The Persian and the Detective

by Moon Dragon Rebel

In this story, I used the character of Sherlockitty instead of the more human version. So, the Egyptian ambassador has lost his prized cat, and consulting detective Sherlock Homes is sent to find her, leading to surprising twists and turns, eventually culminating into something much larger than Sherlock or John can predict.

2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Egyptian ambassador to England lived near Hyde Park, in a large villa towards the end of Stanhope Street. The outside was rather grand, decorated with marble Corinthian columns, used to support a porch made of more modern composite wood, more likely to survive the harsh English climate. The interior resembled a palace one would expect to find on the backs of the Nile, with gold and onyx decorated floors, walls painted with pictures of storks and crocodiles, statues of Anubis guarding the ambassador's bedchamber. It was to this villa that Sherlock and John summoned a cab to, and by the time they arrived, the police had already roped it off, and their cars had formed a barricade at both ends of the street.

Sherlock galloped ahead of John, who not being small enough, had to duck under the police tape. By then Sherlock had already reached Lestraude, who was reclining against the hood of a car, and was with an elder woman, who looked somewhat shaken. "Morning Sherlock, John," Lestraude greeted them amiably. Sherlock hopped onto the hood of the car and sat up tall, to better make eye contact with the DI. "This is Mrs. Somers, the ambassador's housekeeper", Lestraude introduced them. She was about 55, short and stacked, like most women her age. She had on a calico-printed dress, a white apron, and had a handkerchief balled in her right fist. "She was in the house about the same time the intruder came in," Lestraude explained. "She hasn't spoken much since we got here, she's pretty shaken. Sherlock, you can question her to get the information you need, but for God's sake, please try not to traumatize her even more."

Sherlock walked on the car hood and stood up, to better make eye contact with the help. "Alright, where were you at 2:34 am this morning?" Sherlock began with. "I-I was in the spare b-bedroom." Mrs. Somers stammered. "Did you hear anything out of the ordinary? Unusual?" Sherlock grilled. "Y-yes, but I thought it was Mr. Habib, so I just went back to sleep" she muttered. "You bloody fool! Did you not even stop to think about how unusual it would be for your boss to be walking about at 2 in the morning? Did the possibility of an intruder not even cross your mind?!" Sherlock put his front paws on the woman's shoulder and looked her straight in the face, he was by now pretty cross. "Were you actually so stupid as to not even entertain the idea of an intruder breaking into your boss's multi-billion pound house, filled with just about anything of even minor value?! HOW COULD YOU BE SO BLOODY IGNORANT?!" Sherlock roared at her.

By now Mrs. Somers was sobbing hysterically, and shaking visibly. "I didn't mean to be so ignorant!" she cried, indignant. "I heard the footsteps going up the stairs, towards Aziza's room! They were very heavy and clumsy sounding, like a puppet's steps! Then I heard a yowl, and nothing else! Please leave me alone!" "Don't get so worked up, I only did that to get answers," Sherlock purred, before leaping off the car hood and sauntering towards the house. "Mrs. Somers will need a shock blanket right about now," he called casually to Lestraude and John, the former who groaned and muttered something, the latter, with a shake of his head, following his colleague into the house.