I wrote this story for my English class a a month or so back, and just remembered it today. Because my teacher is awesome, she let me use Sherlock Holmes for the creative writing assignment, but she said that the main character had to be mine. So, I used my kitten Sockball!

I hope you enjoy it. :)


It was late in the morning at 221b Baker Street in London. Sockball, the small, orange, and surprisingly intelligent kitten belonging to Mrs. Hudson lay curled up in his basket before the kitchen fire.

There was a knock at the front door. Sockball perked up at the sound, wondering who could be at the door. He stood up and stretched, then strolled to the kitchen stairs and hopped up them. He quietly slipped in the back door of the sitting room and curled up behind a chair, watching the proceedings, unseen by the other occupants of the room. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson were seated in their respective chairs, Holmes reading a newspaper, and Watson reading a novel.

"A gentleman to see you," said Mrs. Hudson as she entered the room and handed Holmes the man's card.

"Send him in," Holmes replied.

The man walked uncertainly in, fidgeting with a loose coat button and chewing his lower lip. His face was flushed a reddish color, and he looked embarrassed about being there.

"Please, sit down," Watson said, gesturing to the sofa. Sockball crawled a few inches to his left so he could keep them all in view. The man seated himself hesitantly on the edge of the sofa, appearing prepared to leap from his seat and run out of the room at any moment.

"Your name and why you are here, please?" said Holmes, finally laying his newspaper aside and giving his prospective client his full attention.

"William Arterbury," he replied. "I am here because my wife has lost a very valuable necklace, which she inherited from her great-aunt."

"Tell me everything that has occurred," said Holmes.

"I shall tell you everything that occurred yesterday, leading up to the disappearance of the necklace. My wife and I had purchased tickets to a concert at four that afternoon, and so we left our house in a brougham at about three-thirty. The servants at our house are the cook (Mr. Hansbury), the butler (Mr. Benford), the housekeeper (Mrs. Pelham), and her daughter, Nancy."

"How long have they been with you?" Holmes asked.

"All of them have been with us for over three years, and we have found them to be very trustworthy people," Arterbury replied. "So, we went to the concert that afternoon, and all four of them were left in charge of the house, and of our two-year-old daughter, Lily. We returned home at a quarter to six, find Mrs. Pelham reprimanding her daughter for neglecting my daughter. It seems Lily crawled away and nearly gotten to the stairwell before the housekeeper saw her and brought her back to her room.

"That seemed to be the only thing that was amiss until my wife was putting her earrings away in her jewelry box in our bedroom, and saw that the necklace was not there. At first she thought that she must have left it somewhere else in her room, but could not find it anywhere. I was of the opinion that she had simply misplaced it, but she immediately insisted that this was impossible, and that it must have been stolen. I went to speak with the servants. I spoke with Mrs. Pelham first.

"I asked her, 'Do you know anything about my wife's emerald necklace?'

"'What do you mean?' she inquired, looking bewildered.

"'It's missing," I told her.

"'Missing!" she exclaimed.

"She seemed to know nothing at all about it, and I do not think that she could have been acting. Then I said the same thing to the butler and cook, and their reactions were nearly identical to Mrs. Pelham's. The butler is as honest as the day is long, and I believe him. I am not quite as certain about the cook, but as I said, he has been with us for three years.

"Next I spoke to Nancy. That was more interesting, and I'll try to tell you exactly what was said.

"'Would you happen to know anything about my wife's necklace?' I asked her.

"'No—what do you mean?" she replied, sounding flustered, which at first I attributed to her still being upset about letting my daughter out of her sight.

"'It's missing," I informed her.

"'Why, how on earth did that happen?' she said in an oddly monotone voice, as though she was unsurprised.

"'That's what I am trying to find out,' I said.

"'Oh,' she answered. 'Well, I'm afraid I can't help you, since I don't know where it could be. Er, I think I ought to be going now.' By the end of her statement, she sounded almost terrified. I really don't want to think the poor girl has taken the necklace, but I can think of no other explanation for her strange conduct. I have not told my wife that I suspect her; I simply told her that I didn't know who had taken it or where it might be."

"Perhaps you cannot, but if I can pay a visit to your residence, Mr. Arturbury, I may be able to shed some light on the matter," said Holmes.

"You can come right away, if it is convenient to you," Arturbury told them.

"Quite convenient," Holmes replied, rising from his seat.

"Then let us go there immediately," Arturbury said resolutely. He and Watson stood up as well. The cat shrunk back into the corner, anxious not to be discovered. The three men left, and the kitten remained hidden.

Sockball spent the next while following Mrs. Hudson about, and wondering if Holmes and Watson would be able to find Mrs. Arterbury's necklace. He wished he could go along on one of their cases, but Holmes neither liked nor appreciated him. These thoughts rankled until Sockball was left with no choice but to curl up in his basket and pout. It just wasn't fair! He knew he could be just as good at figuring things out as either of them.

He determined that whatever it took, he was going along the next time Holmes and Watson left on an investigation.

At about one-thirty, Sockball heard the front door open. He leapt from his basket and hopped up the stairs in time to see Holmes and Watson headed up to the sitting room. He slipped back in the back door and stopped when they started speaking.

"Have you drawn any conclusions yet?" asked Watson as they entered the room.

"Watson," Holmes sighed as he sank into his chair, "you know I do not reveal my suspicions until they can be verified!"

"Oh, come off it, just tell me," Watson urged, sitting down in his own chair and leaning forward, his expression full of determination and insatiable curiosity. "You think that it was the cook, don't you?"

"I refuse to speak another word until I have had some time to contemplate this case," he replied obstinately, grabbing his violin and bow from where they had been leaning against his chair. Closing his eyes, put the violin up to his chin.

"All right, but let me know if you want someone to talk it over with," Watson replied. "I have a few things to do; I'll come back down in an hour or so."

Holmes's only answer to close his eyes and play the opening bars of something Watson thought might have been written by Handel, but just as easily could have been of Holmes's own composition.

After Watson left, Sockball padded quietly into the room. He curled up in Watson's abandoned chair, listening to the music Holmes's violin and the sound of rain pattering outside and wondering how this case was all going to play out.

He eventually drifted off into a light doze in the comfortable chair, and was awakened some time later by a shout.

"Ha!" Holmes exclaimed, gently lying his violin down on the floor next to his chair. "Watson, I do believe I have it all worked out!" he shouted up the stairs.

"You do?!" Watson's voice drifted down the stairs. The detective and the kitten both heard the sound of a chair being shoved back and the Doctor's footsteps coming out of his room and down the stairs before they saw him. "That's wonderful!" he exclaimed as reached the foot of the stairs.

"Ha! It's so blatantly obvious, Watson!" Holmes explained, chuckling. "We are both fools for not seeing it before."

"Now you've gotten me curious!" Watson exclaimed. "What is it you've figured out?"

Sockball hopped onto the floor so Watson could sit down in his chair, then leapt back up onto his lap and stared fixedly at Holmes, wanting to know what Holmes had figured out almost as much as Watson did.

"The housekeeper," said Holmes. "What was she doing on that side of the house at any rate? According to Mrs. Pelham, she had been going about he duties, which at that time would more likely have been in the downstairs than the upstairs, since the cook mentioned that she had cleaned the upstairs right after Mr. and Mrs. Arterbury left. She wasn't up there doing her duties, she was up there trying to find the necklace."

"But why did she want to take the necklace?" Watson asked.

"Arterbury told us himself that she has been up to her ears in debt ever since her husband left her, and it was clear that she and the cook had a mutual dislike for one another, so perhaps she wanted to find employment elsewhere. Based on these two things, she was desperate enough to want to take the necklace and hide it, and then leave as soon as she could without drawing attention to herself and sell it so she could pay back the people she owed.

"The cook, being a rather shrewd fellow, must have found out that she intended to take the necklace, and then told Nancy that he knew this, and to make sure that she didn't take it. The poor girl was distraught, and did not know what to do, so she must have hidden it somewhere to keep her mother from taking it. At the same time, she didn't want to sell her mother out, and so she lied to us and Mr. Arterbury to protect her."

"Why, it all fits!" Watson exclaimed. "Holmes, you are brilliant! But where is the necklace now? Where would the girl have hidden it?"

"It is beyond my powers to find that out," he replied. "But if we go back, and present the girl with our evidence, perhaps she will give in and tell us where it is."

"And if not?" Watson asked.

"Then we shall confront Mrs. Pelham herself about the matter," Holmes replied. "I have little doubt that one or the other will give in and tell us. Let us go back immediately." He ran over to the kitchen stairs and shouted down. "MRS. HUDSON, WE ARE LEAVING AGAIN! WE SHOULD BE BACK IN AN HOUR OR SO!"

"But Mr. Holmes! It's raining!" Mrs. Hudson replied as she ascended the stairs. "You can't go out in this!"

Sockball was struck with a sudden idea, and leapt off of Watson's lap and bolted down the stairs to the front entry.

"We'll put on our coats and be quite all right," Watson replied as Mrs. Hudson came into view. "We shall be taking a cab to reach our destination, so we'll be dry for most of the time anyway."

"Whatever you say, Doctor, but don't come complaining to me if you two catch something!" she warned.

Holmes headed for the front hall to grab his coat, Watson at his heels. The threw on their lighter jackets and headed out into the pouring rain.

Little did either of them know that deep in the pocket of Watson's coat, Sockball lay hidden, more excited than he had ever been in his life. He was finally going along on a case!The kitten could barely contain his excitement for the cab ride, but somehow he was able to remain still enough that no one noticed his presence.

They soon reached the Arterbury's residence. It happened that Mr. Arterbury was at the front of the house at that moment, and when Holmes told him that he wished to question Nancy he told them that she was in the kitchen.

After Arterbury was out of earshot, Holmes said to Watson, "Let us take a small detour into the girl's room to see what we can see on the way there."

"All right, if we can find it," Watson answered, looking a little surprised.

"I found out which room was which earlier, Watson, not to worry," Holmes replied.

The headed down the hallway to the kitchen and servants' rooms, and entered the second bedroom, which Watson could immediately tell belonged to Nancy.

Holmes quickly dashed about the room, looking here and there. "I believe I have learned all I can here," he said after perhaps thirty seconds. "We ought to be getting to the kitchens anyway!"

The two of them turned to leave the room, and Sockball climbed to the edge of Watson's pocket and leapt out and into the room, sliding under the bed as quickly as he could.

"What was that sound?" Watson asked, pausing.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Holmes replied. "Come, Watson!" He struck off in that direction.

Watson glanced over his shoulder once more before following after him.

As soon as they were out of sight, Sockball crept out from under the bed. It was time to investigate.

Now, where would a girl hide a necklace, if she didn't want it found, and didn't have much time? Sockball wondered. Well, somewhere she thought no one would think to look, but no one would find it by accident. He looked about the very plainly furnished, fairly tidy bedroom for something that fit that description. Clothes dresser, A couple of small jewelry boxes, water pitcher on the table…hmm, there really wasn't much of anywhere to hide anything, was there?

A thought suddenly struck him. Perhaps it was hidden in the pile of laundry hidden in the corner! Since she was the housekeeper's daughter, she probably gathered up the laundry of the household, so no one would find it but her!

He bounded over to the pile, and dug through the clothing as quickly as he could, becoming a little disappointed when he didn't find anything. Just as he was about to give up hope, he caught a glimpse of something green and sparkly. Pushing an apron aside, he saw that it was the missing necklace!

He gathered up the necklace in his paws and then put it on over his head so that he could carry it, and skittered out of the door and down the hall to the kitchen.

He heard Holmes's strident voice. "…and I know that you know where it is, so please just tell us, Nancy, and we shall sort everything out."

"I—I swear, I don't know where it is!" a girl answered.

"Then we shall have to find it without your help. I wish that you would have been more cooperative."

At that moment, Sockball dashed into the kitchen and skidded to a halt, showing off his discovery proudly and meowing loudly to get everyone's attention.

"Well that wasn't too difficult," Watson remarked dryly, then did a double take. "Good heavens, is that Sockball?! How did he get here?"

"That's a strange name for a kitten," remarked Nancy. "Is he yours?"

"Our landlady's," Holmes replied. "He must have been hiding in one of our coat pockets without our knowledge. I think the bigger question is how he found the necklace."

Sockball took the necklace off and laid it on Holmes's foot, then trotted toward the doorway.

"I think he wants us to follow him," said the girl uncertainly.

"Nonsense, it's just a kitten, it's not that smart," Holmes said.

Sockball meowed indignantly in reply.

"He did find the necklace though," Watson reminded him. "Let's follow him."

The kitten led them too Nancy's bedroom, and right to the pile of dirty clothes where he proceeded to meow loudly and paw the apron.

"What the devil?!" Holmes exclaimed, bewildered by the kitten's actions.

"That's where I hid the necklace," said the girl. "I didn't think anyone would look there."

"Well, Sockball apparently did," Watson replied.

"How on earth am I going to tell my client that I was outdone by a kitten?!" asked Holmes, shaking his head.

Mr. and Mrs. Arterbury were both much relieved that their necklace had been restored to them, and did not much mind whether it was a detective or a kitten they had to thank.

Mrs. Hudson was quite worried about Sockball by the time Holmes and Watson returned home, but glowed with pride when they told her that he managed to find the necklace.

"I do believe that kitten idolizes you, Mr. Holmes," she informed him.

Sockball meowed proudly.