Hello, readers. If you're a Sherlock Holmes fan, you're in for a treat today: you'll finally be able to read the adventure of the lighthouse, the politician, and the trained cormorant. Yep, that one. Finally, the bizarre noodle implements of this adventure will be explained. On with the show!

The Adventure of the Trained Cormorant

As I have previously alluded to in my stories, there are several of Sherlock Holmes' adventures which have not yet been published, for some reason or another, be it too recent in the public's memory, or not being a good showcase of Holmes' talents. One of these many stories is that of the lighthouse, the politician, and the trained cormorant. I have gotten many letters from my readers asking what this story pertains to, and I have finally decided to publish it for my viewing audience.

It was a glum day in the beginning days of 1897, and Holmes had not found any cases of interest during the Christmas time, but this was typical. Thus, it was to our surprise that at precisely noon, a man knocked on the door.

Answering it, I saw that it was actually two men, which Holmes had no doubt already figured out in his own peculiar way.

One of them, undoubtedly the one who had knocked, was a short, stout man, wearing a cheap bowler hat and a suit that was cheaper still, and could hardly be described as fitting. He seemed very impatient, as he kept tapping his foot and checking his cheap watch.

The other man, just behind him, could almost be considered his exact opposite. A tall, thin, glum fellow, his suit was of the utmost fashion and design, though his eyes were sunken and his back slightly hunched.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" I asked.

The short man spoke up, in quite possibly the rudest manner I have ever heard.

"Listen, we haven't got all day, so could we make this quick and dismiss with the pleasantries?

"Oh, certainly." Said I, not very excited at this prospect.

The fat man pushed me aside and walked up the stairs, followed by the tall man.

"Well, then!" Said I, following them up the stairs.

"Strange," Said Holmes upon our entrance, "I had guessed there were three of you. Anyway, what troubles you?

"I'll explain," said the tall man, in a slow, deep voice.

"Our associate, Mr. Ruthers, is a politician from America. He recently hired us to run a bank he started just last month. It is an old lighthouse that fell out of use, due to the sea industry falling apart in that area during the war.

"In the bank was a large amount of money, close to seven thousand pounds. There are many guards all throughout the bank, each posted at one of the staircases. The guards are on twenty-four hour shifts, switching out for a different set of guards every twelve hours. The main vault, where the majority of the money is located, is at the very top of the lighthouse, and cannot be accessed without being seen by the guards.

"Does anybody guard the main vault?" Asked Holmes.

"Indeed, although he is very bad at his job. He rarely appears at all, and when he does, sober is the least accurate word to describe him. Despite many complaints, from both staff and customers, Mr. Ruthers had insisted that he stayed.

"What is his name?

"Ay, that's the strangest part. Whenever we asked for his name, he refused to tell us. We don't know if he has any relation to Mr. Ruthers, but it is still possible.

"The reason we want your services is because we have suffered from…

"A robbery," finished Holmes.

"Precisely, and it was from none other than the main vault. Over five thousand pounds were stolen. Not only that, but the guard and Mr. Ruthers have both disappeared without a trace.

"Indeed! These details are more fascinating. Come, Watson, we should go to the bank and see what evidence has been left so we may formulate a conclusion.

The short, rude man spoke up again. "We have a cab outside, if you must investigate. I say good riddance to that incompetent sod, anyway.

We followed him, opening the door and hardly bothering to prevent it from closing on the tall man.

"Come on, then!" He exclaimed, somehow already at the bottom of the stairs. "We don't have all day!"

Urged by his rudeness, Holmes, the tall man, and I rushed down the stairs, and were greeted by an impressive hansom upon opening the door.

"Take us to the lighthouse at once," said Holmes.

We all clambered in, and the driver began on his way.

"May I ask what has been stolen?" Queried Holmes.

"Well," started the tall man, "the aforementioned five thousand pounds were stolen, but I had left out the fact that the walls of the vault were completely demolished, and we found this feather." He pulled a black feather from his breast pocket and handed it to Holmes.

"Interesting. I do not think there are any species of bird around here that would have this kind of feather.

"So?" Questioned the short man. "Maybe a bird escaped from the menagerie, somehow."

"And, of course, it immediately flew several miles away to a random lighthouse that had been converted into a bank, only to leave a single feather that would conveniently leave a false trail.

The short man gave a start. "Well, when you put it in those words…

The remainder of the ride was fairly uneventful. The tall man alerted us when we arrived, and exited the cab to begin our investigation.

"One more thing," asked Holmes before entering. "Did Mr. Ruthers have any sort of insurance policy on this bank?

"Yes, actually." Stated the tall man. "He had a fairly large sum available to him in the event of a robbery, from the Wesson Insurance Company in Poole, where our bank is. However, he has not collected it, due to his disappearance.

"Most interesting!" Cried Holmes, opening the door and stepping inside.

The lobby of the bank was a standard affair; several armchairs, some desks, and a large, garish chandelier.

"Come, Watson, we should go to the main vault.

We walked to the nearest staircase, but a guard stopped us.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"I am Sherlock Holmes, and this is my associate, Dr. John Watson. The associates of Mr. Ruthers hired us to investigate the robbery, and his disappearance.

"Oh! You're that consulting detective! Yes, I've read your stories, Mr. Watson. Very interesting, very interesting indeed.

"I must warn you," said Holmes, "My associates accounts are quite thoroughly embellished, and focus more on pointless relationships and meaningless romance than the actual mystery, from what I've read of his.

"Yes, well," I interrupted, "We should be starting on the investigation, should we not, Holmes?

"Oh, yes, certainly! Excuse me, may we go by?

"Of course." The guard stepped aside, and we walked up the stair.

"There are five stories to this lighthouse, and there are guards at each stair, correct?" Holmes asked me, while we were walking up the stairs.

"Of course.

"And they work twelve-hour shifts, before switching out for a different set of them, correct?

"Yes.

"What can you deduce from that, Watson?

"The robber had to have come in during one switch-out, and left during the next.

"There are five stories, Watson. He could not have moved so quickly and avoided being seen. It simply isn't possible.

"Then what solution do you propose, Holmes?

"I have several solutions proposed, but we require evidence. Ah, we are here!

The top floor was mostly indistinguishable from the other floors; rather, it would have been, if the walls were still intact. True to the tall mans word, the walls had been ripped apart, as if someone had set dynamite into it.

"I hadn't imagined the destruction to be this thorough.

"Neither had I. Something must have been hidden in the walls. Hullo!

"What?" Holmes had walked to a section of wall near the window, which was shattered as well.

"This section of wall is not as destroyed as the rest! This must be where the secret was! And look, this window is destroyed, unlike all the others! Yes, that theory is surely correct!

"What theory?

"The walls were destroyed, but this is the only window that got harmed. What can you deduce from that, Watson?

"Of course!" I cried. "Somebody broke in here, but instead of going back down the stairs, he simply threw all the money, and whatever treasure was here as well, out of the window into the arms of somebody else!

"Precisely.

"But what of the feather?

"I'm working on that. We should study this window further." Holmes pulled out his lens, and began looking at the shattered window.

"Hum!" He cried at last.

"What is it, Holmes?

"This thread was stuck in the window. It is the exact same kind of fabric used in the guard's uniforms. The accomplice must have been the guard of this vault.

"And Mr. Ruthers must have been the person who caught the money. How ingenious! Not only would they get the treasure that was here, plus five thousand pounds and the insurance money!

"They would easily become rich. Now, we must figure out what happened last night, and where they've gone.

Holmes picked up a shard of glass, and dropped it out the window.

"What are you doing, Holmes?

"If this is where it was dropped from, somebody had to have been standing there to catch it. By dropping this shard from the window, I can determine where Mr. Ruthers stood when he dropped the money down.

"I see.

Holmes and I walked back down the stairs, but Holmes noticed something I didn't on the next story down: a dead bird of some sort.

"This bird is not one that I recognize. It could be the one that dropped the feather." Holmes picked up the creature. "Aha! It was handled recently, so it must have been used as the signal for the guard to drop the money.

"Indeed!

"Now, we should find where Mr. Ruthers and his accomplice have hidden themselves.

We continued down the stairs, and upon exit, began searching for the shard of glass.

Holmes found it before I did, probably because he had memorized where the window was in relation to the lighthouse, and I ran over at his cry.

Unfortunately, the past night lacked rainfall, and thus there were no prints to be found in the hard dirt.

"Damn it!" Holmes cried. "At least there is enough evidence to show the perpetrators.

Holmes and I walked back to the cab, where Mr. Ruthers' associates were waiting for us.

"Right then, who did it?" Asked the short man.

"You may be shocked to learn that the only reason Mr. Ruthers kept the main guard around was because he was the accomplice in the robbery.

The tall man gave a start. "You don't mean to say…Mr. Ruthers robbed his own bank?

"It was truly ingenious. Not only would he get all the money, but the treasure that was hidden in the walls of the lighthouse, and the insurance money as well.

"Preposterous!" Cried the short man. "This is an insult to all of us, by implying that a man so great as Mr. Ruthers would dare commit such a crime!

"I am also convinced that there is no such person as Mr. Ruthers. When I return to Baker Street, I shall consult my files and see if this so-called politician is really who he says he is.

"Worse and worse! Even if Mr. Ruthers committed the robbery, which he didn't, the concept of him having a false name and identity is more ludicrous still!

"What if you are proven wrong?" Insisted Holmes.

The short man began sputtering, and I was worried he would have a seizure or heart attack.

"I believe we should return to your home." Said the tall man.

"Of course." I opened the door to the coach, and Holmes, the tall man, and I left the short, angry man to fume in rage.

"If this man is really a politician, I should have something under Ruthers in my files."

We had returned to Baker Street, and Holmes was looking through his files.

"Just as I thought.

"What?

"There is no such person as Mr. Ruthers.

"You are right, then! We should go to the Wesson Insurance Company to see if this imposter has collected his money.

"Undoubtedly, he already has. Not only am I sure of that fact, but I am sure of another fact.

"What?

"The 'associates' we met were none other than the robber and his accomplice!

"Incredible!

"It certainly is, and I believe I know how they committed this crime.

"The bird we found was a cormorant, and undoubtedly a trained one. Mr. Ruthers would send the bird up, as a signal for the guard to throw down the money he stole. Adding to that, he destroyed the walls, searching for a treasure that was rumored to be there. This, added to the insurance money, would have made them rich. They are most likely headed for a boat heading off the Thames, and headed towards America, where they will settle down with their newfound riches, or possibly begin a new fraud.

"We must catch them, Holmes!

"I have already alerted Scotland Yard to be on the lookout for them. They will not get away, Watson, even if I have to fight them myself.

"But why did they ask us to investigate?

"To lead us on a false trail while they got their insurance money and escaped.

"I'll get a cab so we may head to the launch.

I rushed out of the room, nearly running into Mrs. Hudson, and ran down the stairs and through the doors, immediately hailing a cab. However, the first cab that came up, to my surprise, was carrying the imposters.

Holmes walked out, having followed me. "I assume these are the men trying to escape?

"Indeed," said one of the detectives. To my surprise, the detective that stepped out was none other than Gregson.

"Gregson!" Greeted Holmes. "I haven't seen you for quite some time."

"Nor I you. Are these the men you were after?

"Indeed. May I finally ask what your names are?

"Yes." Said the short man. "I'm Alfred Jones, and this dullard is James Moriarty.

Holmes and I stepped back, horrified that this man in front of us was Holmes' greatest nemesis, the man thought to be presumed dead, the greatest criminal genius in history.

"What?" He asked. "You didn't really think you were the only one that survived that fall, did you?

Gregson pushed him back into the coach.

"You know, I've often fantasized about escaping from prison, Holmes. Perhaps we will meet again someday?

"I doubt it." Holmes was trying to sound intimidating, but his voice was shaky anyway. "Your entire gang has been demolished.

"Surely not the entire gang. Until next time, Holmes."

Gregson climbed back in, and the coach drove off, carrying the most dangerous man in the world.

"Good Lord." Holmes stumbled back, supporting himself on the wall. "All this time, I had not thought Moriarty had survived, but to know now that he is…we must be careful, Watson. The most advanced prison in the world could not hold him.

We walked back inside, still horrified by this recent turn of events.

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Well, there's a plot twist for you. Thanks to TheLiberalAdmitted for reviewing my story, and I hope you liked it. The next part should be up…eventually.