A Dish Best Served Cold
Summary: Moriarty is out rule the world once again and he's had it with Sherlock Holmes's interference. He has a plan, but the detective's friends may pay the ultimate price.
DisclaimerAll Publicly Recognizable Characters, Settings, Ideas, etc. are the Property of DiC Entertainment and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The Original Characters and Plot are the Property of the Author. The Author is in no way Associated with the Owners, Creators, or Producers of DiC Entertainment. No Copyright Infringement is intended.
Chapter 3 - Searching for Clues
Wiggins' Flat, New London
Meanwhile the Baker Street Irregulars were trying to figure out how they could help.
"Did Inspector Lestrade ever mention where they were attacked?" Deidre asked.
"No. I don't think she wanted us anywhere near the crime scene." Wiggins replied, "Doesn't really matter anyway, Tennyson was able the hack the information in a couple of minutes."
Deidre looked at the youngest Irregular and smiled, "That's our Tennyson. No computer is safe from him, not even New Scotland Yard." Standing Deidre announced "Well what are you all d'oing just st'anding 'round 'ere for? We gotta check out that crime scene."
The others smiled and followed suit. It wasn't a long trip but unfortunately there were a lot of cops around.
"So what to we do?" Deidre asked as the Irregulars made sure to keep out of sight.
"Hmm…" Wiggins pondered. "We don't want to interrupt the yard's investigation and disrupt evidence"
"Hmp." Deidre snorted, she did not have much faith in New Scotland Yard.
"If only because we do not want to alienate Lestrade," continued Wiggins, in response to Deidre's disdainful response, he turned to Tennyson. "So why don't you fly over and take some birds-eye view pictures."
"Beep beep whurr." Tennyson replied as he rose into the air. The officers noticed; Tennyson was a bit hard to miss but did nothing for they recognized the Irregular and most of them had been expecting them. As long as the kids didn't touch anything the officers were willing to let them take pictures. The few who did voice complaint were quickly silenced.
Tennyson, wanting to be thorough, spent a good half hour taking pictures of the crime scene while Deidre and Wiggins searched the surrounding area for clues. Wiggins had lost the rock-paper-scissors battle and thus, was stuck with searching through the garbage cans. While he did that, Deidre decided to put her con-artist skills to some use.
"Oi Sergeant Murdock," she grinned shyly, "long time no see."
"Not long enough Miss Deidre."
"'Ey don't say that I might get the feeling ya don't like me"
The Sergeant smirked, "Well I wouldn't want that."
"So what can you tell me?"
"You know I can't discuss an ongoing investigation Deidre"
"I know," she sounded despondent, "But ya gotta be able to tell me something. Please sir its Watson." Using her best Oliver Twist 'Please Sir I Want Some More' face and voice combined with a hint of waterworks that would have won her an Emmy (if she had entirely been acting) Deidre got her prey to relent.
"Sigh. Alright but I can't tell you much, certainly not more then Holmes already knows. According to DNA scanners we're dealing with Philip Jackson, Elias MacGyver, and a Josh Broady. MacGyver's a real tech wizard, known to resort to illegal means to fund his research. The others are known thugs for hire. I'd tell ya more but knowing you guys, Tennyson will hack into their files and get you all the info you want."
"Any'thin else?" Deidre asked, using her best puppy dog eyes (which were really good).
"Nothing else. I'm afraid, but I've had to deal with Jackson and Broady before… I know their favourite hangout."
Deidre's face brightened considerably.
Murdock hesitated, "Look I tell you, you tell Holmes and don't do anything stupid—like go to the hangout."
"I won't."
"I'm serious Deidre there are some lonely depraved men at that place. Do you understand?"
"Ya. I understand," she replied in all seriousness.
"Sigh. Alright the place is called The Hole. Now if you're done." It wasn't a question Deirdre turned to go, then stopped, and turned around "Thank you."
Murdock nodded. And prayed he didn't regret his decision to tell her.
Wiggins was still looking through the trash, and Tennyson taking pictures so Deirdre looked up The Hole on a public vidphone, and found that it was located in Whitechaple. The named sent a shiver up her spine, since she had become associated with Holmes she had read up on crime and its history. She would never forget the pictures of the Ripper's victims.
"No way I'm going there if I can help it… but if it would help Watson." She sighed if she came to that bridge she would cross it. Watson had helped her get her first 'A' in biology. She smiled as her mind floated back to the memory of Watson going over the digestive system… While Holmes would occasionally mention what certain poisons did to it. Despite herself she laughed, they were quite a pair and she would do anything to make sure they stayed that way.
"Oi Wiggins find anything?"
"Nothing much just a flyer advertising a one cred per beer night at someplace called The Hole," was Wiggins' answer.
Deidre stiffened, "What makes you think it's important?" she inquired.
"The place isn't local and the trash was removed just yesterday. So someone dragged this piece of paper a long way recently, maybe one of our guys." Wiggins was grateful Holmes had insisted that he learn about the trash schedule in the city (along with the train schedule) because he though it important to have some kind of time table to draw on when sorting through trash.
Deidre nodded, "Ya I learned that The Hole is a favourite hang out for two of those… thugs." Her tone indicated that she had considered far more colourful language to describe the two.
Wiggins stared then guessed, "Murdock?"
"Ya. I know where it is I think we should report to Mr 'Olmes." Wiggins nodded, they waited for Tennyson to finish up. When he was done they headed to Baker Street updating Tennyson on the way as to their finds.
Once they reached 221b they heard music. Wonderful music they looked at each other questioningly. Not wanting to disturb the great detective they decided not to knock but entered quietly. Once inside they saw Holmes playing a violin. Wiggins and Deidre sat down and all three waited for their mentor to finish. After half an hour he stopped and carefully placed his violin in its varnished case. Only when he turned to them did they speak.
"Well Mr Holmes we went to… the scene."
"I see that," he informed them eyeing the dirt on Wiggins's and Deidre's shoes. "What have you to report?"
"Well the names of the guys who attack you are Philip Jackson, Josh Broady, and Elias MacGyver. MacGyver is a tech wizard known to resort to illegal means to fund his research."
Holmes nodded, he had heard of MacGyver before.
"The other two are known thugs for hire who hang out at a place called The Hole located in Whitechaple. If you let Tennyson at your computer he'll be able to pull up their files. Also he took some birds eye pictures of the scene.
Holmes nodded and turned to Tennyson, "If you would be so kind as to retrieve their files, while I change, I should be much obliged."
"Beep-beep whur," Tennyson replied as he went to the computer and did his thing.
Holmes went to his room to changed into Tom Wayne who was known as a sleazy pick pocket down in the Whitechaple area. Tom was thirty-five, had shoulder length black hair and some stubble. He wore filthy clothes that hadn't been washed in way to long and an overall gritty appearance.
When he returned to the sitting room Tennyson had pulled up the files. After studying them a few minutes he got in character and using Tom's voice and mannerisms' told Tennyson to print the photos and leave them on the table. He then addressed all of them and said that he would be gone a while and they could let themselves out. He then added in a serious voice.
"If you want to be apart of this investigation you must do as I say and that includes not going anywhere near dangerous areas such as Whitchaple."
The Irregulars nodded and Holmes turned and left. While Tennyson printed the pictures Deidre went into the kitchen and made them some tea just as Watson had taught her and though she was unable to make cookies that would not put everyone in the hospital, she managed to find some leftovers.
Wiggins had decided to occupy his time reading a book on anatomy Holmes had recommended it.
"I have tea and cookies," her two companions looked terrified, "Relax, I found them, they're leftovers."
"We leave leftovers?" asked Wiggins asked eyebrow raised in genuine surprise (1)
"Apparently."
"So Watson made these huh?" he thought aloud as he took one of the offerings
Everyone was silent.
Finally Wiggins spoke "I miss him but we'll get him back guys don't worry we got Holmes and Lestrade on our side." Deidre managed a smile and Tennyson beeped his encouragement.
00o00
Lestrade meanwhile was looking over the files of Philip Jackson, Josh Broady, and Elias MacGyver. Upon reading that Murdock had arrested the first two on several occasions she got up and heading to his desk, deciding to ask him what he could tell her about them.
When she reached his desk she saw that Murdock wasn't wearing his uniform, well partially, his pants were uniform and he had a uniform sweater and jacket on a nearby coat rack, but his t-shirt was navy blue that had printed upon it in bold yellow letters—I Am A Bomb Technician: If You See Me Running, Try To Keep Up.
She paused a few feet away: "Murdock."
"Hey Lestrade, I was wondering when you would see me. Their favourite hangout is The Hole, it's a bar in Whitechapel and here's the address." He handed her a torn piece of paper from his note pad.
"Thanks" she said gratefully before looking pointedly at his top, "and what's with the shirt?"
"I got it as a joke when I first joined bomb squad, before I decided to try my hand at detecting. It's a favourite. Be sure to nail these guys 'kay?"
"I guarantee it," Lestrade smiled promisingly.
00o00
Back in her apartment, Lestrade had the problem of finding a suitable outfit. To go down in her uniform would be suicide and though her martial arts skills were good enough to deter most if not all unwelcome attention, it would be nice if she could avoid it in the first place. Solution—disguise herself as a guy, problem—that was painful.
Half an hour later Lestrade was set and ready to go (and cursing the breast bindings). She had used some makeup tricks to make herself look like a thirty-five year old man with a large nose and brown eyes. She would have used an elastomask but if anyone notice the red ring which could not always be easily hidden she would be in trouble. She gave herself a bit of a swagger and departed for Whitechapel.
Once at The Hole she looked around. She didn't see anyone but she felt she was been watched. She went inside and headed straight for the bar. She ordered a shot of burgundy and looked for Jackson and Broady. She spotted them seated in a booth a few feet away. Looking for an ideal spot to overhear their conversation she located one in a corner. Problem was it was occupied and its occupant seemed rather tense. He had shoulder length black hair and filthy clothes. A sudden thought struck Lestrade. She looked at the man's hands; the fingers were uncannily long giving the hand a slender appearance despite the grime on them. Lestrade smiled in satisfaction 'Holmes.'
Deciding to simply keep an eye on the group Lestrade continued to sit and drink. (not much she was on duty after all, but she had to keep up appearances). Eventually Jackson got up to leave, Lestrade was about to follow when her eyes met Holmes' and he ever so slightly moved his head a cm to the right then to the left. Lestrade continued to sit wondering what gave her away.
Eventually Broady got up to leave. Holmes looked at her but did nothing until Broady was out the door he then got up and followed suite. Lestrade waited until he was at the door to join the procession. When she got out the door she looked around and saw Holmes. He was leaning against the wall starring into an alley straight ahead. She walked up to him.
"Hey," she said quietly
Holmes nodded and started to walk.
"I put a tracer on him so we can follow at a safe distance, by the way the name's Wayne," said Holmes in a voice that made him sound a bit drunk.
"Carter," said Lestrade in a deep voice "So what gave me away?"
"I heard you order, after the incident with The Woman I started paying a great deal of attention to voices. Your voice may pass for male but it doesn't' fool me… what alerted you to my true identity?"
"Your hands. When I saw that the perfect place to listen to those two was occupied I realised that if I found them, chances were you did to. So I looked at your hands which are rather unique."
"Very good Lestrade," Holmes smirked approvingly, the smile however quickly faded. He was a bit surprised to hear her say 'rather' which last he'd check wasn't in her vocabulary.
'Did I just say rather? Great, Holmes is starting to rub off.' Lestrade mentally griped before asking aloud, "What did you hear?"
"Jackson is leaving the country tomorrow, Broady is vacating the planet. We only need only one of them. Preferably Broady."
"Why Broady?"
"He is privy to more information."
They continued walking for a time until they came to an old abandon building that looked like it would collapse at any moment
"In there?" asked Lestrade
"In there."
"Why can't these guys ever stay in condos?"
Holmes raised an eyebrow. "Shall we?" He headed to the side looking for a window. He found one and went in. Lestrade followed
"Nice of you two to join me." said a voice from the darkness, it was Broady "Don't look so surprised Moriarty knew this would happen he knows quite a bit about you two." He looked at Lestrade and she was suddenly very happy to be dressed as a guy.
"Where. Is. Watson?" Holmes' tone was icy.
"That droid?" Broady shrugged "You named it? It's a compudroid Holmes, not a person."
"Mind your tongue. We did not follow you to hear you insult our friend his location would be a far more desirable topic."
"Dunno" said Broady leaning casually against the wall "you'll have to ask that MacGyver fellow. He took the board."
"Where might we locate him?"
"Like I'm gonna tell you, and don't call in backup Lestrade, if I don't report back by a certain time a certain memory board gets smashed."
Holmes's face resumed its stony appearance.
"Seems we're at a bit of a standstill," continued the criminal. "Look all I know is I get a lot of money, and a shuttle ticked to the moon, for beating up a detective."
"If anything should happen to Watson," said Holmes "You'll not find the solar system a large enough place to keep you safe from me. Your life will end with my hands around your throat." (2)
His tone was darker then Lestrade had though him capable of and was harder then diamonds. Broady looked shocked and took a step back.
"Then I best be going," Broady said after a few seconds, when he had regained his composure and with that he turned and slipped through the window back onto the abandoned street.
Holmes and Lestrade just stood there for a few moments until they were sure Broady was indeed gone. Holmes turned to Lestrade.
"We should go."
"Holmes…." He turned and looked at her. "This isn't your fault."
Holmes said nothing just continued walking, Lestrade beside him. They walked in silence, it was an hour before they reached Lestrade's flat. Lestrade invited Holmes in but the detective simply said, "No thank you Lestrade," and continued on his way to Baker Street.
Sighing Lestrade entered her flat. She made herself a cup of coffee changed, into a black shirt and a pair of what looked like denim jeans (they were a modern day version of it, just as durable but made out of a lightweight fabric that was easier to move in and didn't take so long to dry, a real blessing in London) and picking up a bunch of files regarding recent robberies including the one that started this mess, looked for clues.
Footnotes:
(1) These lines about the Irregulars appetite is inspired and dedicated to Bowen.
(2) The Hands-Around-Your-Throat line is from the 2005 film V for Vendetta.
The next update will be on October 7