In the life of a criminal working for an underworld organization; each partner, co –conspirator or assistant assumes a pseudonym. In this kind of work, a real name would mark a person for the next killing or cause for their arrest when one is "off the job" so to speak. The less the people in that organization know about a person the greater the chance for survival. One way for this to happen is to be the least liked person in the situation. This way questions aren't asked.

"Hodgins! Brown wants this message typed and sent to the address on the paper then burn it." I looked up from my typewriter to see a disgruntled Grimm standing in front of my desk looking down at my work.

"Yessum. I'll get this typed up an' I'll get to ya in a little bit. After all you'm not a gentle bloke." I flashed my trophy of rotten teeth at him. Grimm glared back with disgust for a second before his eyes shifted through the window of the office, his body tensed when John Brown was seen sitting on a bench talking to an associate near the office. My eyes had followed his and I quirked an eyebrow. I smiled flirtatiously

"Sending messages to ya lady friend. What will she do if she found out youra polygamist? Oh,the tragedy."

"Just do it." Grimm gritted as he left the room. I stared at the paper that I was expected to type and send.

"534 C2 13 127 36 31 4 17 21 41

Douglas 109 293 5 37 Birlstone

26 Birlstone 9 47 171"

Douglas Birlstone, a man who had done the dirty work for Brown once. He refused to do it a second time. I stared at the coded message knowing full well that this was not Brown's hand writing. With further analysis, the innocent looking address stood out. "221 Baker Street". A memory flashed into my mind, A newspaper clipping pinned to John Brown's wall had an advertisement for a consulting detective of the name Sherlock Holmes right below was the address: 221 Baker Street. 'So this is how it is.' I thought back to when I had known that Grimm seemed to be on edge as of late. Obeying Grimm's earlier demands, the message was typed. I sent for a message boy to immediately send the script. My steepled fingers tapped my mouth as I stared at my typewriter. 'I will have to keep this message secret but knowing Brown he has people who might suspect him, after all he refused to kill a man it should be a dead giveaway. They'll know that he's up to something. I can't protect him in my position I can't notify Scotland Yard he was only seen as an asset of sorts. If worse circumstances come I may have the detective get involved. He would be able to help him.' With a blur of fingers I typed a second message giving thought into the detail. Finally finished I sent for a second Courier. 'I must see how good this detective is first.' The side of my mouth quirked into a quick smile before disappearing into a mask of concentration as another thug walked into the office.

Dear Sherlock,

I will go no further in this matter. He suspects me. I can see that he suspects me. He came to me quite unexpectedly after I had actually addressed this envelope with the intention of sending you the key to the cipher. I was able to cover it up. If he had seen it, it would have gone hard with me. But I read suspicion in his eyes. Please burn the cipher message, which can now be of no use to you.

-Fred Porlock

With relief I sealed the letter without any mishaps. Too many people came into the typing room for anyone's liking.

"Willie!"

"Yes, Marm."

"Take this to the mail delivery man."

I grabbed a third sheet of paper and rapidly typed up a note.

Fred Portlock,

I have received the news that a Mr. Birlstone will be killed if however by my intervention I will be able to save him. Meet me at the dock in the cabin of the ship, Lanyard. We will discuss details on saving him.

Yours Sincerely,

SH

Slipping the telegram into my petticoat pocket I closed the office and went to the hotel most of Brown's men had stayed at, I grabbed small wire tools to pick locks, a basket full of coal and headed toward Grimm's room. Finding the hallway momentarily clear I listened at his door for any noise coming from the other side, none came. In the process of picking the lock footsteps were resounding down the hallway meaning I had little time to get in the room, in my haste my wire fell to the floor giving a dull metallic sound as it hit the floor. I turned around in time to see a "colleague" walk in sight as he climbed the last steps. I moved the wire just under the door with my foot and moved to the middle of the hallway.

"You bugger! Get your arse here and help me with this 'ere coal!" The man called Billy sneered

"You got up here you can carry it the rest of the way to the meetin', hag. I'm in a 'urry get out of me way." He shoved past, walking away to climb another set of stairs at the end of the hallway.

"Arse!" I growled loudly. Billy merely smirked and disappeared from sight. I finished unlocking Grimm's door. I scanned the contents of his person free room looking for any clues hinting that he was the one who wrote the letter. I grabbed his ink and parchment, thesaurus and set them in a blanket underneath the coal in my basket. I messed up his belongings to make it look like his belongings had been ransacked. 'That should keep him from acting suspicious for a little bit, hopefully he won't do anything stupid.' I exited the room relocking it. 'Time to plant evidence!' I headed toward Billy's room on the next floor before the meeting. After all an old 'crony' carrying coal can take a while.