Chapter 11: Final Decisions
A dense fog had rolled through the early morning hours as Basil and I hopped off the last cab outside Ms Laveaux's shelter. It was four thirty according to my watch and, by that point, I was not sure whether I wanted to eat or sleep. While Basil's gash needed tending to, he first sat down on a cot to write out a letter to someone. I turned my back for a brief moment when I felt a swift movement from behind. Basil had quickly left to post it at the nearest letterbox. He returned no later than ten minutes and carefully began to remove his blood-soaked coat, sucking in a breath at the painful movement. I had seen battle wounds enough to last me a lifetime. Many of who received such wounds was soldiers I never received a first or last name. It often was an assembly line to dress cuts, bruises, burns, and even body parts that were literally hanging by a thread. Yes, I had seen a lot of blood in my time as a surgeon, and it was no different with Basil's wounded arm. However, what made me feel sympathetic was that it was someone I knew, befriended, and deeply cared for. He may not have been a soldier serving his country, but being a private consulting detective deserved just as much commendation. The stubborn mouse was also too modest when I offered to assist him with his wound.
"Would you like me to help you-"
"Not at all, Dawson," Basil said, waving a hand and turning away from me. "I will, however, need the sewing items from your knapsack, please."
"Right away, Basil. It's very fortunate I have enough suture material left over," I said, eyeing the dreadful gash. Basil took no time in cleaning the wound and sewing up his own arm. I could no longer hold in the curiosity and blurted out, "Who was that letter for?"
"For Ms Rosenberg," Basil reached over to snatch up my pair of scissors. "I gave her a brief update on our progress and that her assistance will be much needed... with a particular object." He caught my eyes widening and waved nonchalantly with his free hand. "Don't worry, old chap, I've learned to spare many details should a letter never reached its proper destination. Besides, she does not need to know two lives perished in a volcanic cavern while I took another life by throwing a dagger directly into the back of a voodoo priestess."
"I should say not." I shook my head. "By the way, where did you get that dagger?"
"Simple, Dawson. I wished for it," Basil grinned. I squinted to those words. Without him explaining, I had to remind myself the room we were in had a small assortment of weapons. Ms Wicks chose her large weapon while Basil placed a smaller one into his coat pocket. My friend added with a chuckle, "It would seem my many years of playing darts have certainly paid off." I nodded quietly, my mind once again seeing the vision of the two women falling to their deaths. It was no surprise that I would have nightmares of that scene playing repeatedly in my head. My silence, along with my expression, piqued my friend's attention. "You're thinking about it again I see."
"Oh, I cannot help it, Basil! Those poor girls!" I heard him sigh and end it with a groan. "I still cannot get over the fact that-"
"Well, get over it," his voice snapped unexpectedly. I blinked and turned to see him staring downward and sewing up his own arm. He briefly looked my way with a clearing of his throat. "Forgive my brashness, but you are no help to me when your thoughts continue to linger in the past. They are gone, Dawson. We tried to save them and we failed."
"Are you not the least bit upset?"
There was a long pause before he spoke. "I do have very deep regrets, and I will for the rest of my life," he nodded assuredly. "However, what good am I to anyone if I keep fretting over my errors? Yes, I am upset, and rightfully so, but let me remind you that this is not the first time someone has died on my watch. I have solved cases, but lost lives in the process and there is nothing I can do to change what's happened. Do you understand?"
"Of course I do, Basil," I also nodded. "I will never forget this case, not for a very long time, and I am certain to have terrible nightmares no thanks to that evil witch of a toymaker."
"Which one?" Basil quietly asked in mild interest. "Ms Mosenthal or Ms Wicks?"
"Er, both, I suppose," I shrugged, looking towards him. "I would not doubt your nights were often restless from past adventures." Basil said nothing and continued mending his arm. "No, I have nightmares of my own from all that I have seen in my military days. And I must admit, after shaking your hand, I've now been introduced to hardened criminals, vile murders, evil schemes, and yes, even the supernatural. That certainly can all be added to the list of frightful images."
"Welcome to my world, doctor," Basil finally said, lifting up a minimal smirk. With another nod, I felt my stomach rumble with hunger. I had hoped he did not hear it, but nothing could escape this mouse. "I am almost done here, but perhaps you should go on ahead and help yourself to some food?" I looked to him again with a reddened face that showed some embarrassment. He only continued to grin. "Go on, old chap, I know you have not eaten for several hours and are withering away from severe starvation."
"Well, I would not say severe starvation…however, I should step out for a small bite…before I eat this…" I slowly gestured to my hat, catching his smirk lifting higher.
"Hmm, I don't know, Dawson. You should pour some marmalade on it first…might help flavor it a little." Hearing me scoff, Basil chuckled harder. "Oh, get a move on for goodness sakes!"
oooooooooo
Later that day, Basil and I got on the next train bound for London. I was more than ready to end this case and return home to my own room and Mrs. Judson's delicious meals. Lifting the curse from the voodoo doll was something I wish I could have witnessed, but was not permitted to. Basil and Ms Rosenberg sat in a back room of her apothecary shop with the cursed tool itself while I stayed in the front area. After an hour had passed, I looked up to see Ms Rosenberg slowly approaching me with the doll in hand. I watched her sit down and hold it as if it were a small infant.
"Well? Has the curse been lifted?" I asked.
"I have cleansed the doll accordingly, Dr. Dawson," Ms Rosenberg said slowly. "However, the spirit is still the same and could easily turn evil again, but when Basil explained who will have ownership of this doll, a little girl, I am sure the spirit will remain dormant inside." Pausing, she looked to the doll, then up at me. "I am so sorry for what has happened to the two girls. I know he did all that he could to save them. Madeline was such a dear and the child, oh, she was so precious." Sniffing, she added, "Their deaths made it even more difficult for Mr. Basil to concentrate with me. He may not show it on the outside, but his failure to save them is hurting him greatly on the inside."
"I, too, am not handling their deaths too well," I replied solemnly. "This may sound odd, but I seem to have developed a strong attachment to both girls, to Natalie the most. The attachment, I...I felt as though they were family members of mine, two young, beautiful daughters. Is that a normal feeling?"
"It is when it comes from two individuals that possess such strong levels of positive energy." Ms Rosenberg stood up again and continued to gaze at the doll. "Little Natalie was a child of pure good; she loved everyone she came in contact with, even those that did not deserve it. Madeline was a healer and wanted to help in any way that she could. When both girls entered your life, their essences attached to yours and Basil's souls. That is why you feel the way you do for their losses. They were not average mice. They had special gifts and abilities."
"Are you filling my associate's head with nonsense again?" a voice asked from the doorway. I glanced up to see Basil standing there with arms crossed. His clothes had been washed of the bloodstains while the rest of him appeared quite healthy despite the current perturbed expression. Shaking his head, he added, "Honestly, my dear. I cannot leave you alone with the good doctor for five minutes without you sprinkling such talk into that logical-thinking brain of his."
"Basil!" I exclaimed. I was so thrilled to see him looking like his normal self that I moved over and gripped his side in a one-armed hug. "Please, my friend, tell me you are all right now?"
"The same as I was an hour before I left this room," Basil grinned broadly. I found myself trying to ask what she did to lift the curse, but my words came out in unusual stutters. Basil lifted a hand and began to reply, "It is too complicated to explain all that she did, but the main thing is, the curse has been lifted. It's all over." I squinted as he gestured to the doll. "Since the current owner is a child of pure good, the doll should remain that way as well."
"So, you are giving the doll back to Miss Flaversham?"
"If her father will allow her to have it, then yes. I do not need to keep it as a reminder over the triumph of Professor Ratigan, nor of this case." Basil shrugged, chuckling with, "It would be rather silly for a grown mouse such as myself to keep a doll of, well...myself." I watched him lift the doll and hold it without falling to the ground or reacting to sudden pain. Maintaining his smile, he said, "After all, Miss Flaversham did tell me she has a fondness for dolls."
A few days later, I woke up on the twelfth day of August and remembered that was the day of the next full moon. I watched my friend all hours as he worked on his latest case. He seemed in good form and not thinking of curses or the end of his life once the full moon emerged. The curse had to be lifted; I was determined to see that he would make it through the entire day and up until the stroke of twelve. My staring surely annoyed him by the time he noticed I was playing the role of his constant shadow.
"Dawson, would you mind leaving me to enter this room on my own?" he asked dryly, pointing to the water closet.
"Only if you promise you will not fall and hit your head on the sink."
Pouting, he replied, "I promise I will not fall and hit my head on the sink."
"Good-"
"Now, go away!"
oooooooooo
Saturday the fourteenth, Basil received a letter that sent us to Waterloo Station and, from there, to Manchester. I suddenly realized we were about to say a final goodbye to two friends. Miss Flaversham posted a letter explaining she and her father were leaving for Glasgow, Scotland and wrote down their departure time and date. The time was six in the evening on Sunday, the fifteenth. It was a back and forth debate of seeing them before they left for good. Basil mentioned a few times he could mail the doll to her new residency, but in the end, we chose to see them for one last time.
We left London Saturday morning and arrived in Manchester some time in the afternoon. Flaversham was walking down the stairs with a large suitcase in hand as we entered his shop. It seemed he had just woken from a nap and was continuing to pack their belongings for their departure. I took a moment to observe the toymaker as he smiled pleasantly in our direction. He looked worn since the unknown illness struck him with more wrinkles under his eyes and a bit of a slower movement to his walk. Basil stepped across the room to help take the heavy suitcase from his trembling hands and place it on the floor.
"Ah, hello there, lads, it's so good to see you again. Thank you, Mr. Basil, and thank you both for coming by to visit." Flaversham finished with a small sigh, seeming as if it were an effort to even speak. "I reckon you read my daughter's letter, and it is true. We have both decided this move is for the best. I have a friend who owns a toy shop in Glasgow that can help me get back on my feet again."
"We want to wish you and your daughter all the best, Flaversham," I told him, with Basil nodding quietly in agreement. "Where is your daughter?" Flaversham raised a finger in the manner to lower my voice and pointed upward. "Oh, my, it's after one in the afternoon. Is she all right?"
"She was released from hospital on Monday and decided to return to her work the following day," Flaversham replied softly. "I told her not to go back, but she wanted to earn as much money as she could before we left. It seems when she is here, she remembered what happened and it upsets her greatly."
The three of us allowed the child to rest as we walked down to the nearest pie shop to sit and have a cup of tea. I could not stop fretting over Flaversham's health. I continued to ask what all of his symptoms consisted of when he first became ill last Wednesday evening. I refused to believe that his declining health was from a mere doll. It was far too absurd to accept. It was, however, a strange coincidence that the illness occurred shortly after it was brought into their home. The subject was brought up again of why it would harm Flaversham when the only victim was supposed to be Basil. He could only say that the doll was so evil, it chose to hurt anyone it wanted for no reason at all.
"Did you destroy the doll, Mr. Basil?" Flaversham asked while reaching for his teacup.
Basil shook his head no. "Actually, Mr. Flaversham, I was going to return it to its rightful owner: your daughter." Flaversham almost choked on his tea. "I know she will want it, and I can assure you the doll is no longer evil."
"Out of the question," Flaversham stammered with a shaking hand curling into a fist. "I will not subject my daughter to such things."
I tried to help next. "But, Ms Rosenberg is a good friend and we trust her. She said the doll is perfect now that the curse was lifted-"
"I don't care if she lifted ten curses! You are not giving that Devil's toy back to my daughter and that is final!" Flaversham shouted with the same curled fist now slamming down on the table. The vibration sent his teaspoon flying into my direction and onto my pie plate. "That thing never should have been created! It has brought us nothing but heartache."
"As you wish, Flaversham," Basil replied stiffly and quietly. The old mouse's expression softened once more to the same tired one we first saw upon arrival. I carefully reached for the fallen teaspoon to reset it on the saucer, never once taking my eyes off of the toymaker, trying to anticipate what he might do next. He only heaved a long sigh and leaned back in his chair to look between us both, his eyes filled with tears.
"Please, forgive my outburst, but I simply cannot begin to tell you two how much this has taken its toll on me. I may not be as young as you, detective, but ever since she got that horrid doll…I feel as though I've aged twenty years in just this last week." He sighed again and moved forward to lace his trembling fingers together. "She will be perfectly fine with not having the doll in her life...however..." Sighing for a third time, he turned his gaze directly onto Basil. "She is not fine with the idea of not having you in her life." Basil and I looked to one another as he went on. "It's true, lads, she has not done much packing because she does not want to move to Scotland. She would rather return to London so that she can visit you more often. I...I never realized how much my daughter admires you both. Especially you, Mr. Basil."
"Oh, my..." I mumbled, turning to Basil for a second time to catch him staring at Flaversham rather calmly.
"I knew the news would have shocked you, Mr. Basil," Flaversham said evenly.
"This is news that I never thought I'd hear you say, Flaversham…" Basil began, "…but, it is also news that I have known all along." I could not agree more and nodded without looking at either of the two. Silence reigned for several minutes as the import of the words spoken between Basil and Flaversham sunk in.
"Could...could you do me a favor, Mr. Basil?" Both of our eyes looked up at him questionably. "Perhaps you could talk to her tonight, convince her that I am making the right decision? She won't listen to me, so if she heard it from you, it will help her to understand better."
"I don't know, Flaversham," Basil shook his head and twisted his fingers nervously around his cloth napkin. "No offense, but you and I both know she can be a stubborn little girl. I put my foot down and told her she could not accompany us when searching for Fidget, and yet she still followed behind." Eyes rolling, he added, "Not to mention she started begging at the promise of keeping quiet and obedient."
"Why not just move back to London, Flaversham?" I lightly offered. "If I was not mistaken, I saw a Help Wanted sign at Hamleys. If they are still hiring, you can try for a position there until you get your own shop up and running." Flaversham looked to Basil for his opinion. My friend remained silent with his eyes now fixed upon his twisting fingers in the napkin. Small beads of sweat began to slide down his temple.
"That is a good idea, but no, I cannot see myself ever going back to London. I cannot see myself and my daughter living in the same city where I lost my shop and was kidnapped by that horrible bat." Flaversham paused and placed his shaking arms upon the tablecloth. "Besides, I want to give this offer a chance. My friend is waiting for us and is looking forward in helping in any way that he can. I have decided to go to Scotland, and that, lads, is my final decision."
"Well, then, good luck talking to the girl, Basil," I smirked as Basil slid his eyes over in my direction.
Turning mischievous, he chuckled with, "Hmph, at this rate, Flaversham would have better luck bounding and stuffing her in a piece of luggage." Flaversham gawked at those words while I finally saw the humor in such a thought and also let out a light chuckle. Basil grinned over at the toymaker's expression. "What? At least it would be a nice, quiet ride to Glasgow."
"You…you're not serious, are you?" he huffed.
"Hardly, my good man. Hardly." Basil winked.
My poor friend was in a positive mood up until returning to the toyshop when he started to dread the thought of having a one-on-one conversation with the stubborn girl. It did not seem we were gone that long, but it was enough time to enter the shop and discover that the place was entirely empty, including upstairs. My own heart sank as Flaversham began calling out his daughter's name and stomping around in every room in the upstairs flat. Basil rested up against the counter in the shop and listened to the frantic calls while I eventually moved upstairs to see if the girl had decided to play a game of Hide and Seek. Her father and I must have searched every nook and cranny of that top floor and she was nowhere in sight. At the final attempt of doing another search in her father's bedroom, I found a note had fallen onto the floor behind his bureau. I hastily read it to myself and gasped at the words.
"Basil! Basil!" I rushed down the small flight of stairs and shoved the note into his hands. "She's gone! She's run away!" Flaversham trampled down the stairs and almost fell to his knees had I not moved over to catch him in mid-air. The poor man was wheezing and panting to an extent I began to worry he was going to faint. Basil calmly straightened up and looked over the note, reading it out loud:
"Dear Daddy, I've flown the coop. I don't want to go to Scotland, so I've run away to live somewhere else, a secret place only I know about. You can look high and low, but you'll never find me."
"This is so unlike her. Oh, what have I done?" Flaversham collapsed in my arms. "Where could she have gone?"
"Hmm..." Basil cupped his hand to his chin and read over the words repeatedly. "Flown the coop...a secret place...can look high and low..." Smacking the paper with the back of his hand, he darted his eyes to us with a wild expression. "A ha! I have an idea of where she has run off to, but it will require a bit of a trek by carriage. Dawson, you wait here with Flaversham, he is in no condition to travel."
"W-where are you going?" I asked, moving Flaversham to the nearest chair. Basil did not answer, but instead, swiftly headed out with a slam to the door.
oooooooooo
A light drizzle put a slight damper to the detective's unexpected trip out to a place he had hoped to arrive to in a moment's notice. Judging by his pocket watch at half past five, he knew it would be dusk by the time he reached his destination. The carriage ride was a long and bumpy route, but he held on with his head turned outward at the different street signs he crossed. Upon reaching the correct street, he hopped off and ran towards a wide iron gate, pausing to read the sign: Ardwick Green Park. The thin mouse easily slipped through the closed entrance and began to run along the grass fields in search of a particular hollow tree. It took him a long time to examine every single tree until he came across one bearing a camouflage button within its bark. Basil depressed the button, opening a small door to reveal a hole within the tree. As he suspected, the hole contained a rope ladder leading upward to another emptying out onto a tree branch several feet off the ground. The drop would be a simple jump for a human child yet a fatal one to a mouse.
Basil continued to climb the rope rings of the ladder inside the tree, squinting and avoiding numerous bugs or spiders that crawled around him. It was very clammy and warm inside the hole, making him slightly nauseous to the odor of the damp bark. Regardless of the smell, he kept climbing with head and eyes both facing upward. Soon, he began to feel a cool, welcoming breeze as he neared the exit of the second hole. Pushing the door open, he was out on a high branch with a view of a small house nestled against the center of the tree. Basil peered through the window. There was a single lantern lit upon a small end table, providing very little illumination.
"Just as I thought," he whispered at the sight of a mouse sleeping on a sofa against the opposite wall. Basil twisted the doorknob as quietly as he could and entered the tree house, cursing under breath when his head met with a low beam. This caused the brim of his deerstalker to slump down over his eyes, temporarily blinding him. It was a painful realization to say the least that this home was not designed for adults, especially tall ones. Basil groaned and ducked his head, noting he had to keep his back curved while inside the house. The children did a wonderful job at furnishing their little flat in the sky with an assortment of some wooden chairs, a small table and the sofa where he found her. He took no time in moving across the room and kneeling down to tap her shoulder. The young girl stirred and turned over to blink upward at a mouse with a very cross expression.
"Good evening, Miss Flangerhanger."
"I can explain," she said softly.
"There is no need to when your letter revealed plenty of information for me to follow." Basil sighed and shifted to sit more comfortably. Whispering to try and conceal the disappointment in his voice, he began the lecture she was expecting to hear. "How could you do such a thing to your father? To Dawson and myself? You could have been seriously hurt and there is no one in this park that would have been able to help you. What do you have to say for yourself?"
"Sorry?" she replied hopefully. Basil only pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. There was that word again; one he was beginning to dislike the more he heard it. "I really am, Basil, but I didn't know what else to do. I don't want to go to Scotland and Daddy wouldn't listen to me."
"So, running away was the best answer?" Basil huffed and eyed the area around her. "You are not very good at it, either. You have no extra clothes packed, no food or water...and why do you not have your hat and coat?" He scoffed at her missing outdoor garments. "Young lady... you obviously did not think this plan through...in the survival sense, that is..." Basil carefully stood up and went to locate a blanket, snatching one and wrapping it around her shoulders. "Now, come on, enough nonsense, I am taking you straight home-"
"I am home," Miss Flaversham said, pulling away in defiance. "This is where I live now. I'm not going to Scotland, and that's my final word."
Basil emitted a low, throaty growl in response. "Child, I am in no mood for disobedience," he warned with his eyes remaining narrow. "You will come with me this instant or I will summon a constable to take you down instead, and I can assure you he will not be as gentle with you as I am. Now, you are getting out of this tree house and that's my final word!"
Miss Flaversham sighed and began to move. She froze, however, at the sound of an enormous shriek near the window. Shrieking herself, she slammed into Basil's chest, causing them to fall over the table and onto the floor. Both snapped their necks to the right to see a pair of large, yellow eyes looking in at them.
"Basil! Is- is that a-"
"Yes, it is! Confound it, it's night fall, we are not safe up here!" Basil proceeded to crawl over to extinguish the flame in the lantern, leaving the two in a semi-dark room. He then extended his arms to blindly search for the girl, his fingers brushing against her clothing. Miss Flaversham whimpered and reached to hold onto his arms. "It's all right, I got you...quickly now, take my hand!"
The owl continued to peck at the window as Basil scrambled to drag a now crying Miss Flaversham towards the door. Rising too fast to his feet, he bumped his head on the low beam again with another curse word escaping his lips. He grinned sheepishly down at the girl. Before he could apologize for the obscenity, the owl broke the glass of the window and proceeded to peck its way inwardly at them. Basil took Miss Flaversham by the hand with the other twisting at the doorknob. The latch finally clicked and opened for them. They ran as fast as they could to the tree's secret hole.
"Basil, it's coming towards us-"
"Hang on!" Basil pushed Miss Flaversham into the hole first just as the owl fluttered onto the same branch, screeching angrily at them. "Grab hold of the ladder, quickly!" Miss Flaversham took hold of the ladder and began to descend a little as Basil climbed inside the hole next. He turned to descend the ladder but gave a shout when he did so, meeting a pair of yellow eyes mere inches from his face. Basil reached a shaking hand up to try and close the hole, nearly losing his fingers from the massive pecking of the owl's beak.
"No!" Miss Flaversham screamed in fright. "Stupid, bird! Leave him alone!"
"Away with you, you maniacal fowl!" Basil growled and poked two fingers directly into the owl's eyes. The owl shrieked and snapped its head back, allowing Basil time to slam the door. The movement caused him to lose his footing on the ladder and step onto Miss Flaversham's head.
"Ow, Basil! Watch out!" The child gasped and turned to gaze up at the bottom of his shoes. Basil looked down and sighed in frustration.
"Blast it all, child... don't- don't stop! Keep going! Go!" Miss Flaversham continued to climb down the ladder with the fuming detective not too far behind. At the base of the hole, she started to open the door when Basil jumped off the ladder and stopped her, placing a finger to his lips. "Shhh, wait! Wait for it to leave..." The owl continued to screech above them in hopes they were still at the top.
"I'm scared." Miss Flaversham backed up against the tree bark with arms wrapped around her chest to try and calm down. Basil was at a loss of what to say to her when he too was scared he would not get her out of their predicament alive. Someone, however, had to be the brave one of the two, and he immediately elected himself. Turning to face her, his eyes widened at the sight of a large spider crawling down her shoulder. Catching his horror of an expression, she asked, "What's wrong?"
"Don't move."
"What?" Basil moved forward and smacked at her shoulder, making her shout and jump to the side. The spider went flying in some unknown direction as Miss Flaversham gave him a look of surprise. "What was it?"
"Oh, it was just a spider crawling on you." A loud gasp was heard as he casually went on. "This tree has a terrible insect infestation. I would stay away from the sides if I were- Oof!" Miss Flaversham unexpectedly jumped on him with arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Gasping for air from the loss of oxygen, he faintly uttered, "Perhaps I should not have told you that?"
"Get me out of here!" Tears began to pour from her eyes. She gasped again at the screeching and looked up. It almost sounded as if two or three more owls had come to investigate. Basil also took pause to lift his head upward to listen to the sounds of their unholy cries and fluttering wings. "Please, I want to go home now!"
"Oh, but, I thought you already were home," Basil chuckled, amazed that he was able to find humor at such a time. Miss Flaversham could only stare up at him in shock. Catching her gaze, his grin faded and he lightly tapped her back. "It's all right, my dear, I know exactly what you mean. I promise I will get you home to your father as soon as possible."
Silence above seemed to indicate the owls had given up the chase. Basil and Miss Flaversham slowly began to climb out of the hole and dart across the lawn to the nearest bush, waiting for the next attempt of running towards the park's main gate. To their dismay, several owls were still flying and swooping around in the area, searching for any critters such as themselves for a tasty morsel. On the other side of the gate, Basil could see a stationary carriage facing in the direction they needed to go. Taking a deep breath, the two latched hands and performed a sprint towards the main gate. Screeching was heard overhead along with Miss Flaversham screaming in fright. Both soon reached one of the rear wheels of the carriage and, in a swift move, Basil lifted and placed Miss Flaversham onto the footrest. As he started to climb on next, the carriage began to move. Basil quickly jumped at the footrest, clinging on with Miss Flaversham pulling him up with any strength she had left in her.
"Thank you..." Basil said, receiving a mere nod in return. He could see she was greatly shaken with fear, and rightfully so after the events they had just been through. Smiling weakly, he continued, "Well, that was quite an adventure, wasn't it?"
The young girl sighed and dropped her head upon his shoulder in a silent faint. "It was indeed."
Basil carefully shifted an arm to locate his pipe and matchbook in his coat pocket. As he blew out the first puff of smoke, he started to lightly chuckle again at the disbelief of all that happened to them. Miss Flaversham continued to sleep and he smiled outward, knowing this was going to be a very quiet ride back to her father's shop.
oooooooooo
Upon returning home, Miss Flaversham was more than agreeable to travel to Scotland with her father. I have yet to receive details of what exactly happened, only that when Basil returned with the girl, I could see both had been through quite an ordeal. We bid the two good night and went to stay at our rooms at the Grapes Hotel, seeing them both off at the train station the following evening. Flaversham changed his mind about allowing his daughter to accept the voodoo doll when realizing it was the only thing she would have as a reminder of the detective. It was a tearful farewell even for Basil. The second time was just as hard on him, perhaps more so than the first. He was already walking away from the view of the train long before it left the station. I soon located him sitting quietly on a bench and having a much-needed smoke on his pipe. He was not in the mood to talk about anyone or anything, and I accepted that with no arguments.
ooooooooo
A/N: End of Chapter 11. This is considered the wrap-up chapter after the battle has ended. I wanted to write in one more amusing adventure with Basil and Olivia before the story came to a close, but I had hoped I wasn't writing her out of character by running away. The epilogue is next and then it's over!
