Chapter 11: Chase
Not long after Alice had sat down with Mrs. Hudson for tea, the door had opened and someone had gone up the stairs. Alice smiled, John Watson had returned, he wasn't afraid, he maybe even liked the danger that her father put him in, him being an army doctor. She smiled while cleaning the final cup and put it in the cupboard.
'And what about you dear? Now that your father has gone of and found himself somebody to share his life with, what are you going to do?'
Alice looked up at Mrs. Hudson, who was cleaning the sink. Alice dried her own hands in the table cloth and shrugged her shoulders.
'I don't know actually, I mean, it's not like I have that much to do.'
She smiled, but then she thought of something. Maybe she could do something, learn something new. The past months she had often helped and watched her father perform all those experiments, and it had sparked her interest. She wanted to learn more, more than was in her father's books, something else than just chemical experiments. She wanted to help people, save them, but not become a police officer.
'I might start a study in medicine.'
She had just mumbled her thoughts, but Mrs. Hudson had heard it.
'Medicine? But my dear, you are only 15, you can't just enrol in university to study medicine at 15. Do you even own any other diploma?'
Alice looked at Mrs. Hudson and shook her head. She didn't have a diploma, she had dropped out. But she would be able to convince those people at a university to take her. She could study something that would actually interest her, and if it was going to slow, she could take multiple courses at the same time, causing her to finish earlier than any other student. She started to smile, happy with what she had just thought out for herself. But then Mrs. Hudson burst her bubble.
'You know that if you become a doctor, you will have to communicate with people dear? You do have patients.'
Alice stared blankly at Mrs. Hudson. She hadn't thought that through properly yet, that was the next part. Talking to people would never be her strong suit and she avoided it as much as she could. She didn't even think about improving on it, she didn't care about it enough. But Mrs. Hudson was right, wasn't she? No she wasn't. Alice started to grin.
'Not if I become a surgeon. I'll have to communicate with other doctors, but I can put myself through that. And they can do the talking to the patients.'
She grinned and put the table cloth down, satisfied. She would apply to one of the universities in London. She wasn't going to move away from her father and Mrs. Hudson any time soon, her study would have to fit into the life she had here, and it would no matter what.
Suddenly, Alice and Mrs. Hudson heard footsteps on the stairs and soon after that the front door slamming shut. Mrs. Hudson looked at the door, and so did Alice. She had heard two pairs of feet, and a cane. Her father still had some sense in his deductive brain and he had figured out that he needed John Watson, one way or another, this man was a keeper. She turned back to Mrs. Hudson.
'Do you mind if I start baking pies already for tomorrow?'
Mrs. Hudson pulled her eyes away from the door, wondering where the boys were going this late in the evening and stared at Alice for a while, trying to remember what the girl had said. Then she smiled and nodded.
'Of course dear.'
When Alice turned around, her eyes caught something large standing in a corner, half-hidden behind the curtain.
'Mrs. Hudson? What is that?'
Mrs. Hudson turned around again, she had been cleaning the workbench, and gave a short, somewhat nervous laugh.
'Oh that dear, don't worry about it. It is the rifle I own to keep housebreakers away. It used to be my husbands, but I know how it works. '
Alice looked at Mrs. Hudson with large eyes. Her landlady, and it had taken her, Alice Holmes, month to realise that there was a rifle standing in the corner of the room! Mrs. Hudson just continued talking, explaining the works of the rifle in immaculate detail as if she was given her recipe for pot pie to Alice, who continued to stare at her. She even showed Alice the bullets, which were in a drawer in the workbench.
Then she suddenly fell quiet.
'Oh my, did I just tell you all that?'
Alice smiled and nodded.
'Don't worry Mrs. Hudson, it's alright.'
Mrs. Hudson, still a bit stunned, turned back to the workbench to clean it even more. Alice glanced at the rifle one last time and then turned to the door that would lead to a hallway with doors to both her little studio and Speedy's. She grabbed her phone and headphones from the table in her studio and plugged them in as she opened the door to the lunchroom. With 'Ridin' Solo' on replay she grabbed the things she needed and started making three pies at the same time. Singing loudly she didn't notice the cars stopping in front of 221 Baker Street and a group of people going out and into 221B. With her back turned to the door, she mixed the final ingredients together and dropped them in the moulds. She walked to the oven and turned the temperature higher.
She couldn't help but dance a little bit through the kitchen, not caring if anyone saw her. Music was her life and if she wasn't playing it herself, she played her playlists. She would do it to if she was alone in her own studio, when she was thinking, or now, when she was doing something else.
With all the pies in the oven she walked to the front of the store and put all the chairs on the tables, before she grabbed a broom to clean the floors of the biggest pieces of dirt before opening tomorrow. She had no idea how much time had past when she caught the cab pulling over at 221B Baker Street and a cabbie coming out. Who had ordered that cab? The cabbie made his way to the door and ring the doorbell. He waited, then rung again.
Alice took out her headphones and observed the cabbie from the shadows, still holding the broom in her hands. She tiptoed to the door and listened carefully as the door was opened.
'Taxi for Mr. Sherlock Holmes.'
Taxi for Sherlock Holmes? Her father never ordered a taxi, ever, why now? Why?
No...
Alice waited for a moment as the cabbie remained outside. He looked around if someone else was watching him and Alice shot back a little more. This must be him, THE cabbie. Her father would never order a taxi so this must be a set-up, a set-up by a serial killer. Slowly she backed away and put the broom back in its place, without making any noise. Then she turned back to the cabbie, who was now gone. The cab was still there, and he wasn't sitting in it. He must have gone inside. Alice stared at the cab for a moment, but then she knew what to do.
Take the rifle.
She didn't know exactly why the thought had popped into her head, but it seemed so logical. She rushed back to the hallway and into Mrs. Hudson's kitchen. For a moment she stood perfectly still, expecting Mrs. Hudson to come in any minute, but she didn't. With her eyes often glancing at the door, Alice made her way to the curtains, pushed them away and revealed the black, modern rifle, partially packed in large bag.
She grinned, zipped up the bag and took the rifle. She went to the workbench, opened the drawer and took out the bullets when she heard footsteps on the stairs in the hall. She turned her head up, but then quickly made her way back to Speedy's, she rifle on her back, the bullets in her pocket. She took her keys out of her back pocket and went back to Speedy's. She saw the cabbie, talking to her father. Why did he come out here, alone? They were talking, her father near the door, because she could only hear his voice, the cabbie leaning against his cab. Then her father appeared, the talking continued. With held breath she watched the cabbie walk around his cab and get in. Her father stepped even closer and leaned in to talk with him through the window.
Don't get in dad, she thought, don't do it. He'll kill you, like he killed all the others. With her eyes fixed on her father, she watched him stand up straight, look up and down Baker Street, then back at the cab. Then he took the door handle and got into the backseat.
'Shit!'
Without thinking properly, Alice took out her keys, opened the door of Speedy's and got out. She followed the cab as he drove away. Then she noticed another cab coming down Baker Street, she lifted her hand and waved. The cab turned and stopped next to her. With some difficulty, since the rifle was still strapped to her back, Alice got in and said loudly, partially out of breath:
'Follow the cab you just passed, now!'
The cabbie looked at her with big eyes, startled by her resolute voice and the bag that she had dragged into his cab, which could be anything from golf clubs to a rifle. Alice rolled her eyes and slammed the door shut.
'I said, NOW!'
The cabbie turned back and started the pursuit. Alice sat in the middle seat, so she could look out of the front window at the cabbie that she was tracking. It was somewhat of a miracle that she had actually found the right cab again, but she was sure of it. Adrenaline was rushing through her veins as they stayed behind the cab. Sometimes she would slow her cab down to avoid suspicion, but most of the time, they were immediately behind the cab where Alice saw her father sitting in the back seat.
Then he suddenly turned around and looked straight at Alice, who was leaning forward, holding the head supporters on both the front seats. Their eyes met and in that split second Alice knew that her father was aware of her presence and that he at least had someone who was with him. He turned back and didn't look back again anymore. Alice gave the cabbie his instructions obediently. Alice looked at him and noticed that the cabbie himself wasn't that old. When he saw her looking, he smiled.
'What are you looking at?'
Alice felt busted and immediately looked straight ahead again, she wasn't going to talk to this guy, she didn't know him, and besides, what could she say?
'So, who's in the cab, your boyfriend?'
Alice eyed the guy, he wanted to start a conversation while he was chasing another cab? But eventually she did open her mouth and muttered a soft answer.
'My father.'
The guy eyed her as well, he didn't even realise how young this girl was, she must have been around 16.
'Why are you chasing him?'
Alice kept on looking straight ahead, her eyes glued to the backlights of the cab with Sherlock and the serial killer cabbie.
'He's in danger, speed up will you?'
The cabbie's eyes grew bigger as he tried to pay attention to the road, he stepped on the gas to just catch the orange light and then slowed down to let one car between him and the cab he was chasing.
'What do you mean danger?'
Alice sighed.
'No matter, just pay attention to the road OK? This is my thing.'
The guy nodded and kept on driving, suddenly the cab turned right towards a building where barely any lights were lit. The cabbie looked in, Alice followed his look and both of them watched the cab stop and the cabbie get out.
'Drive around the block and stop again here.'
The cabbie nodded, his eyes still on the cab in front of the building. He drove around the block and then entered the parking lot.
'This is Robert Kerr Further Education College, what a long route to take him there, we made like three turns around it. Is your father a teacher?'
Alice kept on looking at the building, she saw something move, but she wasn't sure whether it was the cleaners or her father. Maybe she was already to late. Shit. She grabbed the change she had gotten from the cabbie a few hours earlier and looked at the price for her drive. But when she wanted to hand the guy his cash, he shook his head.
'No no, this one's on me. This was the most interesting drive of my day. And I'm almost off duty anyhow. If you want, I could wait for you, take you back home, if your father isn't in danger anymore?'
Alice looked at the guy for a moment. What the hell was he thinking? Did he think she would actually trust him. But then she looked properly. Young man, about 20 years old, soldier in training, so this must be a weekend job for him. Not from the best neighbourhood, which was probably why he needed a weekend job in the first place, to pay for his training. No addictions. Steady shooting hand. Proper driver. Single. Still living at home with his mum and little sister. No malicious intent whatsoever, just a kind offer. She looked back at the guy, who was still waiting for an answer.
'If you could, please. But I don't know how long it is going to take.'
The guy smiled and shook his head.
'No worries, I'll park my cab around the corner and I'll wait. If you can get home with your father that's also fine. Just give me a call then.'
He looked about for a while and then took out a little notebook. He ripped out a piece and took out a pen. He scribbled something down and handed it to Alice. She smiled a little awkwardly, but then she focused on the building again and grabbed the bag with the rifle tighter. She pushed the door open and climbed out. Without saying another word she rushed inside. Now she had to take a gamble, which way had her father and the cabbie gone? She took a quick glance at the note in her hand before she pushed it deep in her pocket with the change. Stephen Bainbridge, cab number 22167. With her hand wrapped tight around the strap of the bag, she opened a door and started running. She had to find Sherlock, and quickly.