Chapter Nine

The sun was high in the sky when I woke up the next morning. I dressed quickly and slipped out of my bedroom, hoping to avoid Basil and Dawson on my way to the kitchen. As luck would have it, Isabelle was halfway up the stairs as I began to descend.

"Hello," I said.

"Meg Havers!" she said, waving a finger at me.

I raised an eyebrow. "What did I do?"

"What happened last night?"

"Basil told you?"

"Not exactly. He told David. I was... erm, just listening in."

"Also known as eavesdropping."

"I was not!"

"Basil told Dawson?"

"Don't get angry. David had been pushing him to say something to you for weeks."

I groaned. "I feel so awful. Poor Basil."

Isabelle frowned. "You don't love him?"

I hesitated, fighting the urge to spill the secret that had been gnawing away at me for days. Unfortunately I knew that Isabelle was not good at keeping her mouth shut. "No. I don't. Why did this have to happen?"

"I suppose it is for the best. Imagine what Ratigan's reaction would have been had something evolved between you two. He would have surely made your lives a living hell."

You have no idea, I thought.

Life at Baker Street grew awkward. Although Basil was kind to me, I felt that he was now avoiding me. I, in my turn, tried to not look into his eyes. I found myself addressing Dawson more often than Basil, especially when it was something that concerned both men. He in his turn appeared to delve deeper into work. After one week of this game of pretending that everything between us was as it had been, I decided that I could not live there anymore. Isabelle asked me to come with her to Exeter and stay with her aunt for a week. I readily accepted the invitation, packed my bags and left.

Exeter was a stormy and windy place in November, but Ms. Hamilton's house was welcoming. She had visitors nearly every day, which kept the place lively and provided enough distraction to slightly lift my spirits.

I had promised to stay one week. I remained for two, then for three. I attended several parties with Isabelle, but I cannot say that I enjoyed them. She tried to introduce me to several eligible men, but a poor widow is not attractive to many, and I was not receptive to any attentions I did receive.

It was in the week before Christmas that we learned that Basil and Dawson were in the neighborhood on another case. My spirits dropped.

The detective and the doctor came to Ms. Hamilton's on the second day they were in town. I faked an illness, which was not hard to do considering my nerves were nearly shot. They asked to see me, but I would not allow it. What a wreck I had become!

On the third evening of their stay Dawson came to visit Isabelle. Basil was not with him, so I came down the stairs to spend the evening with them. We remained in the parlour, talking, for most of the evening. Another man, a Mr. Morris Lawrence, had come to call upon Ms. Hamilton, and focused his attentions on me. He kept trying to steer me to the other side of the room and engage me in conversation. I acted bored and distant, too unhappy to open myself up to this strange man.

During one of Mr. Lawrence's dull stories about his job as a clerk for a small government office, my mind drifted to Basil of Baker Street. I wondered what the detective was doing this evening, by himself.

The mouse in question was kneeling next to Meg's traveling bag, carefully rummaging through its contents.

Although he had taken her rejection of his affections well, her consequent behavior alarmed him. He suspected that Ratigan had threatened her to stay away from the detective. He had searched her room at Baker Street shortly after she left for a clue to support his theory, but there was no evidence to prove anything of the sort. Being a thorough investigator, he decided to check the belongings she had brought with her to Exeter.

He moved from the traveling bag to the dresser, opening the drawers and searching through them.

Half an hour later he stood in the center of the room, everything in place except a maroon leather-bound diary, which he had taken from its hiding place in a pillowcase. He shook its pages, hoping that a note or some piece of evidence would fall out. Nothing.

Basil bit his lower lip, nervously tapping the diary. After a few moments of deliberation he shook his head. He gently placed the journal back into the pillowcase.

Hearing footsteps outside of the door, Basil threw himself under the bed.

The door creaked open. Basil peeked out from under the bed as Meg entered, closing the door behind her. She went to the closet. Basil slid further under the bed. Now he could only see the hem of her skirt and her shoes.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," Meg said.

Another skirt and pair of shoes entered Basil's vision. "Meg, be happy," said Isabelle's voice.

"I am happy. Exeter is such a wonderful place."

"Not like London."

"No."

"Or Baker Street."

Silence.

"Don't you miss Baker Street?"

A pause. Then: "Sometimes one needs to get away from one's surroundings."

"For a month?"

"I'm sorry Isabelle. I guess I have worn out my welcome."

"That's not what I mean!"

"Then what do you mean?" Meg said, sounding annoyed. "Do you mean that I should go back to Baker Street and continue to act as if nothing ever happened?"

"Why can't you just be friends with Basil again like you used to?"

"Because nothing is like it was before."

"Meg, it's really bad that you turned Basil down, but to be so antisocial to every other man here is just too much." There was a pause. "Do you miss Josh?"

"No... not as I used to. I really have moved on. In most ways. The only way that is blocked comes in the form of Ratigan."

"How so?"

"Always there, threatening, like some bogey-man. Like, I can't have a happy or normal life unless he's not there, because he is always going to prevent it."

"I'm sorry Meg."

"I mean..." she continued, "what if he killed Basil just because he thought that Basil had feelings for me?"

Basil listened more closely.

"True," said Isabelle.

"I don't know," Meg said. "I don't know."

Basil heard the sounds of a heavy object removed from a wooden shelf, the metallic clang of a knife being unsheathed.

"What are you doing?" Isabelle asked.

"Like I told you, my life can't be normal. I check the closet, behind the curtains, and under the bed for any intruders every night before I go to sleep."

Beads of sweat broke out on Basil's forehead. He peeked out again from under the bed. Isabelle was between him and the door. Meg checked the closet and moved to the windows on the other side of the room, making sure that they were latched. Then she approached the bed.

Isabelle was on one side, Meg on the other. Someone was going to see the detective.

As Meg knelt to the ground, Basil rolled out from under the bed in Isabelle's direction.

Basil put a finger to his lips as Isabelle gave a little shriek. She appeared as though she were about to faint.

"Isabelle!" Meg jumped up. Basil slid back under the bed as she ran to her friend. "Isabelle, what is it?"

"Nuh-nothing."

"You're as white as a sheet! What, is someone here?" Meg fell to the ground again. Basil barely had time to roll out on the other side.

"No... I just remembered something..." Isabelle said slowly. "I forgot to do something... Meg, I lost my... my string of pearls."

There was a long pause. "When?"

"Help me look for them. Please?"

"All right," Meg said slowly. The two girls left the room.

Basil darted out into the hallway, where he met Isabelle coming out of her room. "Get in here, quick!" she said, shoving him into a linen closet.

Almost an hour later, after everyone had gone to bed, the door of the linen closet opened.

"Mr. Basil, what in the world do you think you are doing?" Isabelle hissed in a low voice.

"Can we speak somewhere in private?" Basil asked quietly.

Isabelle sighed. "Follow me."

She took him down the stairs and ushered him into the library. Isabelle locked the door and pocketed the key.

"Mr. Basil, what in the world were you doing in Meg's room at night? I should have you arrested!" she exclaimed.

The detective thought it was time to stop her from getting ideas. "Calm down Miss Fremly. I can explain."

Isabelle folded her arms and glared at him. "Amuse me. I would love to hear your insane explanation."

"You have some idea of what happened between Meg and I, just before she came to Exeter with you?"

"Yes."

Basil's eyes flew to the ceiling, as if calling on a higher power for assistance. "I have been concerned that she had been threatened by Ratigan in some way."

"You mean that she really does love you, but she can't admit it because Ratigan threatened to do something to you?" Isabelle practically squealed with excitement. "Oh, I knew it!"

"So it is true?" Basil asked, sounding more hopeful than he had intended.

Isabelle raised her eyebrows in confusion. "Didn't you find out?"

"No. I was looking for some sort of evidence to that theory of mine. I searched her room at Baker Street, but failed to come up with anything."

"So you came here to look? The case was a cover-up story?" Isabelle said, growing in her excitement.

"Miss Fremly, you're jumping to conclusions. I was indeed called here on a case. Since we happened to be in the neighborhood... Miss Fremly, forgive me for the way in which I have acted."

"What way?"

"For breaking into your aunt's home and invading the privacy of your friend."

"Mr. Basil, I..." she stopped. "I was hoping that you would come along, but not in this manner. I asked David about you, and he says that although you seem happy, you are quiet and withdrawn at times. I believe you are heartbroken. Is that true?"

"I just want to know the truth. Miss Fremly, I do not need Meg to care for me. Her actions, however, have alarmed me. Alienating herself from Dawson and I is much too dangerous, especially with Ratigan still after her."

"I believe that she loves you."

Basil scoffed. "She has a curious way of showing it."

Isabelle sighed. "She's been acting very peculiar lately. She does not like to go out much. I have to force her to make any normal conversation with any man. And whenever I bring up London and Baker Street she abruptly changes the subject."

"Miss Fremly, would you do me a favor?"

"Certainly."

"I am leaving for London tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? But Mr. Basil, it will be Christmas Eve! David is staying in Exeter for the holiday. My whole family will be here. You are welcome to join us."

"I am afraid that I must turn down your invitation. Mrs. Judson has no family, so I thought that I would keep her company this Christmas. But I will stop by here in the morning, before the train leaves. Can you try to get the truth out of Meg? Tell her that if Ratigan is threatening her in any way that there are people who care enough about her to help. Ratigan has had it in for me ever since our paths first crossed, so any new threat to my life is in actuality an old one. You understand?"

"Yes, I do. Funny, I never thought of it like that before!"

"If she wants to speak to me, I will be waiting by the gate until half-past eleven."

"All right."

JWJ: He broke into her bedroom and started looking through all of her things? That is not chivalrous.

RAEB: (sarcastically) Wow, you actually know big words!

JWJ: And you do?

Lizz: What is going to happen next?

Leigh: (shrugs)