"Misters Edward Kendrick and Rodrick Baines," Mrs. Hudson announced, and Edward led the way into the sitting room, his coworker a step behind him.

Mr. Baines was taller than I, with dark hair and a skin tone slightly darker than Henry's. He carried a small bag over one shoulder, and each step betrayed the faintest bit of hesitance. He was nervous as to why he had been called here, possibly because he had been planning to consult us himself. He quickly scanned the room before focusing on us.

"Mr. Holmes," he greeted accurately. "Doctor Watson. Edward tells me you wish to speak with me?"

"That is correct," Holmes answered, waving both men toward the settee. They sat with their backs to the landing as Holmes continued, "though I perceive you would have come to see me soon enough anyway."

Surprise appeared in Mr. Baines' expression. "I planned to telegram later tonight for a consultation tomorrow. How did you know?"

Holmes gestured to the bag. "You would hardly bring a bag to supper with a friend, and you would only have brought its contents with you if they pertained to a case."

Mr. Baines reflexively glanced at the bag at his feet, nodding.

"I was hoping you could help us find my nephew," he told us. "He ran away from his lowlife of a father, and we believe he is in the Birmingham area."

"Who is 'we'?"

"His mother and I," he clarified. "Emily is my sister-in-law, though we had never met before Henry went missing. Matthew has been a raging drunk since he was in school, and I stopped keeping track of him years ago. I did not know he had a child until I saw Henry's picture on the public notice board. He looks just like Matthew did at that age."

Henry doesn't know him.

Holmes leaned back in his chair, his concentration never leaving Mr. Baines though I knew he had seen Tim's signal as well.

"Describe Henry."

"His full name is Henry Charles Baines. He is about four feet tall, with light hair and blue eyes, and he turned six last September. Here is his picture."

He passed a sheet of paper to Holmes, who studied it for only a moment before handing it to me. The sketch resembled Henry closely, but it omitted a couple of scars on his face and appeared slightly too young.

"Where did he live with his mother?" I asked, setting the paper aside.

"Seventeen Apple Tree Way, Birmingham."

That was close enough we could have found it from Henry's description, and Holmes moved to a new line of questions.

"If his father is such a blackguard," Holmes asked, "why was Henry with him?"

"Matthew kidnapped Henry." Confusion crossed his face when I glared at Edward. My uncle had opened his mouth, but Mr. Baines needed to answer without Edward's input. "We do not know how," Rodrick added, "but we fear by force. Emily came home to check on him at midday to find a skeleton key in the lock, a bag packed, and Henry gone. She says Henry would never have willingly gone with his father. They escaped Matthew barely a year ago, and the memories of living with him were still far too fresh for Henry to want to return."

"Is there any way Matthew could have convinced him?" I asked.

Mr. Baines started to shake his head, then paused, thinking. "Emily mentioned a code," he slowly answered. "I do not know all the details, but she said they had one word for if there was danger and another for if Emily had to send someone else to get Henry. I suppose Henry would have gone if he thought Emily had said it was safe, but I cannot imagine she would have chosen a phrase Matthew could guess."

Holmes finally settled into this thinking position, and his fingers met in front of his mouth. "Do you know what they were?"

Papa and Teddy Bear Picnic.

Mr. Baines shook his head. "The one for if Emily sent someone for Henry was something about picnicking bears, but she only mentioned the system in passing."

"Where is Matthew now?"

"Jail," Mr. Baines answered firmly. "I led Emily and the local police to Matthew's rented house that night. We found Matthew drunkenly destroying the sitting room, but Henry was gone. He left a bloody handprint on the open window, and he did not even take his dog with him."

"His dog?" I repeated.

"A toy." He dug through the bag at his feet, quickly pulling out a small, yellowish dog. The animal was obviously well loved, if the lack of fur and one drooping eye was any indication, and an aborted noise came from the bedroom.

Dog's name is does, but with an F.

Fuzz, I realized, hiding my amusement. I supposed it could have fit at one time, but the dog was more cloth than fur, now.

"Emily gave it to him when he was three," Mr. Baines continued, apparently never hearing the small sound, "and she asked me to bring it to you. Fuzz, I think she called it, would serve as a scent to give a tracking dog, though I doubt any trail could have survived more than a couple of days."

"Unlikely," Holmes agreed, studying the small toy. "Where in the house did you find it?"

"In a kitchen cabinet, of all places." Mr. Baines shook his head. "Perhaps Henry was trying to hide it from Matthew, but that would not explain why he left it behind. Emily feared he was dead when she found it. She only calmed when I suggested Henry had not been able to reach the kitchen without Matthew's notice."

"And could he?"

He nodded sheepishly. "The house has an interconnecting hallway, and even if Matthew was in the sitting room, Henry should have been able to sneak into the kitchen. Emily was too distraught to think of that."

He is mad he did not think to search the kitchen. He learned a few words from his father. Can we come out now? Henry wants his dog.

"How long ago was this?" Holmes asked as I shifted in my seat. No. Stay.

"Matthew was arrested just over a month ago," he replied, glancing at me.

"And how long was Henry with his father?"

"Two weeks."

That matched the injuries I had treated. How he had survived in that house for two weeks I had no idea, but many of the differences between Henry now and the sketch still on the table beside me could be attributed to his time with his father. When Jimmy had found him, Henry had been malnourished, covered in bruises, had multiple cuts, and was more skittish than a wild horse. He had yelped and tried to run from Jimmy, then from me, and it had taken several minutes for him to agree to let me treat his injuries back at the flat. Judging by his behavior over the last week, Matthew had beaten him for speaking, for staying quiet, for standing too closely, for standing too far away, and for being hungry. Henry had only relaxed in the last day or two as the older Irregulars showed that not everyone would hurt him, and I would have loved to get my hands on the man who had scarred the boy so badly.

Any man who would do such a thing, much less to a child, deserved to become a training dummy for the Irregulars. It was probably a good thing Matthew had already been jailed.

"Will you help us?" Mr. Baines asked when Holmes did not voice another question.

"Where is Mrs. Emily?" he asked instead of answering.

"Birmingham," he confirmed. "I am only in London today because my work sent me, but she would be on the first train south if needed. Mr. Attison, her boss, has been very accommodating throughout this entire nightmare."

I looked at Holmes, silently asking if he agreed with me, and he studied Mr. Baines for only a moment longer before he nodded.

"You can come out, boys," I said, watching Mr. Baines closely.

Rustling immediately sounded from the other room, and both men turned at the noise. Edward grinned when he realized Henry was here.

Timothy and Henry walked out side by side, the older boy still following Omega Protocol and firmly holding Henry back. Henry's eyes locked on the stuffed dog and stayed there, completely ignoring his uncle.

"Henry!" The name came out as a simultaneous cry of surprise and breath of relief, and he smiled widely from his seat. "Here," he said, offering the beloved toy to its owner without moving any closer. I was heartened to note that he seemed to realize Henry would be wary of him. It made his story more likely to be true.

Timothy stepped forward at my nod, one hand still on Henry's shoulder as the other completed the transfer, and Henry immediately hugged the toy to his chest.

"How did you get all the way to London, Henry?" Mr. Baines asked.

Henry made no answer, hiding halfway behind Tim, and I spoke instead.

"The leader of the Irregulars found him sleeping in a rubbish bin a week ago. He would not tell us from where he had come, but he has been safely with the other children ever since."

"The Irregulars?" Rodrick repeated. "You mean Wiggins and the rest?"

Edward looked between us. "Who are the Irregulars?"

"Many of those children work for us," I replied. "They help us with our cases, gathering intel by listening in places we cannot go, and the older children support the younger ones on their wages. Wiggins aged out years ago, Mr. Baines, and he now works for the Yard, but yes, it is the same group I mentioned in A Study in Scarlet."

"Call me Rodrick," he said, waving off the title as he turned toward Timothy. "Are you one of the Irregulars?"

Keep distance for comfort, Holmes told him. Answer what you like.

"Yessir." Timothy moved towards us, giving the settee a wide berth and sharing the ottoman with Henry. "My name's Tim. My parents died when I was five, and Mr. Holmes found me lookin' for food. He brought me here, where I met several of the older boys working for them at the time, and I started helpin' with cases a couple of years later. Us bigger boys, and a couple of girls, take care of the younger ones, and Henry stuck with me this week while gettin' used to the new place." His arm snaked around Henry's shoulders again, and Henry leaned into it. "Our cubby is cozy—much better than a rubbish bin, eh Henry?"

Henry nodded shyly, still clutching his toy as if it might run away from him. "An' safe. No hitting."

Rodrick swallowed visibly. "What did he do to you?" he nearly whispered.

Henry's face disappeared into Tim's shoulder.

"Suffice to say Henry was in need of medical attention when we found him," Holmes answered instead. "You said Mrs. Emily can be here in the morning?"

"Yes." Rodrick's gaze never left Henry. "I can set up a spot for him on the settee in my hotel room tonight. Emily will be on the first train south."

Henry had perked up at the mention of his mother, but he hid behind Tim again at the idea of staying with Rodrick. I shook my head. I had told him he would return to the Irregulars' headquarters once more, anyway.

"He will be perfectly safe with us." I countered. "Wire Mrs. Emily's train information when you have it, and we will plan to meet you here an hour after her train arrives."

He glanced between us. "But—"

"Rodrick." Edward's hand landed on his arm, cutting off the protest. "Look at him. Henry doesn't want to go with you. He doesn't know you any more than he does me, and he has been scared enough this last month. He will be perfectly safe whether he spends the night in this flat or with the other children."

"If they are just employees—" he started, glancing at us as his face reddened. He obviously cared about Henry despite never having met him.

"The Irregulars are not employees, Rodrick. They are children. Every child I saw today is just as much John's and Mr. Holmes' as Henry is Mrs. Emily's. John and Mr. Holmes rushed across town to deal with an intruder when one of the boys came for help, and John nearly drew his sword on me when I recognized Henry. They will not let anything happen to Henry, and Henry will be more comfortable with them."

Rodrick hesitated a moment longer but finally nodded. "How did you find Henry?" he asked. "And why did you not tell me?"

Edward quickly summarized how he had come to be with us earlier, wisely omitting any reference to where the headquarters was. "John told me not to say anything specific," he finished.

"We needed to ensure your story matched Henry's," I added, "and that was best done with you ignorant of Henry's location. Henry is not the first child to escape from such a situation, and you would not have been the first relative to claim to be someone else in order to take him back."

"That is why they were in the other room?"

"Yes," Holmes replied. "Tim conveyed Henry's reactions and answers while we talked. We would have known immediately if you were Henry's father, and the Yard would have been here soon enough."

"Well, then." He turned to where Henry watched from his place beside Tim. "I will wire your mother as soon as I can reach a telegraph office," he promised. "She will probably arrive an hour or so after sunrise."

Henry stared at him for a moment, apparently absorbing that. "She's coming for me?" he quietly asked, disbelief leaking into the words despite the last thirty minutes of conversation.

"Of course she is!" The abrupt surprise made Henry jump, and Rodrick looked at us as Tim whispered in the boy's ear.

"His father knew their code phrase," I answered the silent question. "He told Henry first that Mrs. Emily would meet them later, then that she had decided she liked being alone better. He has spent the last six weeks thinking she abandoned him with his father."

"Oh, Henry." The sadness in those words caught the boy's attention, and Rodrick slowly leaned forward to force eye contact. "Your mother has been looking for you everywhere and every day," he said firmly. "The police, her work, my work, and everyone that has ever met the two of you have been hanging flyers and tracing leads in Birmingham and every town in a twenty-mile radius. We did not expect you to make it to London, but she will take whatever train will get her here the fastest. I daresay she would walk if the trains stopped running. She is coming for you, Henry."

The first large smile I had ever seen slowly split the boy's face. "How long until sunrise?"

Rodrick chuckled. "Short enough, I suppose, provided you get some sleep. It is getting late. Is there anything I can do for tonight?"

Holmes shook his head. "Just send us Mrs. Emily's train information when you have it."

He nodded, gaining his feet. "I will leave you to your evening, then." He focused on Edward, who was still seated. "Are you coming?"

Edward looked toward me, his question obvious, and I considered for only a moment.

"You will still be in town tomorrow?" I asked. It was growing late, and while I was glad to have my uncle back, he did not need to know how badly I was paying for overdoing it today. I would be more mobile in the morning, but I would reconsider if he was supposed to be leaving tomorrow.

"Yes," he answered. "The storms today will close the fair until at least noon. Longer if more roll in. I will be in London for as long as the Hope Fest is ongoing, and they never cancel. Only postpone."

We would have all day tomorrow, in that case, and he would probably be in town for at least five more days. Tomorrow would have more rain than today, and I rather doubted I would be able to leave the flat.

"Keep your supper plans with Rodrick," I told him, double checking Holmes did not indicate a problem with this, "and come early tomorrow morning. We can catch up before Rodrick and Mrs. Emily arrive and after they leave until you must go to work."

"I will be here," he said immediately, his smile nearly as large as Henry's. "Is around seven-thirty alright?"

We would both be up by then, and I nodded as Edward joined Rodrick. Holmes showed them to the door to cover that I could not leave my chair, and I tried to ignore the spasms shooting through both shoulder and leg. Several moments of conversation slipped by me before I could listen again, however.

"Take some meat and cheese with you," Holmes was saying when I refocused. "The first train from Birmingham arrives at eight, so they will be here at nine. Timothy, will you help with that?" Henry could not always accurately read a clock, and that was one thing the others had started to teach him over the last week.

"A'course, Mr. Holmes," Tim replied. "Henry won't be late to meet his Mum, will you, Henry?"

The smaller boy quickly shook his head. "When is nine?"

"You tell me." Tim quickly claimed some food from the table then nudged Henry toward the door, waving at us on the way out. "The minute hand is easy…"

His voice faded down the stairs, and I grabbed another piece of meat and readjusted in my chair.

"How bad?"

I scowled at him but answered. "Enough I will probably sleep on the settee tonight," I admitted. "The storm plus wearing the brace for nearly an hour…" I let the sentence trail off with a shrug. He knew what aggravated my old injuries, and I had been hurting for a week due to the spring storms soaking the city. "Speaking of which," I added, "where is that brace?"

"Under your desk," he answered, "as is your bag."

I nodded my thanks, and silence fell as we ate. Holmes stayed nearby when I slowly limped to the settee, but he soon disappeared into his room, leaving me staring at the ceiling and thinking about tomorrow.

I did not think about it for long. Tired from a long day, I was asleep in minutes.

It seems Edward was telling the truth. Hope nobody's too sad about that :) Don't forget to drop a comment!

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