The wound was not serious, and the girl slept, if not peacefully, through the night. After tending her I retired to my room, however, Sherlock stayed by her side all night.
In the morning, I found him reclining in his chair, with a rather vile cloud of smoke wreathing both him and the sofa where the girl lay.
"Really, Holmes!" I said sharply, opening a window and fanning the smoke out. "It's not healthy for the young lady here..."
"She's been used to worse," Holmes said quietly.
"Holmes?"
He pushed back one of her sleeves to reveal several livid bruises, and a long, wicked scar.
"Orphaned at a young age, she has been quite obviously abused and the, shall we say, possession of an opium dealer. Roughly fifteen years of age and very skilled at picking locks - travels frequently from town to town. She is strong but easily beaten into submission, and unusually clever. Other than that..." Sherlock shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."
I was about to start in with my usual indignation when the girl stirred. Her eyes fluttered open but were unfocused and uncomprehending. Then she blinked, startled, and tried to sit up. She gave a hiss of pain as her injured arm protested.
Sherlock put his pipe down and helped the girl sit up. She took a deep breath and then gasped and swore.
"Where? What?" the girl said, then pushed Holmes away and jumped to her feet. She began to run away, quickly, towards the door but tripped over the rug. Holmes stood, caught her arm, and shoved her back to the couch, slipping the revolver from his pocket. He cocked it and aimed it towards the girl.
She gulped and blinked, then nodded fearfully and sat back.
"Very good then," Holmes said.
There was a knock on the door and I opened it. It was Mrs. Hudson, balancing a rather large breakfast tray. Seeming not to notice the girl, she bustled in, set the tray on the table, and left, muttering about laundry under her breath.
Holmes put the revolver away and sat at the table, uncovering the large dishes of steaming food.
"Ah, Watson. Won't you join me for breakfast?"
Confused, I sat down and helped myself to a plate. Sherlock was watching the girl as he spooned porridge into a bowl. He lifted the spoon to his mouth and, never taking his eyes off the girl, made a show of eating it.
With a snarl of desperation, the girl leapt for the table. Holmes put out an arm to stop her, then put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to sit. He put and empty plate in front of her and then held out a hot, buttered roll. She reached for it, her eyes wide with hunger. Holmes pulled it back.
"Your name?" he asked, holding the roll teasingly.
She hesitated. "Ana," she said, and snatched the roll from his hands. She devoured it in a matter of seconds.
"Tell me, Ana," Holmes said soothing, placing an egg on her plate and handing her a fork, "What is the name of your employer?"
Her mouth full of egg Ana replied, slightly muffled, "Some'imes 'enry Oakland. Some'imes 'e Po'fesser."
Holmes raised his eyebrows and placed another egg on her plate, "And what do you do for them?"
"Odd jobs."
"Like attempting to steal Dr. Watson's records?"
"Not usually. Just this once, then."
In this way Holmes continued to feed and pump the girl for information. This continued for half and hour. When they were both satisfied Holmes rang for Mrs. Hudson to come for the tray.
"Bless my soul!" Mrs. Hudson said, noticing Ana for the first time. "What a dirty little child! And what? Another of your clients?"
"Why, yes." Holmes said, with some amusement. "And I dare say she is in need of a good wash."
Ana's eyes widened.
"You come with me!" Mrs. Hudson said, balancing the tray in one arm and towing the girl behind her with the other. Ana made several sputtering protests as Mrs. Hudson dragged her out the door.
When they were gone Holmes sat back and laughed, lighting his pipe. He chuckled as he said, "Well, we've certainly got him now!"
"Who?" I said.
"'E Po'fesser," Holmes said, imitating Ana's voice. "The Professor, don't you see? Professor..."
"Not Moriarty!"
"Certain, my good fellow, who else? That girl is a gold mine!" Holmes took the pipe from his teeth and pointed it at me. "Do you realize what we have here? Someone who has actually worked for the Professor, almost directly if I'm not very much mistaken. She will know things that even my runners wouldn't..."
Holmes sat back and puffed his pipe contentedly, already lost in thought.
This was really too much for me, and for lack of anything better to do, I read the papers.
"There's been a second jewelry theft at Madame Winston's. Just last night," I mentioned.
"No!" Holmes sat upright.
"Yes, and apparently they got away with her famous diamond this time..."
"The canary diamond, am I right?"
"Yes."
Holmes drew it from his pocket. "Oh dear," he said.
I gasped at the beauty of the yellow stone. "But Holmes! Where...?"
"I found it in the pocket of our dear girl last night. But since it was not set in jewelry, I assumed it was payment for this job. No, this is the canary diamond, but I can tell it was not directly a Moriarty job. Had it been, this would not have been in the papers today, he's far too clever for that. But because the girl is employed by Moriarty, she has kept the stone, not to his knowledge. And now that it is in the papers, he knows she has it."
Holmes sat back, looking slightly overwhelmed himself. "Do you follow me?"
"It is a bit confusing," I admitted.
At that moment the door opened and Mrs. Hudson bustled in, towing the girl. "Now my niece happened to be visiting and she had outgrown this, so your girl can keep it. I dare say she needs it..."
Mrs. Hudson left us staring at Ana.
Clean, she really was quite pretty, and the simple blue dress matched her eyes. She twisted her hands together and avoided her eyes. Then she saw the stone and gasped.
Holmes said casually, "Yes, I know. But if you cooperate, I will not turn you in."
"Cooperate?"
Holmes' eyes shone with excitement. "How would we go about getting a written confession out of Moriarty - a confession big enough to put him in jail for life?"
Ana was silent, a mix of fear and distrust on her face.
"You would be under our protection," Holmes said softly. "I promise he will never hurt you under our care."
"It's easy," she said after a moment, looking at the floor. "The Professor keeps a log of the jobs he hires out. If you pretended you were interested, then... I, I could take you to the right people. But wouldn't you be recognized, Mr. Holmes?"
"I have, among other things, a talent for disguises. Are feeling well enough to take me this afternoon?"
Ana hesitated. Sherlock twirled the diamond in his fingers, eyebrows raised.
"Yes." She said, with a trace of resentment.
"We leave in half and hour," Holmes said, and stood. He handed me the revolver. "Watch her for me, there's a chap," he said and disappeared into his room, taking the diamond with him.
In the morning, I found him reclining in his chair, with a rather vile cloud of smoke wreathing both him and the sofa where the girl lay.
"Really, Holmes!" I said sharply, opening a window and fanning the smoke out. "It's not healthy for the young lady here..."
"She's been used to worse," Holmes said quietly.
"Holmes?"
He pushed back one of her sleeves to reveal several livid bruises, and a long, wicked scar.
"Orphaned at a young age, she has been quite obviously abused and the, shall we say, possession of an opium dealer. Roughly fifteen years of age and very skilled at picking locks - travels frequently from town to town. She is strong but easily beaten into submission, and unusually clever. Other than that..." Sherlock shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."
I was about to start in with my usual indignation when the girl stirred. Her eyes fluttered open but were unfocused and uncomprehending. Then she blinked, startled, and tried to sit up. She gave a hiss of pain as her injured arm protested.
Sherlock put his pipe down and helped the girl sit up. She took a deep breath and then gasped and swore.
"Where? What?" the girl said, then pushed Holmes away and jumped to her feet. She began to run away, quickly, towards the door but tripped over the rug. Holmes stood, caught her arm, and shoved her back to the couch, slipping the revolver from his pocket. He cocked it and aimed it towards the girl.
She gulped and blinked, then nodded fearfully and sat back.
"Very good then," Holmes said.
There was a knock on the door and I opened it. It was Mrs. Hudson, balancing a rather large breakfast tray. Seeming not to notice the girl, she bustled in, set the tray on the table, and left, muttering about laundry under her breath.
Holmes put the revolver away and sat at the table, uncovering the large dishes of steaming food.
"Ah, Watson. Won't you join me for breakfast?"
Confused, I sat down and helped myself to a plate. Sherlock was watching the girl as he spooned porridge into a bowl. He lifted the spoon to his mouth and, never taking his eyes off the girl, made a show of eating it.
With a snarl of desperation, the girl leapt for the table. Holmes put out an arm to stop her, then put a hand on her shoulder and forced her to sit. He put and empty plate in front of her and then held out a hot, buttered roll. She reached for it, her eyes wide with hunger. Holmes pulled it back.
"Your name?" he asked, holding the roll teasingly.
She hesitated. "Ana," she said, and snatched the roll from his hands. She devoured it in a matter of seconds.
"Tell me, Ana," Holmes said soothing, placing an egg on her plate and handing her a fork, "What is the name of your employer?"
Her mouth full of egg Ana replied, slightly muffled, "Some'imes 'enry Oakland. Some'imes 'e Po'fesser."
Holmes raised his eyebrows and placed another egg on her plate, "And what do you do for them?"
"Odd jobs."
"Like attempting to steal Dr. Watson's records?"
"Not usually. Just this once, then."
In this way Holmes continued to feed and pump the girl for information. This continued for half and hour. When they were both satisfied Holmes rang for Mrs. Hudson to come for the tray.
"Bless my soul!" Mrs. Hudson said, noticing Ana for the first time. "What a dirty little child! And what? Another of your clients?"
"Why, yes." Holmes said, with some amusement. "And I dare say she is in need of a good wash."
Ana's eyes widened.
"You come with me!" Mrs. Hudson said, balancing the tray in one arm and towing the girl behind her with the other. Ana made several sputtering protests as Mrs. Hudson dragged her out the door.
When they were gone Holmes sat back and laughed, lighting his pipe. He chuckled as he said, "Well, we've certainly got him now!"
"Who?" I said.
"'E Po'fesser," Holmes said, imitating Ana's voice. "The Professor, don't you see? Professor..."
"Not Moriarty!"
"Certain, my good fellow, who else? That girl is a gold mine!" Holmes took the pipe from his teeth and pointed it at me. "Do you realize what we have here? Someone who has actually worked for the Professor, almost directly if I'm not very much mistaken. She will know things that even my runners wouldn't..."
Holmes sat back and puffed his pipe contentedly, already lost in thought.
This was really too much for me, and for lack of anything better to do, I read the papers.
"There's been a second jewelry theft at Madame Winston's. Just last night," I mentioned.
"No!" Holmes sat upright.
"Yes, and apparently they got away with her famous diamond this time..."
"The canary diamond, am I right?"
"Yes."
Holmes drew it from his pocket. "Oh dear," he said.
I gasped at the beauty of the yellow stone. "But Holmes! Where...?"
"I found it in the pocket of our dear girl last night. But since it was not set in jewelry, I assumed it was payment for this job. No, this is the canary diamond, but I can tell it was not directly a Moriarty job. Had it been, this would not have been in the papers today, he's far too clever for that. But because the girl is employed by Moriarty, she has kept the stone, not to his knowledge. And now that it is in the papers, he knows she has it."
Holmes sat back, looking slightly overwhelmed himself. "Do you follow me?"
"It is a bit confusing," I admitted.
At that moment the door opened and Mrs. Hudson bustled in, towing the girl. "Now my niece happened to be visiting and she had outgrown this, so your girl can keep it. I dare say she needs it..."
Mrs. Hudson left us staring at Ana.
Clean, she really was quite pretty, and the simple blue dress matched her eyes. She twisted her hands together and avoided her eyes. Then she saw the stone and gasped.
Holmes said casually, "Yes, I know. But if you cooperate, I will not turn you in."
"Cooperate?"
Holmes' eyes shone with excitement. "How would we go about getting a written confession out of Moriarty - a confession big enough to put him in jail for life?"
Ana was silent, a mix of fear and distrust on her face.
"You would be under our protection," Holmes said softly. "I promise he will never hurt you under our care."
"It's easy," she said after a moment, looking at the floor. "The Professor keeps a log of the jobs he hires out. If you pretended you were interested, then... I, I could take you to the right people. But wouldn't you be recognized, Mr. Holmes?"
"I have, among other things, a talent for disguises. Are feeling well enough to take me this afternoon?"
Ana hesitated. Sherlock twirled the diamond in his fingers, eyebrows raised.
"Yes." She said, with a trace of resentment.
"We leave in half and hour," Holmes said, and stood. He handed me the revolver. "Watch her for me, there's a chap," he said and disappeared into his room, taking the diamond with him.