Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson belong to that wonderful genius Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, as do any plots and minor characters I may have "borrowed" along the way. This is jsut for fun, not for profit. Honest. If you don't believe me look at my bank account.
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We stood in the middle of the trashed art room, waiting for Professor Saland. Holmes was carefully examining every piece that had been tossed about. Every painting in the room had been smashed or torn. The thing that struck me was the lack of damage to everything else. A few unfired clay sculptures, some pencil sketches, and some photographic collages were still in their appropriate places.
Th door swung open and Professor Saland walked in. She was tall, dressed entirely in black, and wore glasses with thick black frames. She didn't even glance at me, but cleared her throat and said, "Mr. Holmes." I immediately disliked her.
"Professor Saland. Thank you for meeting with us." Saland looked at him, trying to read his inner thoughts, but his face was a smooth mask.
"Anything to help. Campus security insists that there is nothing more sinister here than a vandal."
"And you believe different?"
"Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to just to create a little havoc. There are easier and higher profile targets. We barely got a paragraph in the school paper." Saland looked disgusted for a moment and recovered herself.
"Anything missing?"
"I haven't finished an inventory yet. Everything seems to be here."
"Do you lock the door every night?"
Saland nodded. "Not that night though." She said suddenly. "One of my students was finishing her sculpture," She waved a hand vaguely at the row of clay figures. "But I trusted her to lock up."
"What was the student's name? She may have seen something." Holmes added quickly before Prof. Saland could take offence.
"Yolanda Rodriguez. I'm expecting her soon."
"Could you send her to the Couch Room in the library? I'd like to speak with her."
Prof. Saland nodded. She noticed one of the easels that had been knocked over. She sighed and went over to straighten it. "I hope you catch him. These works are very important to the artists, even if no one else cares." The veneer of a aloof artist disappeared and for a moment, Saland was simply a tired and harassed woman.
Holmes nodded solemnly. "I will do my very best madam."
Holmes insisted on inspecting the outside of the building after the interview. The art room in question was on the second floor. The first floor windows were alarmed but it seemed impossible to me that a vandal would enter through the second floor window when there was a perfectly good door right there.
"What do you think?" Holmes called from under a bush. I guess he was looking for footprints.
"I think it's artistic jealously. A person destroyed another's paintings. A vandal would have trashed everything in that room and a art student would have been able to convince that girl, Yolanda?, to let him or her in." I replied thoughtfully.
"That's a very good theory, but it doesn't explain this." Holmes stood up and dusted himself off. He was holding a medium sized painting, probably a landscape. What kind of landscape exactly was hard to tell because the canvas had been slashed away from the backing. "Smooth cut, probably a penknife or something. So Watson how does this fit in with your theory?"
I looked up and saw the window above us was cracked open, just enough for the canvas to slip through. "I'd wish you'd tell me when you find clues like that." Holmes just chuckled.
"I also found that the other painting have no more damage than might be cause by being tossed to the floor. Our hypothetical someone was looking for this painting. I wonder why?" The last question Holmes muttered to himself. "Well, since we have some time, how about getting some lunch?"
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I love reviews. Questions, comments, ideas, criticisms, complaints, meandering thoughts, should all be directed at that little review button.
.·´¨`·»¦«·Kerowyn ·»¦«·´¨`·.
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We stood in the middle of the trashed art room, waiting for Professor Saland. Holmes was carefully examining every piece that had been tossed about. Every painting in the room had been smashed or torn. The thing that struck me was the lack of damage to everything else. A few unfired clay sculptures, some pencil sketches, and some photographic collages were still in their appropriate places.
Th door swung open and Professor Saland walked in. She was tall, dressed entirely in black, and wore glasses with thick black frames. She didn't even glance at me, but cleared her throat and said, "Mr. Holmes." I immediately disliked her.
"Professor Saland. Thank you for meeting with us." Saland looked at him, trying to read his inner thoughts, but his face was a smooth mask.
"Anything to help. Campus security insists that there is nothing more sinister here than a vandal."
"And you believe different?"
"Seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to just to create a little havoc. There are easier and higher profile targets. We barely got a paragraph in the school paper." Saland looked disgusted for a moment and recovered herself.
"Anything missing?"
"I haven't finished an inventory yet. Everything seems to be here."
"Do you lock the door every night?"
Saland nodded. "Not that night though." She said suddenly. "One of my students was finishing her sculpture," She waved a hand vaguely at the row of clay figures. "But I trusted her to lock up."
"What was the student's name? She may have seen something." Holmes added quickly before Prof. Saland could take offence.
"Yolanda Rodriguez. I'm expecting her soon."
"Could you send her to the Couch Room in the library? I'd like to speak with her."
Prof. Saland nodded. She noticed one of the easels that had been knocked over. She sighed and went over to straighten it. "I hope you catch him. These works are very important to the artists, even if no one else cares." The veneer of a aloof artist disappeared and for a moment, Saland was simply a tired and harassed woman.
Holmes nodded solemnly. "I will do my very best madam."
Holmes insisted on inspecting the outside of the building after the interview. The art room in question was on the second floor. The first floor windows were alarmed but it seemed impossible to me that a vandal would enter through the second floor window when there was a perfectly good door right there.
"What do you think?" Holmes called from under a bush. I guess he was looking for footprints.
"I think it's artistic jealously. A person destroyed another's paintings. A vandal would have trashed everything in that room and a art student would have been able to convince that girl, Yolanda?, to let him or her in." I replied thoughtfully.
"That's a very good theory, but it doesn't explain this." Holmes stood up and dusted himself off. He was holding a medium sized painting, probably a landscape. What kind of landscape exactly was hard to tell because the canvas had been slashed away from the backing. "Smooth cut, probably a penknife or something. So Watson how does this fit in with your theory?"
I looked up and saw the window above us was cracked open, just enough for the canvas to slip through. "I'd wish you'd tell me when you find clues like that." Holmes just chuckled.
"I also found that the other painting have no more damage than might be cause by being tossed to the floor. Our hypothetical someone was looking for this painting. I wonder why?" The last question Holmes muttered to himself. "Well, since we have some time, how about getting some lunch?"
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I love reviews. Questions, comments, ideas, criticisms, complaints, meandering thoughts, should all be directed at that little review button.
.·´¨`·»¦«·Kerowyn ·»¦«·´¨`·.