Chapter 12: Undercover
"I hardly think this is much better than that sailor outfit," Dawson complained as he studied his reflection in the water while they stood outside of the tavern. He sneezed, wiping a little bit of the soot off of his face that Basil had smeared on him from the fireplace at Baker Street. He glanced down at the old moth-eaten rags he was wearing with a grimace. "At least these clothes actually fit..."
"Oh, don't be so cynical Dawson," Basil tutted in an unusual jovial mood as he adjusted the cap on his head with a grimy hand. "This is an opportunity for you to explore your inner thespian and adopt a completely different personality!"
Dawson crossed his arms and pouted. "I like my own personality just fine, thank you very much."
"Rather boring at times, if you ask me."
"I didn't ask you—"
"The rules are the same as before," Basil interrupted, striking his match and lighting his cigarette. He blew out a puff of smoke while instructing Dawson on how to act. "We're lowlife criminals wanted for heinous crimes, so no smiling or behaving like a proper gentlemouse. Just stay close to me and do as I do. We don't want a repeat of what happened last time…"
Dawson sputtered indignantly. "Do you really have to keep bringing that up?!"
"Shh!" Basil shushed, and Dawson had no time to protest as his colleague threw the door open and waltzed inside the notorious pub known as the Rat Trap. It seemed nothing had changed in the dingy tavern since the last time the two mice had been there on the night of the Diamond Jubilee. Dawson grimaced, squinting his eyes to see in the dim light and trying not to choke on the cloud of cigar smoke covering the room. He followed close behind Basil as they wound their way through the tables. Most of the tavern's patrons paid them no attention, either too wrapped up in their card games and drinks or distracted by the little show happening up on the stage, but Dawson was very much aware of a few threatening glares directed their way.
Basil picked a table near the bar where he could get a view of the entire room. While Dawson was distracted once again by the crooning of the showgirls on stage, Basil ordered their drinks using a disguised cockney accent and discreetly observed their surroundings, searching for one face in particular among this crowd of petty thieves and criminals. By the time the girls had finished their third dance number Basil was growing restless.
Where is that woman?! Basil thought, drumming his fingers against the table impatiently. She should be here by now…
"Well hello there, handsome," a familiar voice crooned behind Basil. He turned to see Charlotte standing over him but gave a start at seeing her dressed as one of the scantily clad showgirls in a red dress that hugged every inch of her curves, her hair done up with curls cascading over one shoulder. He pulled the collar of his coat up to try to hide the blush spreading on his cheeks, but it was clear from the twinkle in her eyes that she had already seen it. Before he could react Charlotte sat gracefully on Basil's knee and grabbed his collar, pulling him closer to her.
"I found your lead," Charlottte said, causing Basil to blush more as her seductive voice whispered in his ear. "But the only way I can get you backstage is if you play along." She pulled back and smiled, trailing a finger down his chest as she kept up the charade. "Shakespeare did say the world is a play, and all actors must play their part. Perhaps you haven't learned your role yet."
"You're not cultured enough to know Shakespeare," Basil retorted, suddenly aware of the jealous stares from other patrons directed his way.
Charlotte feigned offense. "Oh, how cruel of you! Just like Merticuno!"
"Are you quite finished so we can get on with our investigation and out of this repulsive establishment?" Basil muttered from the corner of his mouth as he put on a lovesick smile, playing along with Charlotte's little act. His arm snaked behind her back but before it could come to rest on her hip she smacked his hand away.
"Hmph." Charlotte smirked playfully. She rose to her feet slowly and then leaned down again, making sure to show off her best assets. "Maybe you all you need is a little direction," she purred, motioning him forward with her finger. Basil looked over at Dawson to see a set of twins making their own attempts to seduce the doctor.
"N-Now see here, I'm a married mouse-!" Dawson protested, blushing furiously as he looked to Basil for help. Giving a roguish smile Basil winked.
"Don't be so rude to th' nice ladies," Basil drawled in the fake accent, giving Dawson a knowing wink before turning back to follow Charlotte. Groaning apprehensively Dawson allowed the attractive twins to lead him along as well, and soon they were escorted through the crowd and around the stage. Once behind the curtain Charlotte led them through a short dark hallway. Dawson blushed even more bright red; he didn't even want to imagine what might be going on behind those closed doors. After reaching one of the rooms Charlotte knocked briefly before leading them inside.
Dawson blinked and rubbed his eyes at the sudden brightness after being in the dark hallway, and as his eyes adjusted he was surprised to find that the twins had gone, leaving him and Basil with Charlotte. But he became even more surprised once he noticed a beautiful white furred female mouse sitting opposite of them in a chair in front of a dressing table with an ornate mirror.
"These the friends you were telling me about, Charlie?" the lady mouse smiled as she turned around.
"They're the ones," Charlotte replied cheerfully. "This is Kathryn, but you probably know her better by her stage name. We go way back, don't we, Kitty?"
"Mm-hmm. Y' know, they don't look much like detectives," Kitty replied in amusement, chuckling at the state of Basil and Dawson's dress.
"I'm afraid Basil of Baker Street wouldn't be welcome here," Basil replied as he introduced himself. He regarded the female sex as a sly and cunning sort, and as a result of past personal experiences was often mistrustful of them; but he always treated them with equal respect and never underestimated them. He had made that mistake once before and learned the hard way not to do it again. Basil accepted her hand and brought it up to his lips in a gentleman's kiss. "Nor would his chronicler, Dr. Dawson."
"Such a gentlemouse," Kitty giggled, her cheeks turning a slight pink. "And quite a handsome one at that." She then tilted her head curiously as her blue eyes came to rest on Dawson. "You seem awfully familiar… have we met before?"
"I, uh—N-No, I don't believe so," Dawson stammered, trying not to stare at her crossed legs showing from underneath the split of her blue dressing gown.
"Huh," Kitty mused, causing Dawson to squirm uncomfortably. Basil broke the awkwardness by clearing his throat, but before he could speak Charlotte took charge.
"Kitty, wasn't there something you wanted to share with us?" she prodded.
"Right," Kitty nodded, getting back to the matter at hand. "You fellas are investigating the serial killings. I'm afraid I can't help you much with that, but… I do have another bit of information regarding you in particular, Mr. Basil."
Basil's piercing green eyes flashed with anticipation. At last, this could be the break he needed in this case. "And what might that be?" he asked, hardly able to contain his eagerness. However Kitty shook her head solemnly.
"I don't think you'll be so excited once I tell you. You see, there's a rumor floating around in the criminal underworld. It's very hush-hush since most are even afraid to say his name anymore, but…" A look of what looked like fear came into Kitty's eyes as she lowered her voice. "It's him. They say he's alive, and that… that he's coming for you, Mr. Basil."
A hush settled in the room after that statement. Dawson glanced at Basil, knowing this news would affect him the most, and watched in concern while Basil fought to hide the range of emotions that came over him. Scoff and amusement at such a ridiculous notion; then anger that someone would waste his time with such nonsense; then a chilling fear that such an impossibility might be true. No. Ridiculous. It couldn't be…! However, the doubt had already taken root in the back of his mind and he fought to keep it from spreading like a poison through his brain.
Once he had found his voice again and mastered his emotions, Basil took a deep breath and focused on Kitty. "I have my own connections in London's criminal underground," he remarked coldly. "I think I would have heard of such a rumor by now."
Kitty's face turned red and she glared at Basil with her arms crossed irately. "Is that so?" she sneered, clearly offended that he doubted her word. "Well maybe you should get out more often, Mister Basil."
"I think what Kitty is trying to say," Charlotte interrupted as Basil opened his mouth to retort, pushing herself in between them, "is that you're not a criminal, so you don't have the connections that we do." Her eyes twinkled in amusement as she pointed her finger against Basil's chest. "And don't forget you're talking to one of the only mice to ever outsmart you."
Basil scowled and pushed her hand away. "Hard to forget if you keep reminding me…"
"Could you two lovebirds stop bickering long enough to have a serious conversation?" Dawson interrupted irately as the tension began to get to him as well. "In case you've forgotten we still have a deranged killer on the loose, and now apparently Ratigan's ghost has come back from the dead to exact revenge upon you!"
"Well that's just it," Basil pointed out. "It's only gossip. Rumors become twisted and jumbled as they're passed from person to person until the story is completely different from the original truth. I mean has anyone claimed yet to have actually seen Ratigan?" Kitty and Charlotte exchanged glances, and Basil groaned. "Oh god, don't tell me…"
"You need to talk to Fidget," Kitty answered with a nod. "He may be mad now, poor thing, but it's worth a shot, don't you think?"
"Bloody hell," Basil muttered, rubbing his forehead as he felt his headache intensify as he recalled his last run-in with the deranged bat. But it looked like he was their only choice. "Where can we find that peg legged monstrosity?"
"Last I saw him he was headed down to the old lair in the sewers," Kitty answered. "He comes and goes from here frequently, so I think he must still live there. It's not like the police go down there anymore since the Professor was defeated and all the other goons were arrested."
"Can you take us there?" Basil asked.
Kitty smirked, examining her fingernails almost appearing bored. "I can…"
Basil groaned and rolled his eyes; this is precisely why he never liked working with females. "Fine, will you take us?"
The white furred mouse smiled again, enjoying the look on Basil's face but after a sharp nudge from Charlotte she shrugged. "Eh, yeah, sure. I owe Charlie one anyway."
"Thanks, doll," Charlotte replied with a wink. "Although I hardly think this is appropriate attire if we're to go gallivanting into the sewers." With an innocent grin she turned her back to Basil and held up her hair away from her neck, exposing the back of her dress. "Be a dear, would you darling?"
Basil glared but finally gave in with an annoyed sigh. He unbuttoned the dress, fingers clumsy as he was anxious to get it over with while a blush spread to his cheeks as her bare back was exposed. "Easy, tiger," Charlotte teased as she stepped behind a folding screen to change back into a shirt and trousers.
"Good god, Violet is going to kill me," Dawson muttered under his breath as he turned his back out of decency and squeezed his eyes shut, his face as red as a tomato.
"Don't mind me, boys," Charlotte called out cheerily, her bare silhouette visible against the thin screen. "Carry on!"
"Right," Basil quickly cleared his throat. "Miss… Kitty. You were saying?"
Kitty nodded. "Sure, I can show you the way. But I'm afraid I don't know where the actual hideout is; I can only take you to the entrance. That's why I was hired, to distract the customers as the Professor and his gang came and went."
"Wait, wasn't the entrance through a trapdoor under the bar?" Dawson asked, remembering that that was how he and Basil had gotten to Ratigan's lair the last time. Kitty looked over at him strangely and Dawson suddenly realized he'd put his foot in his mouth. "Erm, well, I-I mean—"
"There's sure to be a more direct route, correct?" Basil hastily interrupted, glancing at Dawson with a glare.
Still a little puzzled as to how Dawson knew about the trap door Kitty simply shrugged it off and nodded. "There is, but as I said, I can only get you to the entrance. The Professor went to great lengths to keep his hiding place a secret."
"Not much of a secret for a sewer rat to hide in the sewers," Basil remarked sardonically, causing Kitty to tense at his use of the word "rat." He noted her reaction with interest, marveling and even slightly impressed at how Ratigan's reputation remained even so long after his death. Perhaps that explained why he also felt shivers crawling up his spine…
"That's better," Charlotte remarked as she stepped out from behind the screen, dressed in a simple dress shirt and brown trousers and boots with her hair tied back behind her head. "Shall we?" she said, her face beaming innocently.
"Ladies first," Basil retorted, gesturing for her and Kitty to exit as he held the door open for them. Basil went after Dawson, and the three followed Miss Kitty as she guided them through more hallways and doors.
"This is it," the stage girl announced after some length. She opened a simple wooden door that on the outside appeared to be nothing more than a broom closet. However upon closer examination the door opened to a set of stairs that led downward into the floor. Taking a closer look, Basil stepped inside and craned his head to try to see down further. If the smell wasn't any indication he could definitely make out the form of the sewers at the bottom of the dozen or so steps.
"That's as far as I'll go," Kitty said determinedly, wrapping her robe more tightly around her shoulders as she shivered from the cold draft.
"Thank you for your help," Basil replied, serious this time. Kitty nodded and gave a small smile.
"Please solve this, and soon," Kitty whispered as she watched the trio disappear into the sewers.
…..
After taking their leave of Miss Kitty, Basil, Dawson, and Charlotte began the long trip down into the darkened tunnels of Mousedom's underground. The route they took led through a winding maze of pipes. It was slow and difficult work because at one point the pipes became so small that they had to crawl on their hands and knees, their clothes becoming wet from the filthy water trickling through the pipes, but they pressed on determinedly.
A wave of memories swept over Basil as they meandered through the labyrinth of pipes. He and Dawson had taken this same route while searching for Olivia and her father years ago on the night of the Queen's Diamond Jubilee.
"Ugh, I never understood how someone as prim and fancy as Ratigan could live in such filth," Charlotte remarked, grimacing at the stench and sewage they were crawling through. "I do hope you know where you're going, Bas."
"You worked for him," Basil replied rather sardonically. "Shouldn't you be leading the way?"
"Just because I pulled off one job for him doesn't mean I know where the lair is," Charlotte retorted crossly, bristling at the hidden accusation. "Like Kitty said, the Professor valued his privacy."
"So it was only one job?" Basil scoffed.
"What, you don't believe me?!"
"I never said that."
"You don't have to! I told you before, the Big Ben Caper was my only stint with Ratigan. I never even saw him face to face except twice, and both times he wore a cloak and top hat hiding his face as he threatened to kill you if I didn't cooperate. Hey!" Charlotte protested as Basil suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth. Glaring angrily she tried to pry his hand away. "Mmph, wh' th' 'ell 'u doin'?!" she demanded in a muffled voice.
"Shh, listen!" Basil hissed in her ear. "Don't you hear that?"
All three strained their ears and listened, but all that could be heard was the sound of water dripping and trickling through the pipes.
"I could have sworn…" Basil trailed off, his back rigid as he fought the urge to shiver. He thought he had heard a maniacal laugh in the distance.
"You're hearing things, Bas," Charlotte teased, tweaking his right ear.
"Whatever," Basil retorted, annoyed that his own mind betrayed him and was playing tricks on him now. "Let's just keep going."
Finally after what seemed like an eternity they reached the end of the long tunnel and opened a nearby sewer grate. Basil went first, motioning for the others once he made sure the coast was clear and then shutting the grate behind them.
A familiar chill ran through Basil as they entered Ratigan's lair at last, which was now only a shadow of the Napoleon of Crime's regime. Yet it was still easily recognizable by the dully colored red banners hanging in tatters from the walls and a golden letter "R" painted in yellow on an overturned wine barrel, the entrance to what used to be Ratigan's "throne room."
Dawson and Charlotte watched quietly as Basil walked along almost as if in a trance. There was the barrel with the barred door that had served as Flaversham's cell while Ratigan forced him to cooperate with his evil plans; there was the green bottle that had once held Olivia inside as hostage; even the anvil and the scattered remains of the broken mouse trap that Basil and Dawson had barely escaped from with their lives, along with the dusty old record player where Ratigan's voice had mockingly serenaded them as they awaited their death. It was just as he remembered, and even more filthy than he had imagined.
And there was Fidget, hanging upside down in his usual perch just inside the doorway to Ratigan's throne room.
"Alright, let's get this over with," Basil sighed, marching past the others. "Fidget, wake up," he stated loudly to wake him up. Fidget continued snoring loudly, muttering something in his sleep. Basil gritted his teeth, annoyed with the whole situation. "Fidget!"
Fidget yelped in surprise and fell from his perch, tumbling down the steps at the doorway. "Hey, waddaya think yer doin'-?!" Fidget's eyes got wide as he saw the three mice standing around him and began to scramble around trying to back away. "Told ya I don't know nuthin'!"
"On the contrary; I think you know much more than you're letting on," Basil retorted. Fear came into the bat's eyes as he looked up at Basil, but it soon faded as he started snickering in amusement, much to Basil's annoyance.
"What's so funny?" Basil demanded, feeling his skin crawl at the bat's raspy laughter. Figdet grinned appearing as happy as could be.
"Yer gonna be in biiiig trouble soon, 'tective," Fidget giggled like a naughty child.
"What are you blathering on about?!"
"Big bad rat is back, Bassy!" Fidget laughed, hobbling around Basil as he stared in horror. "His claws gonna tear you through, pour your blood on the floor! He's mad! He's real mad, and he's gonna clean your corpse! How's it feel ta be a hero now?!"
"Th-That's enough!" Basil yelled, backing away from Fidget and tripping over his own feet, making him fall on his back. Dawson's hand went to his revolver but Fidget seemed to lose interest and scrambled away, flapping his crippled wing.
"Ratti's gonna getcha, Ratti's gonna getcha…" Fidget snickered in a sing-song voice as he skipped happily away before fading into crazed laughter. Basil leapt to his feet to give chase but was held back as Dawson grabbed his arms.
"It's no use, Basil."
"That… that insane little…!"
"Just let him go," Charlotte said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "He's not worth the time."
Frustrated and feeling a little embarrassed Basil shrugged away from Charlotte and faced the wall, bracing himself with both hands against it. He breathed heavily as Fidget's words echoed in his head. In this intricate web of what was perhaps the most trying case of his career, Basil was scrambling for a thread that would lead to the spider at the center. Finding that clue at the Rat Trap was a long shot, but one Basil had been willing to take. He had held on to that one tiny glimmer of hope that he would finally uncover a clue that would get them back on track. But the endeavor had turned out to be just as he had expected; a complete waste.
"All this, and for what? Absolutely nothing," Basil hissed through gritted teeth, hands trembling as he clenched them into fists and slammed them against the wall.
Charlotte flinched. She'd never seen Basil react so violently. Once he seemed a little calmer she ventured to ask, "What exactly did you expect to find?" Seeing Basil's reaction to the question, she almost wished she hadn't asked. With a dejected sigh Basil's hands relaxed and fell limp by his side, ignoring his bruised knuckles.
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
Feeling her heart wrench Charlotte reached out to touch his shoulder, but retracted her hand as Basil turned away. "I'm sorry, Basil," Charlotte whispered, feeling guilty for bringing him on what turned out to be a wild goose chase.
"You should go home," Basil replied, his voice sounding hollow and tired. "It's… not safe."
Charlotte felt her heart sink but she nodded, not wishing to start a fight with him about how she could take care of herself. "What about you?" she asked quietly.
"I need to think."
Basil walked out of the lair without a second glance back, while Dawson and Charlotte followed. When they reached the surface again a light drizzle had begun, but he didn't seem to notice it as he walked further ahead of them. Charlotte watched him and then looked at Dawson with concern, but he had known Basil long enough to recognize his colleague's behavior.
"It's best to leave him be," Dawson replied knowingly to Charlotte's unspoken question. "Give him some space, let him clear his head."
She nodded again and reached for Dawson's hand. "Please take care of him, Doctor."
"Indeed I shall," Dawson replied, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "And thank you for all your help."
"I'm afraid I only made things worse," she remarked with a sad expression. "I'm good at that, it seems," she added quietly, watching Basil's lean silhouette fading down the street. Dawson glanced at her, his ears lowering at the sad look on her face. He didn't know much about her and Basil's past together but he knew enough to see that their relationship had been a rocky one.
Shaking her head Charlotte turned back to Dawson with a gentle smile. "Goodnight, Dr. Dawson."
"Goodnight, Miss Charlotte," Dawson replied. As Charlotte faded from view Dawson ran to catch up with Basil, and they walked in silence the rest of the way home.
….
Basil angrily burst through the front door of his Baker Street flat with Dawson following behind quietly. He practically tore off his disguise and flung it away from him, not caring where the pieces of clothing would land, yet neither did he waste the time to change into his more comfortable dressing gown. Left only in his shirt and trousers and boots, Basil snatched up his pipe from the mantelpiece and cursed as he burned his hand from lighting it so hurriedly. Then he began pacing restlessly in front of the fire.
Dawson sighed as he slumped into his chair wearily, watching Basil with concern as he paced back and forth. He had never seen the detective so uneasy. Over the last few days they'd spent hours reanalyzing what few clues they had; but it seemed that every clue led directly to a dead end. The failed meeting with Fidget was the last straw. The endeavor seemed now like a complete waste of time and energy, leaving them even more physically and mentally drained.
Dawson looked with concern at his friend. Poor Basil looked as if he were on the verge of collapse. He was breathing heavily, and sweat lined his brow. Basil was so concerned with his clients, that he took no thought for his own health. Although his feet ached, he continued to walk back and forth, clouds of smoke from his pipe swirling around him.
"Basil," Dawson finally said after some time, "you need to sit."
"I'm fine, Dawson," Basil insisted with what almost sounded like a growl.
"No, you're not," Dawson pressed. "You're exhausted. You must rest."
Basil's bloodshot eyes flashed as he turned on Dawson angrily. "Rest?" he yelled, causing Dawson to flinch. "How can I rest?! People are dying because of me! Each moment that slips by puts more lives in danger. How can I possibly rest…?!" At that moment Basil swayed a little and almost collapsed, having to grab onto the mantelpiece for support, and Dawson decided that it was time to put his foot down. He stood, took Basil firmly by the shoulders, steered him towards his chair, then gently pushed him into it.
"This has gone far enough, Basil," Dawson said sternly. "I know you're concerned about the good of your clients, and how much it means to you to find whoever is causing them harm. But you are literally working yourself to death. You've hardly been eating, you haven't slept in days, you've been running all over London without any rest… I've said before that you have remarkable reserves of energy, but it won't last forever. If you keep on like this, soon you will grow ill; you hardly have the energy to walk now. How will you be able to solve anything if you can't even function normally?"
At first Basil glared at Dawson with annoyance and Dawson expected to be reprimanded for his actions; but then his ears flattened against his head and he sat silently, considering the doctors words. Finally, Basil sighed heavily and leaned his head back against the chair. "Perhaps…" he began quietly, "Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to take a small respite for just a moment."
Dawson nodded and resumed his seat across from Basil.
Basil looked sheepishly at his friend. "I'm sorry, Dawson," Basil apologized. "I…I don't know what came over me. But it was wrong of me to take my frustrations out on you. I do hope you can forgive me?"
Dawson's eyebrows shot up briefly as he seldom received apologies from Basil, but then he smiled slightly. "It's alright, old boy. You're just worried, that's all."
Basil closed his eyes and laid his head back. "There are so many unanswered questions…"
"Like why would someone want to do this to you?"
"That's an easy one: revenge," Basil said matter-of-factly. "It is highly suggestive that all the victims were my clients. I've helped countless people during my career, and anyone who's contacted me is in danger." He lowered his gaze to the floor. "They're suffering because of me."
"No, whoever is behind all this is causing them to suffer. You mustn't think that this is your fault. That is just what this person wants. They know that you'll feel guilty, and that guilt is consuming you, clouding your mind."
"Perhaps," Basil replied quietly. Still feeling restless he shifted in his seat and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, fingertips resting together. "Then there's this rumor of Ratigan's return. It could very well be an invention of the true killer."
"But why go to such trouble to create such a myth?" Dawson asked in confusion.
"To cause more panic and fear among the citizens of Mousedom. To spread doubt… even to myself," Basil added quietly. He shook his head and gripped his fists together tightly. "It's a cowardly tactic, hiding behind a fantasy of my archenemy returning from the dead. That is unless…"
Dawson sensed a change in Basil, growing more concerned at the paleness of his face. "Unless what?"
"Nothing," Basil quickly responded, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. Dawson wished he knew what Basil was about to say but knew he would get no answer.
"So the motive is revenge," Dawson repeated, trying to link all the pieces together. He sighed and rubbed the back of his head, sharing Basil's frustration. "You've put so many criminals behind bars… it could be anyone. How do we even begin to narrow it down?"
"I… I don't know, Dawson."
Dawson had never seen his friend in such a state. The young detective seemed to have aged suddenly; premature silvery hairs shimmering in the light of the fire, head in his hands, bent shoulders shaking. He had always been the one in control, always knew what to do in the direst of situations. But now…
Basil sat back up and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. This was ridiculous; they were only running in circles. "Let's go over what we know," he said, checking things off on his fingers. "We know that whoever this is has a grudge against me, but that could apply to most of the population of Mousedom. We know that they'll attack people who were clients of mine, but we don't know who they'll target next… And then there's the prison break," he added, rubbing his temples. "They must be connected. There must be a mastermind, someone who would want common criminals to do his bidding…"
"Sounds an awful lot like—" Dawson trailed off quietly.
"Precisely," Basil agreed. Dawson looked up surprised at the look Basil gave him.
"I thought you didn't believe the rumors," Dawson pointed out.
"I don't. Not the ridiculous notion that he's arose from the dead. But the ones that he could have survived..."
The doctor stared at Basil with his mouth open. "But it's impossible that someone could have fallen from that height and lived!"
"Improbable, but not impossible," Basil pointed out. "After all, we never found his body. That is the one point that has always perplexed me. There should have been some trace…bloodstains, a splattered corpse, something. But even Toby, with the most remarkable sense of smell of any hound I've seen, couldn't find a single trace."
"Something could have carried the body off," Dawson suggested. "A stray cat, or a bird even…"
"Either way, some trace should have been left. And there was none."
They sat in silence for several minutes, each trying to pierce the veil that covered this mystery.
"Dawson," Basil said after a few moments, "do you… do you believe I've gone mad?"
"No, of course not."
Basil noted how quickly the doctor responded; it was almost too quick. "You don't think it's even remotely foolish that I would even consider that…that Ratigan might possibly be alive?"
"I understand your concern," Dawson replied carefully. "But I believe that the stress is wearing on you. You're overly tired, and it's clouding your thinking. And I think the nightmares especially contribute to that."
"Perhaps you're right." A steely gaze entered Basil's green eyes, and he suddenly sprang to his feet. "But I will not sit idly while innocent lives are being taken. Speculation will get us nowhere. It is time for action."
Dawson watched concerned as Basil grabbed his Inverness coat and hat. "Where are you going?"
"Out," Basil replied simply, refilling his pipe. "I need to clear my head."
The doctor sighed as the door shut behind Basil, but he refrained from following this time as he knew Basil liked his space. Still, his friend's actions worried Dawson, and he hoped his fears of Basil working himself literally to death did not happen.
….
Outside the drizzle had turned into a light rain as Basil sat on his doorstep. After smoking for while he put his pipe down on the ground and sighed deeply, rubbing his tired eyes. He kept them closed for a moment, tuning out the rest of the world and wishing to turn his racing thoughts off for just a little while. His brain was a constant working machine, and it had run on overdrive so much lately that perhaps the doctor's predictions might actually come true and he would burn himself out.
Basil stepped out into the night and turned his face up to the sky, enjoying the pleasant sensation of the sharp cool rain hitting his face, making himself and his thoughts feel a little more refreshed.
Basil's ear twitched when he heard a sound nearby, but when he opened his eyes he found himself staring down the barrel of a revolver. Damn it, he thought to himself, frustrated that he had allowed himself to become so occupied that he didn't detect the intruder until it was too late. He looked past the gun but it was too dark to recognize the face, especially as the features were hidden by a hat and upturned coat collar. Basil's heart pounded as more figures surrounded him, and he tensed ready to fight to his last breath. But the gunman pressed his weapon closer right between Basil's eyes.
"Don't make a sound, if you want your tubby friend to live," the voice hissed. As he gestured to the window Basil followed his gaze to see another mouse pointing a rifle through the window aimed directly at Dawson, who was stilling sitting in his chair with his back to the window. Basil growled, but was forced to comply with his friend's own life in jeopardy.
The detective's thoughts were interrupted as he was suddenly assaulted from behind. Basil immediately thrashed about wildly as four of the attackers fought to keep him secure, but he managed to strike out and land a few punches. However he was soon rendered helpless as something smashed into his skull, causing stars to explode behind his eyes. He felt himself being dragged away from Baker Street into an ally, which gave him a little relief confirming that he was the one they wanted and not Dawson. However, he wasn't keen on finding out just what they were going to do with him.
Although panting from the effort and feeling dizzy and nauseated from the blow, Basil started fighting back again weakly. But soon his eyes widened in horror as a cloth was forced over his mouth and he recognized the sickly sweet smell of chloroform. He renewed his struggles again, his shouts muffled by the cloth that threatened to smoother him; but the drug was already taking effect, making his limbs feel heavy and his mind cloudy and sluggish.
Through lidded eyes he could make out a large caped figure wearing a formal top hat suddenly looming above, casting a dark shadow across him, and Basil's heart nearly stopped as he stared up at the face grinning down at him. He felt a gloved hand stroke his cheek almost tenderly and shivered at the touch.
"Did you miss me?" the all too familiar voice crooned as Basil trembled and fought to stay conscious, a battle he quickly lost. Everything faded away apart from one single name that echoed in his brain as his world spiraled out of the control, realizing that his worst nightmare was coming true.
Ratigan.
Author's Notes:
Betcha didn't see that coming?!
Nah, it was pretty obvious. Ok I hope it wasn't THAT obvious... I tried to keep you guessing as much as I could but here you go.
I can't help picturing Fidget doing the voice "He's baaaaaaack...!"
And wow this chapter is freaking looooong. And it's taken forever to write it O.O
I've so wanted Basil and Dawson to go back to the Rat Trap for the longest time XD I have a headcannon that Basil never let Dawson forget the last incident with Kitty and the twin showgirls, and he teases Dawson about it in a couple of my other fics too. Luckily Kitty didn't recognize him completely. And let's hope Mrs. Dawson never finds out about it either. Talk about awkward XD
And I couldn't resist some shipteasing with Basil and Charlotte. In my GMD universe they had a thing back in the day and ended on less than friendly terms, so there's tension. Plus I just like to make Basil squirm 8D
Another thing about this chapter is the next to last scene with Basil and Dawson discussing the case... I actually wrote it probably over 2 years ago. When I first started this fic this was one of the first scenes I wrote for it. I had no idea what would lead to it but I knew that at some point I wanted a scene with Basil literally working himself to death and Dawson has to physically make him stop so he doesn't kill himself. Granted I've added a lot of details to the scene since then but the basic plot and most of the dialogue has remained the same.
Just an interesting tidbit I thought I'd share. Cookie to you if you actually read this entire description XD
Thanks to CherlnIDA as always. She came up with the Shakespeare thing for Charlotte and most of the dialogue for Fidget. All hail the GMD Queen of Horror!
Basil, Dawson, Fidget, Ratigan, Miss Kitty etc. (c)Eve Titus and Disney
Charlotte Hampton (c)Me
Just a little warning for the squeamish: The story becomes a little more dark and gory after this. I mean what did you think Ratigan was going to do with Basil once he got his hands on him? So read on at your own risk...