Third chapter! It took me a while, but I think I finally have this story laid out. Kind of. I'm making it up as I go along. I have the ending all worked out, but not the beginning. First, I want to begin by saying Thank You to everyone. I don't care if you despise what I write or love it, thank you. For what? For reading this story. Ok, enough of the sentimental stuff, lets get cracking!

Chapter Three: Unexpected Information

I slept uneasily that night, wondering how Irene would react to the fact that Marie was a killer. Of course, Holmes might just tell her she's dead. But either way, she would have to meet Charise.

Charise was a nice enough woman, with a fondness for Holmes. But she was very much like Fredrick Holmes, and would punish him easily and quickly. Half of the time Holmes would come up to me during school and tell me he was grounded because he talked during dinner. I worried that Irene would hate Charise, and I hoped she wouldn't do anything irrational.

When I got to school the next morning I met Holmes in our customary spot by the building. He stood there silently for a few minutes, until I got the courage to ask the question I knew was on both of our minds.

"How did Irene take Charise?" I asked quietly. Holmes shrugged.

"Fine," he replied.

"How did she take the fact that her Mother was gone?" I inquired. Holmes grimaced.

"Not so well. She promptly started storming about the house screaming. She said that it wasn't fair that Mother should be dead, that if anything she herself should be dead," Holmes answered. I winced.

"You didn't tell her about our little incident with Marie?" I asked. Holmes shook his head.

"No. She'll ask, though. Irene is very inquisitive and will ask who hurt your arm. And why," he muttered. I sighed.

"This is going to be tough. Did you tell her about the fact you were in a coma?" I pressed. Holmes looked up.

"Bell," he said, and began walking toward the door. I ran to catch up with him.

"Uh uh. No way. You didn't tell her?" I demanded. Holmes sighed.

"Once again I say that their is no possible way I can keep a secret from you. No, I didn't tell her," Holmes responded. I groaned.

"God Holmes. You didn't have the decency to tell her? She'll find out, you know. Women always do," I mused. Holmes chuckled.

"You're living proof of that," he laughed. I smiled.

"So what is going on after school?" I asked. Holmes looked at me.

"We must talk to Raze. To see if she's learned anything."

Raze was the leader of the Baker Street (no longer Baker Street, since they had moved) Irregulars. She spoke with a cockney accent, which I later found out was pure acting, and had bright blue hair. She was bold, and rather annoying at times. I nodded.

"What about Thomas. Raze said that he's the spy. Wouldn't he have learned more?" I questioned. Holmes nodded.

"Yes, except that he usually doesn't talk much. He relays all the information to Raze, and she promptly gives it to me," replied Holmes. I shrugged.

"I wouldn't know. I've never officially met him. Just a nod in passing."

"Well, you'll meet him later today. See you in class." Holmes and I departed to go to class.

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"So you're telling me this Dupin guy is an idiot?" I questioned as Holmes and I raced down the street toward the place the Irregulars stayed. Holmes waved his hand at me.

"But of course. Any fool could have seen that the letter would be placed in the letter holder. It made me ill just to think that he guessed on half of the things he spoke of. He's absurd," Holmes responded. He stopped at the alley way that we had been looking for.

"Here we are. Knock thrice, tap twice," recited Holmes. I looked at the wooden door dubiously.

"Are you sure this is the place?" I wondered aloud. Holmes rolled his eyes.

"Of course. Here." Holmes reached over and knocked three times, then tapped on the door twice. Then the door swung open, much to my surprise.

We entered through the doorway and I looked around. We had entered a small, dingy place, with boxes galore. There were cobwebs and dust everywhere, and it looked as if no one lived there.

"Holmes, are you absolutely positive that this is the place? Are you sure you might not have been mistaken?" I asked. Holmes snorted.

"Really Watson. Use your eyes. There are clothes in the corner, and you can see hair scrunchies, the kind both Jimmy and Raze use. And the fact that Roberto is standing in the corner proves it," Holmes resolved.

Indeed, the boy stood in the corner. He stepped out as soon as Holmes announced his presence and said something in rapid Arab (A.N. What do Arab people speak? Anyone want to tell me?).

Holmes smiled. "Of course Roberto. Did Raze say when she'd be back?"

Once again, Roberto said something in the language which I did not know. Holmes nodded.

"If you don't mind, I think we'll just wait for them," Holmes reassured Roberto. Roberto nodded and went back to whatever he was doing. I looked at Holmes.

"You understand what he's saying?" I asked. Holmes nodded and pulled up a few boxes for us to sit on.

"I make it my job to understand what the Irregulars are saying. You should to," Holmes informed me. I laughed.

"Really Holmes. You know that I have no ear for languages. What did he say?"

"Well, the first time he said that Raze was out and about, and the second time he said that she was to be back anytime now."

"So we have to wait for her?"

"Yes."

And so we waited. And waited. And waited, until about a quarter past four I turned to Holmes and sighed.

"Is she ever going to show up?" I snarled. Holmes glared at me.

"She'll show up. Raze stays to the job, and won't stop until she has something to tell me," Holmes snapped. Apparently, he was getting impatient as well.

Finally, at half past four, the door was slammed open, and the profile of a girl and boy filled the doorway. Holmes rose.

"Ah, Raze, Thomas. It's good to see you. Sit down, please. We have much to talk about," Holmes stated. Raze entered from the door frame and looked at us in shock.

"Well then Mr. 'Olmes. Tis good to see ya, tis quite good. Thomas and me 'ere, we 'ave much to talk to yer about," Raze spoke in her odd Cockney accent. Holmes waved his hand at her, signaling that the pleasantries were dispersed, now to business. Raze and Thomas sat down and looked at us across the table that they had set up.

"Not much is being talked about Mr. Holmes. Someone put a lid on whatever gossip that we could have gotten to," Raze began. I was shocked to hear that her Cockney was gone, and she spoke with a pleasant sounding Welsh accent. It was carefully hidden, however, and she managed to sound like an educated upperclassman. Holmes frowned.

"Do you have anything for me to work with?" pressed Holmes. Thomas leaned forward.

"We have little, as Rachel told you. We did manage to get the names of all the girls drowned, and some possible suspects names. We're sorry Mr. Holmes, we did the best we could," Thomas said. Holmes sighed.

"Let us hear what you have," he muttered. Thomas brought forth an envelope.

"First girl dead was Sandra Nutraye. She was seventeen. The suspects for her are James Nutraye and Robert Pilisolve," Thomas read. Raze reached over and snatched the envelope from his hands.

"Second girl was Amy Tawas, age fourteen. The suspect for her is Lisa Kedsworth," Raze revealed. Thomas took the papers back.

"Third was Ashley Cadsbare. Fifteen. No suspects."

"Fourth was Kirsten Drivigandi, thirteen. No suspects."

"Fifth and final was Olivia Cardia. No suspects as of yet," Thomas finished. Holmes gravely took the papers.

"Essentially, we have nothing. Why don't the last three have suspects?" Holmes asked. Thomas and Raze looked at each other.

"Somebody shut the people up before we could finish our questions," Raze publicized. Holmes nodded and stood.

"Thank you. You've been a great deal of help. May I keep these papers?" inquired Holmes. Thomas nodded. Holmes tossed a couple of pounds on the table.

"Go buy dinner," he flung back at them as we left the dark room.

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"They don't even have a common link between them!" Holmes shouted, disgusted. I shrank back.

"Well, maybe somebody really did manage to shut them up," I whispered.

"I think not!" called a sing-song voice from the shadows. Holmes whirled around and out stepped Irene.

"The investigation isn't going well, I take it?" Irene sang. Holmes sighed.

"Irene, what are you doing here?" he asked. Irene frowned.

"Darling Sherlock, you're not the only detective in the family. I did a little bit of investigating on my own. They did have a common link between them, they did. You just had to go to the center of it all," Irene spat. Holmes looked down.

"I'm sorry Irene. Bit frustrated. What did you find?" murmured Holmes. Irene grinned.

"Much better. You know, back in the olden days, brothers were taught to worship there sisters, as angels," Irene stated. Holmes scowled at her.

"Irene..." Holmes growled. Irene sighed.

"All right, all right. Jeez, take a chill pill as my friends in America would say. The common link between them is..." Irene trailed off. Holmes looked at her expectantly.

"Well?" he asked. Irene looked down.

"First of all, you told me Mother was dead. Why'd you lie to me?" Irene said quietly. Holmes started and stared at her.

"Why-why do you think Mother is alive?" Holmes stuttered. Irene laughed.

"I'm not nearly as smart as you, Sherlock, but I'm not stupid. The common link between them is Marie Moriarty. They all hired her to do their dirty work. Mother's maiden name? Marie Moriarty," Irene illustrated. Holmes sighed and leaned against a building.

"Watson, care to explain?" asked Holmes. I looked at him sadly.

"She was bound to find out. Irene, you're right, Marie is alive. She is the reason my arm is in a cast. She tried to kill Holmes and I last time we saw her. She nearly succeeded in doing so. She had one of her minions poison Holmes, shoot at me, and in the final battle, he lit a fire which nearly killed both of us. He was knocked unconscious, Marie appeared, broke my arm, got into a fight with Holmes, stabbed Holmes, ran away, and left us to die in the fire," I told her. Irene stared at us in shock, then regained her composure.

"I'm sorry that I doubted that Mother was dead. She is. Marie Moriarty is not, however, and she is the common link between all the girls," Irene began again. Holmes quickly stood and 'put on his thinking cap' as it were.

"Indeed. How did you find this out?" he asked. Irene looked up at him.

"I went to the center of things, of course. I found her second in command, quite by accident. He was at a bar, and I bought him a few drinks. He identified himself as Marie's second, then after a quick round of drinks, he told me almost everything," Irene said. Holmes glowered.

"Half truths, Irene, do not suit you. What were you doing in the bar?" he asked. Irene scowled at him.

"Fine. To think I could lie to the great Sherlock Holmes. I knew about Marie, all right. She and I... were associates for a time. I left the business, however, when things got a little to warm for my taste. I didn't really do anything. I didn't even know she was a criminal. I thought she was running a respectable business," Irene admitted.

"You WORKED FOR HER!" Holmes screamed. Irene winced.

"For one month! I swear that was all! After I ran away, I went to this warehouse place. I didn't even know it was Mother! She came forward and offered me a place to stay. I agreed! I ran errands for her sometimes, went to a guy named Danny, and occasionally watched people. I only know her second because I thought he was a man friend. Please don't be angry," Irene whimpered. Holmes breathed deeply.

"Irene, when did you find out about Marie?" I piped up. Irene looked at me.

"The day before I went to America, before I ran away from England. I overheard her talking, and someone called her Marie Holmes. She snapped and started screaming that she wasn't her anymore, that she was Marie Moriarty," Irene whispered. Holmes nodded.

"I'm sorry Irene. I shouldn't have gotten so angry," Holmes told her, in high spirits again. Irene grinned.

"That is right, Sherlock, you shouldn't of. Ah, to live in the olden days. To be an angel..." Irene smiled.

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"Holmes, will you sit down!" I yelped. Holmes trod back and forth over my carpet. We had left Irene on her own, and we now sat in my bedroom.

"I can't sit. I must think. A man strangled those girls. He was obviously under the employ of Marie, but who is he? Water washed away all the evidence! How in the world am I to get evidence if it's gone?" Holmes snapped. I leaned back on my bed.

"Perhaps the girls were connected in some other way," I murmured. Holmes was seriously vexing me. Holmes looked at me.

"What do you mean?" he asked. I rolled over and looked at him.

"I don't know. That's your job. Tomorrow we can look for clues, all right? The riverbed has to have something," I replied. Holmes sighed and sat down in my rocking chair.

"All right," he muttered. I smiled.

"Go to bed Holmes. You're going to fall asleep on your feet," I said. No reply came. When I looked over at him, he was fast asleep in my rocking chair. I looked at him gently, pulled out a blanket from my closet, set it over him, and went to sleep.

Well, that is it so far. What do you think? Just thought you people might like some more info on Irene. More to come soon I hope. Please review. If you're going to flame me, please make it easy enough that I can bear. I'm very sensitive *sniff*.