The Adventure of the Curse of Two

Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock Holmes; that honour is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's estate--well, some of it's pretty free-domain, but whatever. XD

KS: Hullo there, everyone. Welcome to chapter the second of The Adventure of the Curse of Two. I'm very glad that you're interested enough to continue reading!

A quick note about this story: I have absolutely no idea how London was made up in Victorian times. I don't know which street goes where...XD

I asked an English friend of mine if she knew--she grew up in London--and she didn't, either, so I have to be fairly vague in locations. I only know a little bit about counties, a little tiny bit about London, etc. I have a very good eye for the canon, and can remember all sorts of little trifling things, but I have yet to find a really good, informative map of Victorian England...XD

I'm sorry if the chapter seems a little odd--I'm quite tired while I'm writing this.

I had to pack a small bag to take along, for Holmes informed me we might possibly be gone for a day or two. So, it was a few minutes before we rejoined the Chattertons on the street below.

We got into the cab and set off immediately to the brother's home.

Holmes was surprisingly talkative after finding that young Charles was a cellist and that William--though not a musician--had a taste for music. That conversation and the ones that branched from it took up a large part of the ride, Holmes of course not missing an opportunity to discuss his favourite composers, pieces, and even getting into a slight debate over the merit of German composers.

We reached the Chatterton house in a time that was much longer than it seemed, and disembarked from our cab. The house wasn't opulently showy, but had a repressed sort of dignity about it. Despite its light refined charm, I found myself deeply impressed by the story of death and mystery surrounding it. Five people and a hound were dead already at the hands of whatever evil presence that was haunting this place, be it man or otherwise.

I saw Holmes studying the outside with his keen, grey eyes. His mind, I knew, was prepared to take in every detail and unravel this case. He turned quickly and stiffly to young Charles.

"The bodies, I expect, have already been to the coroner?"

"Yes, sir," Charles replied. "None of them have had any marks of violence, just as the first two did not. No trace of poison, either."

Holmes's brow furrowed slightly, and his eyes for a moment had that far away look, but it soon cleared and he turned to the other brother.

"I would like to see Mr. Hopkins now." said Holmes.

"Of course, right this way, Mr. Holmes." William said, walking toward the house.

As we entered, I was immediately struck by what the one maid described as an ill feeling. The boy that met us as we entered looked pale and jumpy, as did the maid that took our hats.

"How many servants have you in the house, counting the deceased?"

"Nine. There were four maids, the cook, the butler, the boy, and two stable boys. Three maids, the cook, and the butler have died."

"And Samuel." said the boy timidly.

"Samuel? The dog?" Holmes asked. The boy nodded. Holmes patted the boy's shoulder sympathetically, looked at the maid, who was sobbing quietly, and turned his attention to the Chattertons again. "I will want to interview the remaining servants later." said he.

William nodded. "Of course, Mr. Holmes. Annie, is Mr. Stanley Hopkins still here? The Scotland Yard Inspector?"

The maid nodded, wiping the few fat tears from her eyes with a handkerchief she had pulled from her apron pocket. "Yes, sir. He's just 'round back. He's checking the scene for traces, he says."

Holmes let a small chuckle. "He's an energetic lad." he said. "Come, Watson. Mr. Chatterton, if you would please lead the way."

As we made our way through the house, Holmes looked around with the most intense concentration. I didn't know if he saw any clues, but as we stepped out of the house into a small, well-kept garden, his face softened slightly.

"Ah, Hopkins! Have you made anything of the case as of yet?" he cried.

The young inspector straightened up and turned quickly to face my companion, the surprise written on his face quickly was replaced by a smile of recognition.

"Mr. Holmes!" he said cordially, making his way carefully across the yard. "It's a pleasure to see you here, indeed!" The younger detective looked upon my friend as a student would look upon his master. "No, sir, I haven't made anything of it yet, but I'm sure I shall get it soon."

"What have you done so far?" Holmes asked.

"Well, sir, I've heard both the Chatterton's stories, the coroner's reports, and I've searched the house--though I'm sure you'll still want to see the rooms where the dead were found. Just now I was searching the yard for footsteps, thinking I might find some from when the dog was killed, since the area around where the dogs are kept is perfect for leaving traces."

"But it has rained a good deal since then." added Charles.

"Unfortunately, due to that, I can only make out a very vague imprint here and there." said Hopkins.

"So how many dogs are there?" Holmes asked.

"There were two--one is left."

Holmes nodded, and walked without a word to where Hopkins had been examining the ground. He laid low, drawing out his magnifying lens and studying the traces as well as he could. All the while, the dog barked furiously from inside his kennel. Holmes stood, having satisfied himself, and put away his lens.

"Mr. Chatterton, I'd like to see the servants now, please."

KS: I hope you enjoyed it! I think this story is going to be a lot shorter than I thought...XD

But I'll try to give it some really nice spice coming up soon:D