LMJ Rewrite
Chapter One: The Hand That Feeds, Part Three
"So this is the famous Scotland Yard, is it?" The dog questioned as he followed Ernest and Katrielle to the large, formidable building.
"I did say this was where we were going." Katrielle replied. "Is something wrong?"
"Well, it's not much of a yard, and it's not in Scotland, either." Dog observed, as they approached the entrance. "As a dog who likes open spaces, both revelations are a bit of a disappointment."
"Well, don't worry about it." She shrugged. "We won't be here too long."
Ernest shushed the small basset, reminding him not to 'bark' while they were inside.
They roamed down a few corridors before reaching the hall Kat was looking for.
"I say, I've never been in this part of Scotland Yard before." The uni-fresher remarked.
"Inspector Hastings." Kat called out as soon as she spotted him.
"There you are- When did you start pickin' up strays, Kat?" Hastings raised an eyebrow at the canine companion.
"This is your star witness, Inspector. He knows who did it!" She proclaimed.
"Oh 'e does, does 'e?" Hastings asked, not even bothering to try and hide his skepticism.
"Mm-hm!" Kat nodded to confirm.
"And does this star witness 'ave a name?"
"His name...? What was it again?" Kat pondered aloud. He never did say what his name was, did he? I suppose I'll have to come up with one. "Sherl." She finally answered.
"Sherl?" Both Hastings and the dog repeated in surprise and disbelief respectively.
"Prove it." Hastings said. "Call to 'im."
"Very well." Kat answered, a tad nervous as she kneeled to the dog's level. "Sherl, come here boy!"
She winked at him as an indicator for him to play along, and promptly he did, strutting up to the young woman, who gently ruffled the top of his head in response. She then stood, confidently facing the police inspector.
Hastings shook his head. "Alright, well let's get at it, then. Everyone, stay close."
"No need to remind me, Inspector." Kat retorted. "I've been in the serious crime division dozens of times!"
"Wha-" Ernest blinked, taken aback.
"Oh, that's right. Your brother works 'ere." Hastings acknowledged, much to the teen's relief.
They were taken to a room, where PC Beate asked if they were ready to begin. Hans from the clock tower was there, seated, alongside a near identital man, who was standing next to him. The dog -or rather, Sherl- was picked up and placed on the counter so he could have a better look, assured that the 'window' was actually a one-way mirror, meaning the eight men all vaguely resembling the description provided by Hans wouldn't be able to see them.
"Now it is possible our man's not even 'ere." Hastings reminded Hans and Sherl. "If that 'appens, you can say it's none of them."
A few minutes went by, without a response from either.
"It's hard to say." Hans answered when asked if he recognised any one of the suspects.
"Did he have any particular accessories, perhaps?" Kat asked, primarily to Sherl.
Hans pondered the question over, clearly trying to recollect the events of last night.
"He was wearing hat and scarf at the time." He finally answered.
"Put on your 'ats and scarves." Hastings requested as he spoke into the microphone.
And all eight suspects did, though a few were hesitant.
"That's him! That's him!" Sherl exclaimed.
"Which one?" Ernest asked him.
"The one with the striped scarf!" The dog answered.
"It's number three." Ernest conveyed to Hastings.
"It's number three." Hastings repeated into the mic, much to the defeat of the now apprehended crook. "I don't believe it. It's Buster Nicks, of all people!"
"Who's he?" Ernest asked.
"He's a career criminal." Katrielle explained. "It isn't the first time he's been in."
"And it won't be the last." Hastings added. "Wouldn't surprise me if 'e was in on another case!"
"Inspector!" PC Beate re-entered the room. "The missing 'and still 'asn't been found."
"And the ambassador arrives tomorrow."
"Excuse us." Hans piped up. "My bratsy Aleks and I have idea."
"I will need to start right away." Aleks started off. "But I could /bake/ temporary replacement hand out of biscuit. It should last until ambassador goes home!"
"A clock hand made of biscuit?" Ernest raised an eyebrow.
"I run the pâtisserie on Chancer Lane." Aleks explained. "I've made larger orders before, this will be nothing!"
"The diplomatic party went off without a hitch! And the best part: No one was the wiser that there was a false minute hand." Kat concluded her story.
A few days passed since the incident took place. Kat was enjoying some drinks with her brother and his assistant over a rare quiet moment at the Mystery Room, while sharing with them how the case of the missing hand went down.
"'Was' implies it isn't there anymore." remarked Alfendi.
"I wouldn't think so." Lucy spoke. "Seeing it rained yesterday."
Installation on a new permanent hand began the night after the ambassador left, and was complete by the following morning." Katrielle explained.
"So they never found the original." Alfendi stated in response.
Kat shook her head, confirming just that. "Presumably, it had been melted down and distributed. Actually, come to think of it, Nicks never did explain what his motive was, other than he was hired by someone to steal the minute hands; he had the intention of stealing all four, but had to make a break for it when he was spotted by Hans. Anyway, he wouldn't tell us who his buyer was, going as far as to claim he didn't know."
"Well knowing his background, it is most likely he was telling the truth." Alfendi stated. "He doesn't usually make such grand thefts like this unless he is heavily compensated."
Kat was left perplexed. For the most part, the mystery /was/ solved, all aside from the unknown buyer. That little detail bothered her way more than it should have! Especially when she knew nothing could really be done about it. Perhaps that was why, she decided.
"Al! Alfendi!" A sickly woman with long black hair rolled in. "Are you in?"
"Oh, hello Florence." Kat greeted.
"Long time, no see, Kat." Florence replied. "You know the drill: I've got a new case for your brother."
"That's my cue to go then." Kat said, gathering her belongings.
"Like always, for your safety, dear sister." Al replied.
"You both really should come visit me sometime." said Kat on her way out.
"Only when it will be probable." Al nodded.
"Aye." Lucy concurred. "We'll see you around, Kat!"
The trek from Scotland Yard to the Layton Detective Agency was only about five minutes by bicycle (eight to ten in inclement weather). Katrielle had returned to see she the first of the pair to arrive, with Ernest turning up on his bike not even two minutes later.
Inside, their newest client was already waiting. Though between all the latest events, progress on Sherl's case was rather slow-going to say the least!
So now was as good as time as any to make some leeway in his case.
"Alright, Sherl." Kat said, as she sat in her chair. "So far all we know is that you're a dog with total amnesia. And that most people can't hear you talking. Any other clues? Some faint memories, perhaps?"
She wouldn't normally be this insistent, but given that she had so little to go on in the first place. Not to mention he still hadn't signed a contract with her-
The dog nearly gave himself a headache trying to recollect what few memories he still had. "I've got a vague memory of a tower or something falling down." He answered at last. "And then lightning flashing across the sky."
The humans, who had been listening intently, were both not only surprised, but also a little disappointed.
"That's it?" Kat raised an eyebrow.
"Goodness. Golly, not much to go on, is it?" Ernest remarked.
"Who asked you?" The dog snapped.
"It certainly isn't..." Kat concurred with her assistant, sighing in discouragement. An idea then came to her. "How about this: Since I will inevitably have future enquiries, I'll take on yours, en passant."
"En pass-ant?" Sherl repeated, perplexed.
"Meaning I'll solve your case while taking on others as well." She elaborated.
In a flash, Kat swiped a copy of her contract for her customers, then scurried to the desk to fill in the blanks on the dog's behalf.
"You said you can't remember your own name, so we'll have to give you one in the mean time." She said, tapping her pen a few times. "Why don't we stick with Sherl for now?"
"It sounds like a girl's name!" He shouted.
"Au contraire, I took inspiration from one of the most famous detectives of all time." She explained. "I think it suits you, so don't yap, Sherl!
"Stop calling me that!" Sherl barked at her.
"Shirley, there's no need to get angry." Ernest joined in on the teasing, bemused.
-End of Chapter-