The Case of the Nurses Bed part Four

One week two hours later…

…

"No, no, no this will simply not do, it is not suitable at all and I forbid you to even look there, here give that to me." He snatched the newspaper from me and stabbed at it with his violin bow, "I'm aware of two burglars, a forger, a renowned charlatan and several working prostitutes who live at that very same address. That is of course excluding the regular movement of smuggled goods along Bradley Way, which is right behind those lodgings. No Miss Watson, you would certainly not be safe walking to your own front door." He peered closer at the printed address, adjusting his pipe only when the newspaper began to smoulder, "and I believe that particular lodging does not have a front door at all, you would have to access the apartment via a rear walkway in what the indigenous population would call a 'water-alley.' Indeed, the only staircase leading to a lockable door is quite rotten and with the regular flooding it will not hold your weight," his keen eyes shot upwards and examined my figure, "little as it is, certainly not with the amount of manuscript paper you seem to be accumulating." He then peered behind me at my Gladstone bag parked next to the door, "or those medical implements that you haul about. Now this leads me to another issue madam; you should not be constantly offering your nursing services for free, no matter the circumstances, people will notice, soon most of our neighbours will take advantage of your innate generosity and avoid the official medical professionals, the very people who have studied at university and thus need to make a living."

I ignored him and made an effort to bring the conversation back to the matter at hand, pointing at the paper, "gosh do all those criminals really live in that one small building and surely if there is smuggling then the police should do something about it? Oh, here have a scone, I must say they are certainly quite delicious."

He shook his head and made that gurgling noise which I know recognised as his restrained laugh, "you do put too much faith in our local constabulary Miss Watson." Then discarding the afghan, he sprung up and threw the pipe and the paper carelessly back on the settee, snatched his violin and moved over to the window. "No, to be safer you must look further inland or towards the outskirts, remember the closer a building is to the water the more dangerous the neighbourhood. Indeed, there are areas around the river that even I refuse to walk through." He dragged the bow across the instrument with a disquieting recklessness, producing a sound that actually hurt my ears.

"I have tried. I showed you a perfectly decent little place off Cleveland Row yesterday and you told me the building was unsafe to live in." I diligently checked to see if his pipe had set the settee or the paper on fire.

"That address is a misfortune awaiting to happen; it is only a matter of time before the whole south facing wall gives way. Those particular buildings are quite unstable, a gentlemen known in the trade as 'Loose Brick' built them back in 1840. He has since been convicted for fraud under section 83A of the crimes act, relating to false building documents and consequently the death of at least eighteen unfortunate individuals in a warehouse collapse, one of those casualties was related to a former client of mine. No, if you value your life Miss Watson, never walk down Cleveland Row during poor weather and if you must, walk on the Mall side."

"I admit to being defeated, not only do you know every house in London, but you are also intimately acquainted with their poor foundations. Would it be too much of an imposition for you to draw me a map, highlighting the areas to avoid?"

He looked the picture of magnanimous, "my dear girl, most of London should be avoided." Then he swept his bow across the window, "there is evil everywhere. Every street hides its secrets, it alleyways are the veins by which crime pours into-"

"Mr Holmes, there's a visitor."

He was so annoyed at this loud interruption he dropped his bow and precious violin onto the settee, causing the pipe to fall onto the floor and then thrust both hands into the air, "would you please knock before entering in future Mrs Hudson."

"Sorry I'm sure, (she smirked) but as Miss Watson was aboot I thought it safe to enter. Yer noo to misschief mind?" She narrowed her eyes and looked pointedly at me, "aye, an you hav'n bin warned about him."

"Yes, yes, yes Mrs Hudson, your persistent warnings and the regard you hold for Miss Watson's virtue are much appreciated, though hardly warranted."

The old lady seemed little impressed, "we'll see. Besides, this here gentleman was at ma heels, so I didna-kin t'knock."

"Ah, Inspector Lestrade, you are in a hurry I see," he rubbed his hands together in glee, "the infamous note book still gripped in your right hand, hat pushed back, coat collar un-straightened; indeed this does look promising. Take a seat, Miss Watson was just leaving."

The Inspector looked at me with a shy smile, lowering his head, "It is good to see you again Miss, I hope you an't suffering under the present circumstances." He glanced somewhat unsubtly at Mr Holmes.

"No more than to be expected Inspector, it is good to see you too. How is that foot?"

"As good as new Miss." He raised his leg upwards, "better in-fact."

"Nonsense Lestrade, you have only just creased limping and I do believe that those shoes have been especially adapted to accommodate your now disfigured ligaments, a pretty penny they cost from your merger earnings I'll bet."

"Now, now Mister Holmes, Miss Watson did a wonderful job considering-"

"Just ignore him Inspector, he is obviously under an obligation to point out faults in everything this morning. Now do have a nice scone," I thrust the full plate of scones into his hands and politely ignored Holmes resulting scowl. "All we need is some fresh tea." Then noticing the equally sour look on Mrs Hudson's face I hurriedly added, "which of course I will fetch up presently."

"Yes, off you go madam," Mr Holmes raised his hands into the air again, wiggling his fingers.

"Och-noo, me precious rug!" Mrs Hudson suddenly flew to the settee, lifted her skirts and started stamping with some urgency on the floor below it. "Heaven help us Mr Holmes, ye'll be hav'n us scorched in our cots for sure!"

There was indeed a small patch of smouldering rug below her boots.

"We are not in our beds now madam, however damage has indeed been done," he pointed to the broken pieces, "my pipe!"

"Aye, an my goud rug Mr Holmes!"

"Now, now, I'm sure the rug can be easily mended... well somehow and Mr Holmes you have several other pipes so you needn't grumble. Meanwhile I'll fetch that pot of tea and perhaps while you gentlemen talk in here, we can indulge ourselves to a nice long chat in the kitchen Mrs Hudson. Indeed I distinctly saw Mrs Nuggin's visit this morning, you must tell me the news, now come along."

"Yes goodbye ladies, here is the door, out, out, both of you, the Inspector and I need some harmony and there is little to be had with all this female gaggling."

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… for Argos