A Case of House and Holmes
By Michael Weyer
Yes, I know, it's been a LONG time since I did anything with this story. I do apologize, got caught up in my various other tales and personal stuff along with a case of writer's block. But I figure it's high time I try to find a way to wrap this up so here goes. I hope it's worth the wait.
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For a man who maintains how much he dislikes fame and the attention of the public, Holmes is not above using his influence to try and gain favors. It is rare for him to go so high up in the chain of authority but the possibility of an epidemic spread by smuggled plants did seem to warrant the move.
Lestrade was alarmed when he heard what Holmes was telling him of the pollen laced with the deadly poison. He contacted his superior who contacted his superior and before long, Holmes was in deep conversation with the head of Scotland Yard himself. I was not privy to the meeting due to the fact that I was busy at the hospital seeking more clues into the way the curare was mixed in with the pollen.
From the brief account Holmes gave, the head of the Yard seemed dubious at first as to this entire theory. For all his intelligence in solving crimes, it would appear the man's understanding of medicine was not the best. He was wary of Holmes' statements on the danger but Lestrade spoke on Holmes' behalf to let the Chief know that if Holmes was convinced of something, it was best to listen to him.
I must admit to being disappointed to not being there in person to hear Lestrade tell the Chief (as Holmes quoted) "Sir, if Sherlock Holmes were to tell you without any doubt whatsoever that there is a Father Christmas, start hanging up your stocking."
Given all that, the Chief was willing to give some manpower to investigating the warehouse area and try to find the people behind the smuggling. Holmes seemed to accept this but of course had his own plans, as I learned when he returned.
I was in the laboratory working with Chase and Foreman on studying the samples taken from the victims. House, thankfully, was elsewhere, leaving us alone to our work. I was finding the two young men to be very good at their work, despite House's low opinion of them. Chase was still learning but Foreman was quite capable if a bit gruff.
"Every case is the same," Foreman stated. "Intense levels of the pollen clogging their lungs with the curare. The amount wasn't enough to be as noticeable at first examination but was enough to shut down the central systems and kill them."
"If that was from an accidental dose," Chase noted. "Than an intentional one could be worse."
"Actually, it might be less detectable," Holmes said as he entered the lab, tossing his coat aside. "This is a method of assassination meant to be undetectable and appear quite natural. I suspect that whoever is behind this is planning to streamline the process and remove the residue clues."
"How did it go at Scotland Yard?" I asked my friend.
He gave a "humph" sound as he paced across the lab. "There is a fine reason I work on my own so often, Watson. Far too often, the police place their public standing and internal politics above the good of the people." I could see he was fretting to light his pipe but knew it would not be allowed in the hospital. "They will canvass the area but I doubt that they shall find anything worthwhile left."
I nodded. While in no way whatsoever the detective Holmes was, I had enough experience with the criminal element to know that the perpetrators would have not only left their hideout long ago but also cleaned up any evidence of their activities. "So what will our next move be?" I asked Holmes.
He came to the table, looking over the various samples left behind. "There must be some trace of where they took the poppies," he said half to himself. "Lestrade said he would check shipping records but I am certain they will have avoided listing them in so obvious a manner."
"Well, we need to find them fast," Foreman said. "Before they use this again."
Holmes shook his head. "As I said, they intend to use this as a weapon and not in so light a matter."
Foreman sighed. "Maybe. But as careful as they are, there's still the chance the pollen could get out in the public somehow. They might throw some plants away or it could flow out of some sort of opening in wherever they have it."
Holmes nodded in agreement. "Yes…but in a city so vast, narrowing it down will not be an easy task."
A knock on the door got our attention and we turned to see Cameron in the doorway, her expression serious. "We need to get to the main office," she intoned.
"What's wrong?" Chase asked.
Cameron let out a sigh. "I think House has finally lost it."
"He lost it years ago, Cameron," Chase remarked.
"But I think he's crossed the line this time," the young woman said as she motioned to the hall. We fell in behind her, heading to a nearby office area.
Inside, House was leaning on his cane as he faced a large map of London. A series of circles was made around it, ranging outward and a series of pins was marked at several locations. A nearby chalkboard was filled with names and initials, some sort of code that I could not decipher.
"What in the world…" I couldn't help remarking as I saw it.
"Not the world," House remarked over his shoulder. "Just the one section of it although I understand you English do tend to think that is the whole planet anyway." He pushed another pin into the map. "Heaven help us if America ever gets that attitude."
He backed away from the map with a wide grin and turned to us. "Well, my pack of minnows, it would appear that I have figured a way to save this town from possible destruction. Think I'll get a school named after me for that?"
"House, what are you talking about?" Foreman asked as we looked at the map.
"What's the deal with the map?" Chase added.
"I'm planning my long-awaited odyssey to follow the trail of Sir Walter Raleigh," House said in his usual dry manner. "Just sit down and be quiet so you can learn something for a change."
He turned to point to the map. "I've been busy sending telegrams and message boys all over London to check in on other hospitals."
Cameron frowned. "Isn't that expensive?"
"Very," he confirmed. "Thank God I took money from the hospital fund to pay for it or I'd be in trouble." He pointed to some of the pins. "It would appear that we are not the only hospital suffering from a few deaths with the same symptoms as this. Of course, had someone actually listened to me and asked around, they might have found this earlier but hey, why take the extra step when there's a pandemic about to hit?"
"Where did they take place?" Holmes quickly asked.
House motioned to each pin in turn. "Got a few here on the West End, one in central…but the majority of cases appeared to be here." He pointed to an area near the East Docks. "From what I've found out, these deaths go back a few weeks, last case was two months ago."
Holmes nodded as he stroked his chin. "It makes sense…they must have been keeping the plants stacked in a large area for some time. If they weren't careful, the pollen might flow out and been breathed in, leading to death."
"And since we didn't know about the symptoms beforehand," I deduced. "We and the police missed it."
Holmes was peering at the map intently. "The docks…it makes sense. There are several warehouses in that area, not to mention easy access to ships to send the plants out. But it's still a large area to fully examine."
"Which is why I'm narrowing it down more," House said as he studied the pins he put up. "You think about it, this is just like tracking an infection down. You just need to find the symptoms and the effects and narrow it down to the source."
I had to admit to being impressed by how House appeared actually reasoning and I could tell Holmes was, in his own fashion. "That does make sense," my friend agreed as he moved forward to study the map as well. "Presuming, of course, that they did not move the bodies a distance away to prevent just that sort of discovery."
"Ah," House said as if chastising a student. "That's why I've sent the little pack of ruffians to check out some of those sites." He moved to a nearby table where what appeared to be clumps of dirt were spread out. "Thanks to them, I managed to get some samples of dirt from the areas they were found in."
"And that helps us, why?" Chase asked.
"Because, my little blonde moron," House said in that arrogant tone of his. "That dirt had a few traces of a mold substance." He reached to grab a small bag containing such dirt and tossed it over to Holmes.
Holmes held it up to the light and examined it. "Hmmm…a mix of algae and rust…just the sort that would be found at the first three blocks of the dock area."
I had to smile at the looks of amazement Chase, Foreman and Cameron had at Holmes instantly knowing such information. For my part, I had long ago decided to do my best to cease surprise at the limits of my friend's storage of information, no matter how arcane. For his part, Holmes was already showing that look on his face of determined ideas and resolve. "We'd best inform the police immediately."
"Well, sure, you can do that, let them have all the fun," House said as he paced to the table. "But of course, there's no guarantee that they'll be able to get the job done right. And of course, given the way we've seen this crew operate, one whiff of the gendarmes coming and they'll be bolting and we'll never find them."
"And what would you suggest, sir?" Holmes asked. "While I am many things, a soldier is not one of them."
House smiled. "No but I'm betting that brother of yours knows a few."
Holmes' lips thinned. "I am also not a man who goes scurrying to my brother for favors."
"Hey, it's his job, right?" House said as he leaned against a nearby table. "Thought he was hiring you to do that in the first place."
I coughed for attention. "He's not wrong on that, Holmes. Mycroft would have better resources and more…special training for this sort of thing."
Holmes was quiet, obviously mulling over the distasteful prospect of letting his brother have the upper hand. He finally sighed and nodded. "I suppose you are correct, Watson. I'll contact him at once." He moved to get his coat and I did the same.
"I'll be coming with," House said as he rose up.
We both looked to him with surprise. "What for?" I asked.
"Partially because of how charming your brother was the last time," House dryly said. "But also because I want to see how this thing turns out." At our expressions, he sniffed. "Hey, I'm the one who busted my ass helping you both out here! I think I've earned the right to be there when you bring these guys down."
I could not hide my dubious expression. "I'm not certain…"
"Come now, Watson," Holmes said with a slight smile. "I do believe our good Doctor House has at least earned the opportunity to plead his case to Mycroft in person."
I saw the gleam in his eyes and was struck by the fact that while he may seem to tease me at times with how he boasted about his deductions, Holmes saved his true wicked nature for his own brother.
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As usual, Mycroft was at the Diogenes Club when we arrived, slumped in his gigantic chair and having a meal when he saw us. "Sherlock," he said with a nod. "It is good to see you again so soon." He nodded to us. "Dr. Watson…and Dr. House, a surprise."
"I get that a lot," House said as he once more took a glass of wine from a passing waiter's tray and settled into a chair.
"So, Sherlock," Mycroft said as he dabbed at his lips with a napkin. "Where on the East Side are these culprits hiding?"
I know it is wrong but I must admit a sense of satisfaction seeing Holmes as startled by Mycroft's deduction as people normally are with Holmes'. "How in the world…"
Mycroft smiled as he cut up his food. "At the risk of hurting your ego, Sherlock, I do not rely simply on you for gathering information when an emergency to the Crown is at stake. My own sources have been working and had managed to narrow down the source of the pollen to the East Side. However, the exact area is still unknown to us." He chewed on another piece as he nodded to Holmes' pocket. "I assume that bag peeking out of your suit is a sample?"
Holmes did his best to hide his annoyance at Mycroft's behavior as he removed the bag and handed it to Mycroft. Mycfoft looked at it and nodded. "Hmm…East Dock area…" He opened the bag and brought it up to his nose to take a long sniff. "Ah," he said in a knowing tone. "A taste of the Caribbean…yes, that would make sense and add to it.." He sniffed again. "Part of the smell though…" He reached in and placed a finger into the bag, bringing it up to his tongue.
"Nice to see watching you eat isn't the most disgusting thing you can do," House coolly noted.
Mycroft ignored him as he licked his lips and nodded. "Ah…now I can taste it." He looked up at us and smiled. "The Raven."
"Hark nevermore and no idea what you're saying," House intoned.
"The Raven," Mycroft explained. "A diner at the East Side which serves a special stew with a unique flavor."
I was more than tempted to ask exactly how a man who spent almost every day at this Club could possibly know that but decided Mycroft was never going to answer anyway. "How does this help us here?" I asked instead.
The smile on Mycroft's face reminded me that he and Holmes truly were related as he leaned back. "The Raven is near one main warehouse, the only eatery close enough to it to feed a force of workers."
We all exchanged looks at the revelation. Holmes seemed to understand him. "Which means that that some of the workers must have gone there to eat before falling ill."
"Should we tell Lestrade?" I asked.
Mycroft shook his head. "I think the good Inspector has enough on his plate. I believe my own agents can handle this well."
"I wish to be there," Holmes said.
Mycroft frowned. "Sherlock, I appreciate your aid, truly, I do but this is a serious situation…"
"Mycroft," Holmes interrupted. "I will be going with. We can waste precious time arguing or you can admit that I'll win this fight like I always do."
Mycroft's eyes narrowed. "Not always, Sherlock."
"I dare argue that point, Mycroft."
"Argue all you will, Sherlock, we both know that I was always the better debater."
"The master one?" House said with a sly smile.
Mycroft glared at him before returning his gaze to Holmes. "Oh, very well, Sherlock, just to stop you from getting too annoying, you and Dr. Watson may accompany my team."
"I'll be going with," House said.
"That will not be happening," Mycroft declared in a hard tone. "It's bad enough with Sherlock and Dr. Watson but I am not having someone of your…" He paused and looked at the cane. "Difficulties on hand for such an important moment."
House did not seem perturbed but simply shrugged. "Well, if that's the way you want to play it, I suppose." He leaned back to sip deeply at his drink. "Course, I was going to give a little aid in case some of that pollen got out but if you want your agents to choke to death then and there, so be it."
We all paid attention to that. "You have…a cure?" Mycroft said with a dubious expression.
"Not a cure, per se," House said as he put the drink down. "But with a little study, I think I can whip up a bit of an antidote that can stifle the effects long enough to get them to a hospital." He shrugged. "But if you prefer to just give my hospital a few new cadavers, Cuddy would probably appreciate that as well."
Mycroft rubbed his temples, his hefty body shaking as he swiveled his head a bit. "Oh, very well." He looked to Holmes. "I swear, Sherlock, this man can be just as infuriating as you."
"I heartily disagree with that!" House called out. "I pride myself on being far more infuriating that most anyone else!"
That statement did not surprise any of us in the least.
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My travels with Holmes have often involved some danger but rarely have I found myself in the midst of an armed group. The men appeared to be cut from the same cloth: Not quite military but obviously well trained and comfortable with guns. They were dressed in matching black clothing, which House labeled "the latest in 'on my way to a late night brothel meeting wear.'" There were twelve of them in all, waiting at a corner near the warehouse.
The night had a dark chill to it that seemed rather foreboding to us all. I adjusted my dark coat as I tightened my grip on the revolver in my pocket. Holmes had his own gun out while House simply leaned on a wall and examined his fingernails, looking bored at the whole proceedings.
The warehouse itself appeared deserted from the outside during the day but the light from candles within showed there was activity. The leader of the group, who went only by the name of "Smith" was observing the building through a pair of small glasses. "I don't see any sentries," he said in a voice that, while soft, still boomed with authority.
"That does not mean there are none," Holmes said. "This is an efficient operation."
"Some efficiency," House remarked as he scraped his shoe onto a nearby wall. "They could at least clean up the dung around here." He sniffed at the foul odor. "Huh. Now I know why Chase is so upset at being ordered to do this all the time."
Smith glanced at him before going to Holmes. "Does he have to be coming with?" he muttered under his breath.
"I believe Dr. House has too much regard for his own safety to interfere in such a difficult undertaking," Holmes said with a strong look at the man. "Like Dr. Watson and myself, he is merely along to observe."
Smith nodded. "Sounds good. No offense, we know your reputation but this is more our field of expertise." I strongly suspected that expertise was in areas that the general public is not supposed to be aware of.
He glanced around to his men and nodded. They began to file away, their weapons up and ready as they filed toward the warehouse. Holmes stayed back and I could see him wishing for his pipe but knowing better than to light up such an obvious signal. I must admit to having some impatience myself. To be so close to the denouement of this case but unable to personally take part was rather grating.
We watched as the men seemed to melt into the darkness surrounding the building before us, so quickly I could not see where they had gone. I have worked with the military before but these men were different than regular soldiers. I suspected it was better not to ask many questions about their origins or methods.
I glanced over to House, who appeared to be utterly bored at all the goings-on, calm and relaxed instead of the tension Holmes had. I was about to ask him about how he felt regarding this venture when the sound of gunshots echoed in the warehouse. We were all instantly alert as I removed my revolver from my coat. I dislike using it as I am dedicated to preserving life but the Hippocratic Oath was not intended to be a suicide pact.
Sounds of yelling came from the warehouse and it was clear a struggle was taking place. A shaft of light cut through the darkness from the far side of the warehouse. "Someone is escaping!" Holmes called out. "Come, Watson!"
"He's not your dog," House said as we broke off into a run. "True, big enough to be a bear but still…" I ignored him as I did my best to keep up with Holmes, whose lanky limbs were allowing him to stride before me. We could see a figure racing toward the docks nearby where a boat was waiting, men scurrying about to get it underway with its raised sail. The man was thin with a slight build from what I could see as he raced toward the dock.
"Halt!" Holmes cried out as he raised his own gun. "Halt or I fire!" The man did not stop until he leapt forward and landed onto the boat which was already pulling away from the dock. He had enough time to turn his head enough to show a triumphant grin as the ship got underway. There was a dark roaring sound as it suddenly seemed to pick up speed and move much faster than a normal ship would. Within moments, it was headed away from the dock and towards the open water.
I managed to join Holmes, taking a moment to catch my breath. "How…did they get away so fast?"
Holmes was tightlipped as he gazed out. "A new type of steam engine, perhaps. I had heard rumors…" He seemed somehow distant as he gazed at the boat which was already turning into a dot in the horizon. "Too late to get another boat to stop it, damn."
I was startled to hear Holmes actually curse out loud. It told me that there was more behind the escape than seemed obvious. I did not have the opportunity to ask as Smith came up to us. His shirt was partially torn and I saw a cut on one side of his face. "We've subdued them all," he said. "No casualties to our side, only a few alive for them."
"And the British efficiency pays off once more," House sarcastically stated as he limped behind us. "Well, that was certainly bracing. How about a round at my place? I can bring the morphine, you bring the cocaine, smoke a bit of what they've been making here and have a gay old time!"
Once again, ignoring House was a good measure to maintain our sanity.
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Dr. Cuddy did not seem as pleased to be seeing us go as most are. "I want to thank you both for all your help," she said. "I'm just annoyed that you can't seem to tell me more of what happened."
"Sadly, Dr. Cuddy," Holmes explained as we stood in her office. "I am afraid there are some matters of national security. Inspector Lestrade was also unhappy to hear he could not speak of this on record and I am not pleased by it either. However, I do agree with my brother that is better the general public does not know of the exact danger they faced."
Cuddy rubbed at her face. "I suppose you're right. Still, it'd be good to give some sort of closure to things."
"Believe me, madam, I much prefer that as well," Holmes assured her. "But this is one time I am unable to provide such easy explanations for my clientele."
She nodded. "Well, you did manage to solve the case as I requested so I'll see to your payment."
"My thanks," Holmes nodded. "I apologize for that but one must make one's means."
Cuddy smiled as she shook both our hands. "I want to thank you both again and, with all respect, I hope we don't meet anytime soon."
"No offense taken," Holmes nodded. "I must confess to…"
The door burst open as House entered with a bright grin. "Cuddy, my dear!" he called out. "I understand we have a pregnant woman with signs of an odd sort of bleeding downstairs. When can I see her?"
Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "House, Dr. Alisters is seeing her now."
"Allisters is a drunk and an idiot," House said. "I can forgive the first but not the second. Come on, Cuddy, let me have a shot at her."
"House…"
"She's already knocked up, how much damage can I do to her?"
Holmes shot me a look and nodded to the door, indicating this was our cue to leave. I wholeheartedly agreed and we managed to escape as the two began to argue loudly. "There are times, Watson," Holmes solemnly declared as we walked off. "When I believe losing that war was an act of divine providence upon us."
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Night had fallen by the time Holmes and I retired to his study at Baker Street. We had finished our dinner and I was preparing to finish my notes on the case. I knew Holmes would deny me the chance to publish them as Mycroft was insistent we keep quiet over how close London came to being struck by a horrible affliction by the means of secret agents. However, this was not the first time Holmes and I had worked on a case that proved not ready for public consumption. Holmes had agreed that a record would be necessary and would have me write my record out for him to keep to himself.
Usually, Holmes is rather animated after a case is done and takes obvious relish in detailing the reason for the crime, how it was done and, most importantly, how he figured it all out. This night, however, he was silent, playing on his violin but his eyes showing a rare light of distraction.
I was finishing my notations when I looked up to see him staring outward. "What is it, Holmes?" I asked.
He was silent and for a moment I thought he would not answer. I was turning back to my work when he spoke. "This last part is not for the record, Watson."
I looked up, intrigued. "Holmes, I've already promised, this won't be for the magazine. This remains with your personal files."
He took that in before beginning to pace. "You…did not see the man who escaped the warehouse, did you, Watson?"
I shook my head. The aftermath of the raid had been busy with the agents quickly going through the warehouse to inventory the various poppies and ensure none had been overlooked. I did not know what the final fate of the plants would be but was confident Mycroft would find a safe place to store them before their study or destruction. The men working there (three had been killed) had been taken into custody without saying anything.
Holmes tapped his nose. "I saw him briefly before he leapt onto the boat. It was only a moment but was clear in the light." He looked down and side. "It was him, Watson."
"Him?" I frowned. "What do you…" I paused as it struck me. Only one man could get such a reaction out of Holmes. "No…it can't be. He died."
"You thought I did," Holmes pointed out. "I admit, it seems impossible anyone could survive that fall. But then, it seems he does the impossible. And it all fits, Watson. The organization, the use of the plants, even the engine. Only one man could conceive such a vast enterprise."
I was quiet as I reflected upon his words and knew keeping this case quiet would be even greater personally to Holmes. I could only imagine what was going through my friend's mind at the realization that Professor James Moriarty was alive and well and creating some sort of havoc in London.
Holmes sighed as he picked up his violin. "I will inform Mycroft in the morning of this. Moriarty will no doubt keep hidden for some time and perhaps has even fled the country by now."
"What if he returns?"
"Oh, he'll return, Watson, I have no doubt of that," Holmes said as he placed his violin under his chin and lifted the bow. "We shall deal with him then, for the last time I hope." He began to play, letting me know the conversation was over for the moment. As the notes echoed through the small apartment, I felt a chill go through the air. Yet, at the same time, I could not help but think that after dealing with Gregory House, Professor Moriarty would be almost a relief.
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Well, that's that. Thanks for all the great comments to help this along and sorry it took so long to wrap up. But hope you enjoy and never know, I might find a way to work in a sequel someday. Thanks again.
