Chapter Thirteen
More Phone Calls
*ring*
"Officer Bradshaw here."
"It's Harris my good man. Put the convict on the line."
"Hello?"
"Walter Lankenau alias Robin, it is my duty to inform you that you are not obligated to participate or assist in police operations in anyway. However, if you should choose to do so, you will earn the gratitude of both Crown and Country and leniency in the grand theft and fraud case I am currently building against you."
"What fraud case are you talking about?" Robin asked hesitantly, with precisely the wrong note of innocence in his voice.
"The one where you concealed the millions of pounds you stole from the Tigers."
"Ah, that fraud case. I shall be glad to do my civic duty."
"Excellent. We need you to ring your former associate."
*ring*
"What?"
"Skyler? It's Robin."
"I hope you have good news."
"I've got your money."
"That is excellent news. Where can I meet you?"
"The police have me under protective custody. Onyx has the money."
A moment of silence.
"My sister and I don't get along very well."
"That's what she said. She promised me that she would hang on to the money until you came for it."
"At her dive down near the water I assume."
"Yes, The Clever Thief."
*ring*
*ring*
*ring*
"This had better be important."
"Good afternoon Alden. I trust you're well?"
"I would be if I could be delivered from this plague of annoyances."
"One phone call is hardly a plague. Have you finished repairing the machine yet?"
"Another eighteen hours, give or take."
"Give me a ring when you-" *click* "He hung up on me. Cheeky little tosser."
Holmes had retreated into familiar game of pool again. The computer age bore about as much resemblance to Victorian London as apples did to a grande mocha latte, but Holmes had adapted remarkable well. He no longer stared at people talking on cell phones as if they were mad and had finally stopped trying to dismantle my television.
But I could tell that modern living was beginning to wear on his nerves. Hell, modern life wore on my nerves. Half the reason I continued to visit the land of gaslights and hansom cabs was to escape the joys of the 21st century.
"The pieces are falling into place." I informed Holmes. The pub was empty but for the two of us. I had sent Mala home, locked the pub door, and turned off the Guinness sign that hung in the window, a clear sign to my regular patrons that they wanted to be somewhere else tonight. Compared to yesterday's frenzy of activity, the morning practically crawled by. The proverbial calm before the storm. "I just called Alden; the machine should be up and running in a couple of days."
Relief flickered briefly across Holmes' face. "Excellent. I was beginning to fear I might be trapped here forever. I never imagined things could change so much in the course of a hundred years." He paused to sink the nine ball in a corner pocket. "Tell me, did you feel as off balance when you arrived in the present?"
I began to correct him, and say that I had arrived in the past, but stopped myself. All things in the eye of the beholder.
"Probably not." I replied. "Once I knew when I was, I had an idea of what to expect."
"You seem different." He said unexpectedly. At my startled look, he elaborated. "Your personality, your mannerisms. It is a subtle difference, but you act differently here, in your native environment as it were. Perhaps it is just the difference between being on familiar territory and unexplored terrain."
"You seem different as well." I remarked mildly, thinking of that rather chaste (by 21st standards) kiss two nights ago.
"I feel rather different. Being away from Baker Street is rather…freeing." Holmes opened his mouth to say more, but abruptly halted. Well, at least one thing hadn't changed, he wasn't about to get all maudlin about it. The five ball dropped into the side pocket, but not before ricocheting off the eight ball, sending it into the opposite side pocket. Holmes grunted.
Not for the first time I wondered what life would have been like had Holmes been born in 19—rather than 18--. A great deal more interesting for those of the criminal persuasion, no doubt.
*ring* The phone interrupted my musings. I reached under the bar to retrieve the receiver.
"The Clever Thief."
"Good day Miss Aurora."
"Harris, my old chum. How's work?"
"Quite well. Everything is arranged."
"Hurrah." I said flatly. Working with the cops was not my idea of a fun time. "When can I expect you?"
"Right about now." Startled, I glanced out the front window. Harris waved at me. Parked next to the curb behind him was an unmarked white van. I sighed, (could they be any more conspicuous?) hung up and went to let Harris and his team in.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Questions, comments, critisicms, complaints? Make your voice heard.
.•´¨`•»¦«•Kerowyn•»¦«•´¨`•.
More Phone Calls
*ring*
"Officer Bradshaw here."
"It's Harris my good man. Put the convict on the line."
"Hello?"
"Walter Lankenau alias Robin, it is my duty to inform you that you are not obligated to participate or assist in police operations in anyway. However, if you should choose to do so, you will earn the gratitude of both Crown and Country and leniency in the grand theft and fraud case I am currently building against you."
"What fraud case are you talking about?" Robin asked hesitantly, with precisely the wrong note of innocence in his voice.
"The one where you concealed the millions of pounds you stole from the Tigers."
"Ah, that fraud case. I shall be glad to do my civic duty."
"Excellent. We need you to ring your former associate."
*ring*
"What?"
"Skyler? It's Robin."
"I hope you have good news."
"I've got your money."
"That is excellent news. Where can I meet you?"
"The police have me under protective custody. Onyx has the money."
A moment of silence.
"My sister and I don't get along very well."
"That's what she said. She promised me that she would hang on to the money until you came for it."
"At her dive down near the water I assume."
"Yes, The Clever Thief."
*ring*
*ring*
*ring*
"This had better be important."
"Good afternoon Alden. I trust you're well?"
"I would be if I could be delivered from this plague of annoyances."
"One phone call is hardly a plague. Have you finished repairing the machine yet?"
"Another eighteen hours, give or take."
"Give me a ring when you-" *click* "He hung up on me. Cheeky little tosser."
Holmes had retreated into familiar game of pool again. The computer age bore about as much resemblance to Victorian London as apples did to a grande mocha latte, but Holmes had adapted remarkable well. He no longer stared at people talking on cell phones as if they were mad and had finally stopped trying to dismantle my television.
But I could tell that modern living was beginning to wear on his nerves. Hell, modern life wore on my nerves. Half the reason I continued to visit the land of gaslights and hansom cabs was to escape the joys of the 21st century.
"The pieces are falling into place." I informed Holmes. The pub was empty but for the two of us. I had sent Mala home, locked the pub door, and turned off the Guinness sign that hung in the window, a clear sign to my regular patrons that they wanted to be somewhere else tonight. Compared to yesterday's frenzy of activity, the morning practically crawled by. The proverbial calm before the storm. "I just called Alden; the machine should be up and running in a couple of days."
Relief flickered briefly across Holmes' face. "Excellent. I was beginning to fear I might be trapped here forever. I never imagined things could change so much in the course of a hundred years." He paused to sink the nine ball in a corner pocket. "Tell me, did you feel as off balance when you arrived in the present?"
I began to correct him, and say that I had arrived in the past, but stopped myself. All things in the eye of the beholder.
"Probably not." I replied. "Once I knew when I was, I had an idea of what to expect."
"You seem different." He said unexpectedly. At my startled look, he elaborated. "Your personality, your mannerisms. It is a subtle difference, but you act differently here, in your native environment as it were. Perhaps it is just the difference between being on familiar territory and unexplored terrain."
"You seem different as well." I remarked mildly, thinking of that rather chaste (by 21st standards) kiss two nights ago.
"I feel rather different. Being away from Baker Street is rather…freeing." Holmes opened his mouth to say more, but abruptly halted. Well, at least one thing hadn't changed, he wasn't about to get all maudlin about it. The five ball dropped into the side pocket, but not before ricocheting off the eight ball, sending it into the opposite side pocket. Holmes grunted.
Not for the first time I wondered what life would have been like had Holmes been born in 19—rather than 18--. A great deal more interesting for those of the criminal persuasion, no doubt.
*ring* The phone interrupted my musings. I reached under the bar to retrieve the receiver.
"The Clever Thief."
"Good day Miss Aurora."
"Harris, my old chum. How's work?"
"Quite well. Everything is arranged."
"Hurrah." I said flatly. Working with the cops was not my idea of a fun time. "When can I expect you?"
"Right about now." Startled, I glanced out the front window. Harris waved at me. Parked next to the curb behind him was an unmarked white van. I sighed, (could they be any more conspicuous?) hung up and went to let Harris and his team in.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Questions, comments, critisicms, complaints? Make your voice heard.
.•´¨`•»¦«•Kerowyn•»¦«•´¨`•.