Chapter Eleven


(Emma walks in, sees JWJ still on computer)

Emma: Are you still plotting?

JWJ: Hold on Professor. (To Emma) Yes. Now go away.

Emma: MEG!

JWJ: She won't come.

Emma: How do you know that?

JWJ: I locked her in a closet.

Emma: JWJ! LIZZ, RAEB! LEIGH! SARAH! HELP ME FIND MEG! (runs out)


Basil heard the snores of the two mice guarding his door. He picked the lock and cautiously opened the door. The two guards had been drinking, and were passed out on the floor. Basil held up his skirt and gingerly stepped over the henchmen. Then he went down the hallway.


Since the detective had been locked in his cell in the wine cellar, Landon had been incarcerated in the pantry. His leg was in a large cast, preventing him from moving around much to escape anyway.

He jumped as the pantry door opened. He grew sick with dread as a dark figure appeared against the moonlight from the kitchen windows.

"Landon Colhart?" the figure whispered.

Landon peered into the darkness. It was the girl!

"Mademoiselle? The detective's friend?"

Basil slipped into the pantry and closed the door behind him. "Colhart, I don't have much time."

"Then let's get out of here!"

"We will," Basil said. "Soon."

"What do you mean 'soon?' Let's go now!" Landon got up and hobbled to the door.

"Colhart, wait!" Basil got in between him and the door.

"Out of my way! I have never hit a woman before, but one can always make exceptions."

"Colhart, this is Basil of Baker Street!" Basil said as loudly as possible, so Colhart could hear his normal voice.

"What?" Landon said, surprised.

"It's too dark in here to show you, but-" Basil took off the wig and handed it to Landon.

Landon ran his hands over the wig. "Then who's the guy in the wine cellar?"

"That is Meg Havers."

Landon thrust the wig back at Basil. "I don't understand."

"I will explain later. But first I need your help."

"My help?" Landon repeated in disbelief. "Monsieur Basil, in case you haven't noticed, I am pretty, well…" he gestured at his broken leg, "…useless."

Basil shook his head. "I hardly need manpower. I need some information. Do you know your brother's plans, like how he is going to kill your sister the Duchess?"

Landon drew in his breath. "I... ah... don't quite have that information."

"What do you mean?" Basil asked slowly.

Colhart lost his temper. "Listen detective, Marcus didn't make me privy to his little plan."

"Very well," Basil said. "Can you tell me anything that you do know about the plan?"

Landon hesitated. "Well..." he began cautiously, "the ball is at the Opera House tomorrow. Marcus was going to go into Paris early tomorrow and prepare for the ball at his flat in town. He was going with about a dozen of his lackeys; Guy, Miche, Charles, Jean-Paul, Napier, and some others."

"How many men does he have?"

"Vingt, twenty."

"That leaves eight here... that cannot be too hard."

"Don't forget the servants. He dismissed most of them when he got here, but kept the butler Frederick and his son, the cook and her assistant, and the coachman and his wife."

"Are they in support of Marcus?"

"I don't believe that the coachman and his wife are. But Frederick is definitely against me now; so is his son. Adèle, the cook, visits me and gives me decent meals. I believe that she would ally herself with us."

"Excellent. What about Mrs. Havers? Where is she?"

"Marcus keeps your double in a small storage room off to the stairwell to the wine cellar."

"How many mice guard her?"

"I don't know that," Landon said. "I would assume that it would be several, just to make sure that the famous 'Basil of Baker Street' doesn't escape."

"Good. One more question before I go."

"Yes?"

"How does one tell the difference between you and your brother?"

Landon gave a short chuckle. He then pulled back the sleeve of his right arm. "It's too dark to see. But on my right arm, just below my elbow, I have a birthmark, a dark blot against my fur. Marcus doesn't have one."


I paced the small cell, back and forth, back and forth. The sun was already starting to heat my prison, and the mask I was wearing did not help matters.

I knew that Marcus Colhart had left the manor earlier in the morning to prepare for the murder of his sister. There was no obvious way out of the cell, and with no way to know what Basil was doing or where he was, there appeared to be no hope for the Duchess.

I wrung my hands in frustration, trying to think of a plan...


Four floors above me, Basil was implementing his plan.

He heard the footsteps of one henchman on the stairs, coming to bring him lunch. Basil watched the mouse set the tray down on a table. Then he came up behind him and gripped him behind the neck, cutting off the blood flow to his brain. Within half a minute the mouse had passed out. Basil took the mouse's keys and clothes, and then locked the unconscious henchman in the tower.

Basil quickly changed his clothes before making his way to the kitchen.

The cook glared at the detective as he made his way to the pantry. He unlocked the door and opened it.

Landon shielded his eyes from the sudden burst of light. "Can't you ever leave me alone?" he murmured, sounding annoyed.

Basil pulled out the fake wig that he had been hiding under his shirt. "Recognize a friend," he said in a low voice.

"Monsieur Basil!"

"Quiet," he said. "Where are the keys to your automobile?"

"In the stables, on a hook."

"Good. We must hurry."


I snapped my fingers as an idea came to mind. Dawson had once showed me a trick with Basil's high-powered lenses, so I decided to give it a try.

I pulled out the letter addressed to Basil and put it on the floor in the sunlight. I hesitated; then picked it back up and opened it.

It read:

M. Basil,

Take care of the young lady. She has beautiful hair.

M. Rahle


A sort of fluttery emotion grew inside me. Rahle? He told Basil to take care of me? I touched the mask where my hair would normally be. I wondered if the second sentence in the letter was hinting at the fact that Ratigan wanted a wig that looked like my hair.

I shook my head and sighed. Placing the letter back on the floor, I held the lenses over it, creating a bright circle over it. Nothing happened at first. After a few minutes some smoke started to rise from the paper.


Basil went down the stairs to the wine cellar, holding a hefty cane. Halfway down he found two guards in front of the cell door.

"Who are you?" one of them demanded.

"I'm one of Professor Ratigan's men," Basil growled.

"Why didn't you come with Rafael and the others then?" the other guard said.

"I was doing other things for the Professor. Now, he wants to make sure that the detective is well guarded until his arrival. I'm here to relieve one of you."

"Hold on one minute," the first guard snarled suspiciously. "We take orders from Colhart."

"Well, Colhart isn't here now, is he?" Basil retorted.

There was a long pause, until finally the second guard said, "I've been on this stupid guard duty for both Basil and Sarentis too many times, and I'm sick of it. Fine, if Ratigan wants you to guard, then you guard." He brushed past Basil on up the stairs.

The other guard glared at Basil. "If anything happens, it's your fault."

Basil grinned, and gripping the handle of a cane, knocked the guard out cold.

He noticed smoke coming from under the door of the cell. Grabbing the keys, he hurried to unlock it.


I heard the sound of the door unlocking. The trick had worked!

As the guard came in through the door, I gave him a blow to the back of the head and shoved my way past him. I started to run up the stairs until I discovered the second guard unconscious on the floor. Feeling like I was missing something, I turned back to the cell and the guard I had attacked, who was staggering to his feet. He looked up at me.

I almost cried out when I saw the familiar face. "Basil? Basil!" I threw my arms around him. "You're all right!"

Basil stumbled backwards, his head spinning from the blow. "Megana, why did you have to pick that moment to practice your kung fu?" he moaned, rubbing his head.

"Oh..." my face flushed. "Sorry?"

"Never mind. We have to get out of here!"

I helped Basil get up the stairs, and then we made a mad dash for the stables. Landon was already starting up the engine.

"An... automobile. Uh... nice," I said uneasily.

Basil jumped into the driver's seat, wincing at the pain in his head. "Get in."

"I... erm... now?"

"Yes, now!"

I got into the back seat. "Is this safe?"

"Of course." Basil hit the gas pedal. We lurched forward.

"Easy!" Landon exclaimed.

The noise had attracted the attention of the remaining thugs. They raced out of the house and made for the automobile.

"All right, the time to go would be about now," Landon said slowly.

Basil responded by flooring the gas pedal. We were thrown back in our seats as we fled Lacasa.

"Don't drive so fast!" Colhart screamed over the roar of the engine.

Dust from the road was starting to get into Basil's eyes. It was becoming more difficult to see. He began to steer the automobile all over the road as he tried to clear his eyes. Landon handed him a pair of goggles, but that action caused him to steer us completely off the road. Landon grabbed the wheel and took us back onto the road.

"Basil, have you ever driven an automobile before?" I shrieked.

"First time for everything!" Basil responded.

"What?" Landon and I screamed in unison.

Our Father, who art in heaven... I began to pray mentally as Basil drove into a field of wheat. The stalks hit us unmercifully as he weaved through them. Finally we made it through the field and swerved back onto a road.

The gates of Paris soon came into sight. We flew through those too, Basil narrowly missing a few pedestrians and carts. We finally made it to a stop in front of a tailor's shop.

Landon and I sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. Basil, however, seemed to be completely exhilarated. "Amazing," he said in awe. "What a thrill!" He looked back at me. "Don't you agree?"

I pulled off the mask that I had worn for so long, glaring daggers at him. Basil looked to Landon, who was staring at him in disbelief.

"Right..." Basil said slowly. He turned to me. "Were you mistreated by Colhart?" he said.

"I haven't eaten in two days."

"Let's get you something to eat…" he began. He moved his hand to the ignition, about to restart the automobile.

"NO!" Landon and I shouted, throwing ourselves at him for the keys.


Sarah: Basil... driving? (laughs)

RAEB: And he stinks!

Leigh: Like Meg!

Meg: I do not stink at driving! I got a perfect on my test!

Leigh: Yeah, sure. You had an easy instructor and you already knew the course.

Meg: STOP PICKING ON ME!

Lizz: Hey, do you want to hear about how my car got a dent in it the other day?

Meg: And they call me the bad driver.