah hid her face in John's chest and he cheerfully nuzzled her in comfort.
The golden cat warrior made his escape just in time, the arrow sticking in the board where he hand been tied just a fraction of a second before. Sarah laughed in relief and cheered with the other spectators. John looked around to see Sherlock's reaction, but the cheetah was nowhere to be seen.
"And now, for your pleasure," the ring mistress announced, "I present the Chinese Bird Spider!"
"Oh, I hate spiders," Sarah whispered. But as the giant tarantula made its way down a thin ribbon of silk, even she could not take her eyes off it.
The spider spun and swung and cavorted up and down. The show was going beautifully when out from behind a curtain tumbled the golden cat warrior and none other than Sherlock. John rushed forward to help his friend, and while the spider made a hasty getaway through the top of the tent, Sarah found a large stick to swing at Sherlock's attacker. He fell to the ground and Sherlock got a good look at the mark on the underside of his paw.
"Come on," Sherlock told the others when they could make a clean getaway. They rushed from the tent and away from the marshland.
Sherlock led them straight to the Yard to report the incident, but by the time the pride cadets arrived, the circus troupe was gone. Even the tent had been disassembled and dragged away. Inspector Dimmock was not pleased at sending out a raiding party and having nothing to show for it.
"They'll be on their way back to China by morning," Sherlock complained as they arrived back at Bushbuck Row. "I saw the yellow clay there, though. In the back of the tent. And the tattoo. There's no mistake. We have to find their rendezvous point before they're gone for good."
Sarah cleared her throat. "S'pose I ought to be going."
"Yes, I think that would be best," Sherlock said at the same time that John said, "No, you don't have to go."
John glared at Sherlock. "He's... kidding, of course."
Sarah tried again. "Anyone else starving?"
"Oh, god..." Sherlock muttered.
While Sarah made an effort to get acquainted with Sherlock and his work, John tried in vain to find any presentable food scraps in their half of the cave. He was about to give up when Mrs. Hudson surprised him with a little rolling tray.
"Got some punch and bowl of minnows," she whispered. "Did some swapping in market today. It's not much..."
"Mrs. Hudson, you dear," John said gratefully. "I'll pay you back tomorrow."
But they'd barely begun nibbling at the treat when Sarah made a discovery. "So the numbers are a cypher..."
"Exactly," Sherlock said with thinly veiled annoyance.
"And each pair of numbers is a word."
Sherlock froze. "How did you know that?"
"Two words are already translated here..." Sarah indicated John's graffiti sketch.
"John," Sherlock said excitedly, "Soo Lin started translating the code! Nine... mill. Nine million quid? For what? The code has to be in a book she had at the museum! Come on, we've got to go."
John knew that Sherlock would never relax at this point, so he didn't argue. On the other hand, he made no move to leave the cave when Sherlock rushed out.
"Well, that was quite an exciting date," Sarah said, smiling. "I'm always up for rough-and-tumble with a few oriental thugs. But it could be too much of a good thing."
John laughed nervously and tried to push away the thought that as long as he lived with Sherlock, dating would be a nightmare. "Er... maybe we should get something on Sherlock's tag...?"
"Yeah," Sarah agreed.
We'll have a real meal, we'll relax, things'll be normal, John told himself. He sent a message over the telegraph. So glad I had them put this thing in. Being able to order by Morse code was such a convenience.
"Looks like your Morse came in handy after all," Sarah teased.
"Yeah, guess so."
They sipped punch and waited until someone called outside the cave mouth.
John eagerly went to retrieve their food. Outside the cave was a cat somewhat more solidly built than himself. It was cloaked in spite of the warm night.
"Sorry to keep you waiting..."
"Do you have it?" the cat demanded in a foreign-sounding voice.
"What?"
"Do you have the treasure?"
"Sorry, I don't understand."
Neither did John understand when the visitor clubbed him over the head.
There you are, a little kitty plot-progression. The next one will give you an update on what Jim's up to. xD