Chapter Thirty: A Dog Cart Ride

I didn't even notice that the train had stopped. As we got off the train, I looked around and couldn't help but wonder what adventures and potentials horrors were in store for us.

We grabbed a quick lunch/dinner at the station and then, without a word, the detective hailed a dog-cart and briefly gave the cabbie a description of Christine Daaé. Much to my surprise, the cabbie remembered her from the night before.

"Take us to the inn where you took her," Holmes said softly.

The cabbie nodded and motioned for us to climb into the dog-cart. Holmes gave me a leg up and then climbed up after me. I looked at the cart skeptically.

"Don't worry, it is quite safe," the detective said with a smile.

I started when I realized he read my inner most thoughts. "How the hell did you do that?"

"Do what?" He asked with feigned innocence.

"How did you know what the hell I was thinking? Man, it's a little unnerving!"

The detective chuckled and turned his back against the wind in effort to light his cigarette. "It is a bit of very simple reasoning. When I helped you into the cart, your eyes immediately began looking around, and were filled with apprehension. Hence I deduced that you were nervous about its safety."

"Amazing," I gasped.

"Elementary," he replied. "Perros," he said taking a long drag on his cigarette, "was once occupied by Celtics and much of their Irish heritage is instilled in the village today."

I grinned. "How the hell do you know so much trivia?"

The detective shrugged and said no more. The wind and air was freezing, settling into my bones and causing my teeth to chatter. I rubbed my hands over my arms and wished fervently that my disguise called for a warmer coat.

"Damn it's cold," Becky said, watching her words turn to vapor.

"Tell me about it," I replied with a slight smile. I looked at Watson, who seemed to be just as cold as me and my best friend. "Don't you agree Doc?"

"Whole-heartedly," Watson replied. "I would give you my jacket…"

"Please Doc, keep it," I replied quickly. No need for you to be totally freezing. "We'll survive."

"Aye, don't worry none," the cabbie said from his perch. "We're almost there."

"Thank God," I said looking at the detective who was sitting next to me, not shivering, as though he were immune to the icy wind and falling snow.

"I want you all to remember the roles you are playing," the detective said looking at each of us in turn. He returned to his state of reticence before any of us could reply.

We all lapsed into a cold, uncomfortable silence. I stared out into the frozen hills, hoping to see some form of civilization. Unfortunately, for the next three miles there was nothing to look at but scattered woods and the occasional, but extremely rare house.

"We're 'ere!" the cabbie called, bringing the dog cart to a halt, which nearly catapulted me from my seat.

I looked around, to see exactly where here was. When my eyes settled on what had to be a one hundred year old building, set along a beach that was so covered with snow that the sand was not discernable against the powdery white snow, my heart sank.

"We're gonna be staying here?" I murmured.

"Tell me about it," Becky said with a glum sigh. "Hell, I liked that other motel in Paris much better."

"My opinion mirrors yours," Watson said putting an arm on either one of our shoulders, "but as long as it has a roaring fire inside, I won't mind it. Come along," he said gently pushing us toward the building.

I silently agreed with what the doctor said and stepped into the ancient building, hoping to gain some warmth from the frigid air outside.