Chapter 9
Holmes smiled amicably at Dr. Higgins as the two of them chatted. The older (at least by appearances) man had one of those kindly trusting faces, that no doubt helped greatly in his efforts to swindle couples from their money, hard earned or otherwise. He was the sort of man Holmes despised. The sort of man who preyed on human emotions and exploited it for his own personal gain. Of course he carefully kept his disgust off of his face and out of his voice.
As he continued to talk, he tried not to think about what his own motives last night had been. Certainly not to do what Lestrade had implied waterbeds had been made for. He could feel his cheeks heating with a blush at the thought, irritably brushed it off. He would most likely need to take a long vacation when this case was over. Though he didn't show it, the future took a lot more out of him than anything he had done in Victorian England. After all, though he was young in appearance, he was still at least eighty plus years in mind.
After a while, Higgins began to squirm in his seat like an impatient child with choice news, who was being asked by his parents not to interrupt. Holmes frowned, as he too began to wonder what was taking Lestrade so long to simply change clothes. He offered an apologetic smile and walked towards the bedroom. A seconds debate over whether or not to knock before entering warred within him before the need to keep up appearances outweighed propriety, and he walked in.
To his surprise, Lestrade was sitting on the ground hugging her knees to her chest. Her old clothes lay on the floor beside her, and she had put on a shirt at least, though the trendy black skirt that went with it also lay on the floor. He frowned and knelt beside her, placing one hand on her shoulder. She jerked away from him and gazed at him with wide, frightened eyes before recognition set in. She pointed at the floor in front of the door.
His frown growing deeper, he looked at the spot. There was a russet colored stain that somebody had tried to cover up, but had obviously failed. Upon closer inspection, it traveled from the door to where the bed was, but dissapeared after that. There were also tracks in the wood, made most likely by someone moving furniture around. Judging by the width and color of the scratches it had been a while. And that russet color could have been made by only one thing: blood, though it too was probably at least as old as the scratches. He told Lestrade all this.
"Lestrade?" he questioned, coming back to sit by her.
She had been watching him the whole time, and now she simply shook her head and smiled unconvincingly. "I guess I'm just a little shaken up by all that's going on. Um..just let me finish getting dressed."
He nodded, but didn't leave the room. Instead he stood and faced the doorway. When Higgins left, he and Lestrade would have to have a talk.
Interlude
Everything was going perfect. Just the way she liked it. Perfection wasn't, as some people thought, the absense of faults. No, perfection was the little pieces coming together in a way as to make something better than it was before. Like the babies. They were taken from people who could not possibly give them good lives, and given to people who could give them everything they needed.
And like her experiment. Soon, the results of that experiment would be known to the world. But not before she erased past mistakes.
Wiggins waited patiently for the other two to arrive. He had followed the man called Higgins out of the building, and then gone straight to one of the Underground hidey holes he, Deidre and Tennyson used as a base of operations. For a few minutes he had debated on whether or not to track that man down and follow him to where he was pretty sure Holmes and Lestrade were, so he could tell the detective what he knew. However, Mister Holmes had told them not to place themselves in danger, and going there was probably the fastest way of doing so. So, he called Deidre, who in turn called Tennyson, and the three of them would have a short little meeting to see what each of them had found.
It didn't take long for the other to reach their destination, and Wiggins told Tennyson to report first. The younger boy had nothing of interest to report, except that Watson had seemed impatient with him, something the compudroid had never shown around any of them. Wiggins nodded, feeling oddly like he was taking Mister Holmes' place.
"Well, what I've got isn't much to go on either," Deidre said, "Except that Inspector Lestrade's real name is Elizabeth Juliet Canton. She had it legally changed to Lestrade when she was fifteen. Why, I have no idea. Anyway, guess who her father is? Dr. Canton. You know, the one who does all Tennyson's work?" The girl grinned, looking extremely pleased with herself. "Not only that, but Gregson seems to know more about that family than they do themselves. It's almost like he's been stalking Inspector Lestrade or something. I only had time to copy his files before he came back, Tennyson can pull them up at anytime."
Wiggins nodded again, though he wasn't sure where it all fit in, then told them what he had overheard. They both looked properly impressed and horrified at the same time.
Tennyson asked what they should do next. "Well," Wiggins said thoughtfully, "I...I'm not real sure. I guess do what Mister Holmes would do."
"We can talk to Dr. Canton!" Deidre said excitedly, "Tennyson has an appointment tomorrow. We can ask him if he knows anything."
"Right," Wiggins agreed, "And to keep him from knowing how much we know, we can tell him Holmes is having trouble locating Inspector Lestrade, and that any insights he might have about her would be greatly helpful. Okay...Deidre, you stay with Watson this time, and me and Tennyson will talk with Canton."
*********************************
"She was adopted," Dr. Canton explained, "I am ashamed to admit, my wife and I went through a "special" adoption program." He shook his head as if in regret. "Elise was barren; or so we thought. Anyway, we both loved children and we both wanted one very badly. We got Elizabeth. At first, she seemed okay, but then, when Elaine was born, she exhibited signs of jealousy. Usually these play out as the elder sibling becomes protective. Beth...never seemed to grow out of it." He stopped and lowered his head.
Wiggins exchanged a glance with Tennyson. There was something not being said here, though what it was he couldn't figure out. Besides, it was real news to hear that the inspector was adopted. Mister Holmes would often remark on the resemblance she had to her predecessor, though admittedly just to annoy her. Maybe that's all it was, but Wiggins didn't think so. Besides, didn't Holmes always say not to jump to conclusions before recieving all the facts?
"I never knew," the pediatrician continued after a moment, "That that jealousy could lead to murder. First, she encouraged Elaine to go out with a man who was quite a bit older than she, and then to marry him. It was obviously a plot to get a hold of our money, which Beth was no longer able to recieve after we kicked her out."
Wiggins fought to keep the frown from his face. Why was Dr. Canton deliberately lying? "I...guess we all didn't know her as well as we thought.." He said with regret.
Dr. Canton nodded in sympathy. "Yes, I know. She...was a chronic liar. And extremely clumsy. I'm surprised she lasted as long as she did at the Yard. I hope...Mister Holmes is able to catch her. Did you know that she and Stanhope lured me to her apartment on the pretense that she wanted to apologize for all the hurt she's caused me, and then clubbed me unconscious when I revealed that I knew she had murdered Elaine?"
Wiggins shook his head. He hadn't known that. But then, all he knew was what he'd overheard Mister Holmes and the inspector talking about in the Underground tunnel. Dr. Canton hadn't been mentioned.
It was sometime later, when Tennyson's examination had been completed, that they stood outside Holmes' flat to wait on Deidre and Watson. Wiggins read the quickly scratched note he found tucked under one of the stairs. It was from Deidre saying she was following Watson, and that he seemed to know Mr. Stanhope quite well. He hoped she didn't do anything rash.
Watson made sure no one was following as he once again walked towards Stanhope's apartment. So far, everything had been going according to plan. Now, they were just waiting on the report from Miss Presbury's friend Marcus, who had somehow gained a job working at the lodge where the couples were sent for a waiting period. He had sent a quick message earlier, saying he had recieved some interesting news.
Watson gave his surroundings another quick glance, and scan, before knocking on the door to the Stanhopes'. Mr. Stanhope answered and let him in, quickly shutting and locking the door behind him. Neither saw the girl who sauntered up fifteen minutes later, and who placed the sound magnifier against the door.
"Well?" Watson asked, "Any news?"
"Yeah," Stanhope answered, his face grim, "They haven't given away our baby yet, but they have found a couple. Marcus thinks they're in the leader's employ, since Higgins himself recommended them, and since the same guy is taking care of their case now, with no one else's help. However, Marcus says he can take care of them. The woman is some kind of basket case."
Watson was troubled. "How exactly does Marcus plan to 'take care of them'?" he asked, "I do not condone illegal behavior..."
"Neither do I," Mrs. Stanhope interjected, "And neither does Marcus. However, this...this is something different. Something larger than the law. I don't know what it is, but whoever is in charge of this organization was afraid of my baby. Marcus said the couple were American."
Watson could only nod in agreement.
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Holmes smiled amicably at Dr. Higgins as the two of them chatted. The older (at least by appearances) man had one of those kindly trusting faces, that no doubt helped greatly in his efforts to swindle couples from their money, hard earned or otherwise. He was the sort of man Holmes despised. The sort of man who preyed on human emotions and exploited it for his own personal gain. Of course he carefully kept his disgust off of his face and out of his voice.
As he continued to talk, he tried not to think about what his own motives last night had been. Certainly not to do what Lestrade had implied waterbeds had been made for. He could feel his cheeks heating with a blush at the thought, irritably brushed it off. He would most likely need to take a long vacation when this case was over. Though he didn't show it, the future took a lot more out of him than anything he had done in Victorian England. After all, though he was young in appearance, he was still at least eighty plus years in mind.
After a while, Higgins began to squirm in his seat like an impatient child with choice news, who was being asked by his parents not to interrupt. Holmes frowned, as he too began to wonder what was taking Lestrade so long to simply change clothes. He offered an apologetic smile and walked towards the bedroom. A seconds debate over whether or not to knock before entering warred within him before the need to keep up appearances outweighed propriety, and he walked in.
To his surprise, Lestrade was sitting on the ground hugging her knees to her chest. Her old clothes lay on the floor beside her, and she had put on a shirt at least, though the trendy black skirt that went with it also lay on the floor. He frowned and knelt beside her, placing one hand on her shoulder. She jerked away from him and gazed at him with wide, frightened eyes before recognition set in. She pointed at the floor in front of the door.
His frown growing deeper, he looked at the spot. There was a russet colored stain that somebody had tried to cover up, but had obviously failed. Upon closer inspection, it traveled from the door to where the bed was, but dissapeared after that. There were also tracks in the wood, made most likely by someone moving furniture around. Judging by the width and color of the scratches it had been a while. And that russet color could have been made by only one thing: blood, though it too was probably at least as old as the scratches. He told Lestrade all this.
"Lestrade?" he questioned, coming back to sit by her.
She had been watching him the whole time, and now she simply shook her head and smiled unconvincingly. "I guess I'm just a little shaken up by all that's going on. Um..just let me finish getting dressed."
He nodded, but didn't leave the room. Instead he stood and faced the doorway. When Higgins left, he and Lestrade would have to have a talk.
Everything was going perfect. Just the way she liked it. Perfection wasn't, as some people thought, the absense of faults. No, perfection was the little pieces coming together in a way as to make something better than it was before. Like the babies. They were taken from people who could not possibly give them good lives, and given to people who could give them everything they needed.
And like her experiment. Soon, the results of that experiment would be known to the world. But not before she erased past mistakes.
Wiggins waited patiently for the other two to arrive. He had followed the man called Higgins out of the building, and then gone straight to one of the Underground hidey holes he, Deidre and Tennyson used as a base of operations. For a few minutes he had debated on whether or not to track that man down and follow him to where he was pretty sure Holmes and Lestrade were, so he could tell the detective what he knew. However, Mister Holmes had told them not to place themselves in danger, and going there was probably the fastest way of doing so. So, he called Deidre, who in turn called Tennyson, and the three of them would have a short little meeting to see what each of them had found.
It didn't take long for the other to reach their destination, and Wiggins told Tennyson to report first. The younger boy had nothing of interest to report, except that Watson had seemed impatient with him, something the compudroid had never shown around any of them. Wiggins nodded, feeling oddly like he was taking Mister Holmes' place.
"Well, what I've got isn't much to go on either," Deidre said, "Except that Inspector Lestrade's real name is Elizabeth Juliet Canton. She had it legally changed to Lestrade when she was fifteen. Why, I have no idea. Anyway, guess who her father is? Dr. Canton. You know, the one who does all Tennyson's work?" The girl grinned, looking extremely pleased with herself. "Not only that, but Gregson seems to know more about that family than they do themselves. It's almost like he's been stalking Inspector Lestrade or something. I only had time to copy his files before he came back, Tennyson can pull them up at anytime."
Wiggins nodded again, though he wasn't sure where it all fit in, then told them what he had overheard. They both looked properly impressed and horrified at the same time.
Tennyson asked what they should do next. "Well," Wiggins said thoughtfully, "I...I'm not real sure. I guess do what Mister Holmes would do."
"We can talk to Dr. Canton!" Deidre said excitedly, "Tennyson has an appointment tomorrow. We can ask him if he knows anything."
"Right," Wiggins agreed, "And to keep him from knowing how much we know, we can tell him Holmes is having trouble locating Inspector Lestrade, and that any insights he might have about her would be greatly helpful. Okay...Deidre, you stay with Watson this time, and me and Tennyson will talk with Canton."
"She was adopted," Dr. Canton explained, "I am ashamed to admit, my wife and I went through a "special" adoption program." He shook his head as if in regret. "Elise was barren; or so we thought. Anyway, we both loved children and we both wanted one very badly. We got Elizabeth. At first, she seemed okay, but then, when Elaine was born, she exhibited signs of jealousy. Usually these play out as the elder sibling becomes protective. Beth...never seemed to grow out of it." He stopped and lowered his head.
Wiggins exchanged a glance with Tennyson. There was something not being said here, though what it was he couldn't figure out. Besides, it was real news to hear that the inspector was adopted. Mister Holmes would often remark on the resemblance she had to her predecessor, though admittedly just to annoy her. Maybe that's all it was, but Wiggins didn't think so. Besides, didn't Holmes always say not to jump to conclusions before recieving all the facts?
"I never knew," the pediatrician continued after a moment, "That that jealousy could lead to murder. First, she encouraged Elaine to go out with a man who was quite a bit older than she, and then to marry him. It was obviously a plot to get a hold of our money, which Beth was no longer able to recieve after we kicked her out."
Wiggins fought to keep the frown from his face. Why was Dr. Canton deliberately lying? "I...guess we all didn't know her as well as we thought.." He said with regret.
Dr. Canton nodded in sympathy. "Yes, I know. She...was a chronic liar. And extremely clumsy. I'm surprised she lasted as long as she did at the Yard. I hope...Mister Holmes is able to catch her. Did you know that she and Stanhope lured me to her apartment on the pretense that she wanted to apologize for all the hurt she's caused me, and then clubbed me unconscious when I revealed that I knew she had murdered Elaine?"
Wiggins shook his head. He hadn't known that. But then, all he knew was what he'd overheard Mister Holmes and the inspector talking about in the Underground tunnel. Dr. Canton hadn't been mentioned.
It was sometime later, when Tennyson's examination had been completed, that they stood outside Holmes' flat to wait on Deidre and Watson. Wiggins read the quickly scratched note he found tucked under one of the stairs. It was from Deidre saying she was following Watson, and that he seemed to know Mr. Stanhope quite well. He hoped she didn't do anything rash.
Watson made sure no one was following as he once again walked towards Stanhope's apartment. So far, everything had been going according to plan. Now, they were just waiting on the report from Miss Presbury's friend Marcus, who had somehow gained a job working at the lodge where the couples were sent for a waiting period. He had sent a quick message earlier, saying he had recieved some interesting news.
Watson gave his surroundings another quick glance, and scan, before knocking on the door to the Stanhopes'. Mr. Stanhope answered and let him in, quickly shutting and locking the door behind him. Neither saw the girl who sauntered up fifteen minutes later, and who placed the sound magnifier against the door.
"Well?" Watson asked, "Any news?"
"Yeah," Stanhope answered, his face grim, "They haven't given away our baby yet, but they have found a couple. Marcus thinks they're in the leader's employ, since Higgins himself recommended them, and since the same guy is taking care of their case now, with no one else's help. However, Marcus says he can take care of them. The woman is some kind of basket case."
Watson was troubled. "How exactly does Marcus plan to 'take care of them'?" he asked, "I do not condone illegal behavior..."
"Neither do I," Mrs. Stanhope interjected, "And neither does Marcus. However, this...this is something different. Something larger than the law. I don't know what it is, but whoever is in charge of this organization was afraid of my baby. Marcus said the couple were American."
Watson could only nod in agreement.
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