December 20: "Lestrade doesn't even want to know." (from Madam'zelleGiry)

A/N: Part 2 of 3 of the tale that began in Day 3's story in which Holmes arrives—dripping wet—around ten at night on Watson's doorstep, leaves Toby with him, and doesn't return until half past four, smelling strongly of fish.

I probably spent way too much time (and stayed up way too late) researching Victorian London's docks, but hey, I learned a lot. I just hope it was enough to keep this accurate. If I've made any outrageous errors, please let me know!

Lestrade

After all the years of working alongside Sherlock Holmes, nothing should really surprise me anymore. Unfortunately, the man seems to have in infinite variety of ways of doing so.

For this reason, I was only slightly shocked to answer the door late one winter's evening, and come face to face with a dripping wet consulting detective and a panting lop-eared dog.

"Good evening, Mr. Holmes," I said.

"Evening, Lestrade," he replied. "If you were about to ask me why I am soaking wet—"

"Actually," I interjected, "I've learned to expect that sort of thing from you, and I think our time would be better spent by my asking you what brings you here."

Mr. Holmes gave a twitch of a smile. "Remember Lady Beaulieu's missing diamonds? Well, someone is about to smuggle them out of the country."

"Tonight?" I asked.

"Yes," replied Mr. Holmes, "or rather, extremely early tomorrow morning. Can I trust you to meet me at the Brunswick Wharf at a quarter past twelve?"

"I'll certainly be there," I replied. "Will Dr. Watson be accompanying us?"

The amateur gave a small shake of the head. "I am afraid not. I have already taken Watson along on two nocturnal cases this month, and I would rather not find the limits of his wife's patience for such things."

"Ah, I understand," I replied.

"I will see you at twelve-fifteen," said Mr. Holmes.

I opted not to tell my wife about the puddle of water he left on the doorstep, as she was already none too pleased that work was taking me from her so close to Christmas. But she knew how important it was that justice be done, and two hours later found me preparing to leave.

"I am sure it won't take too long, dear," I assured her. "Try and get a little sleep, and I'll be home before you've missed me."

Helen's lips compressed into a thin line. "Please be careful, and watch out for Mr. Holmes as well."

"Of course," I replied. And I certainly would.

It was dreadfully cold outside, though no snow yet lay upon the ground. I was glad I'd bundled myself up in my thickest ulster, gloves, and muffler, but the chill still penetrated through the layers. I was shivering a little by the time my cab reached the Brunswick wharf.

Sherlock Holmes was waiting for me, also bundled in warmer attire than he had been previously wearing. Probably a good thing too, or the man would catch his death of cold!

"Good evening, again, Mr. Holmes," I said.

"Yes, I thought should find warmer and dryer clothes before going out again," said he, answering my thoughts rather than my words. I decided not to bother asking how he'd known what was on my mind.

"A wise decision," said I. "Dr. Watson wouldn't be too pleased if you fell ill out of sheer thoughtlessness."

"No indeed," Mr. Holmes replied, giving a slight shiver.

"Why the lantern?" I asked, gesturing to the small dark lantern in Holmes's grasp.

"It will be important later," he replied. And as such, the explanation would come later as well, I supposed.

"Now," I said, in a low voice, "where is our diamond thief, and where are the diamonds?"

"A worthy question," he replied. "Follow me."

I gritted my teeth to avoid making a reply I might later regret, and walked with him for two or three blocks, only really conscious of the numbness of my fingers and toes, and a moment later realized we were entering a slightly shabby public house.

A breathed a sigh of relief at the warmth as Holmes led the way to a table in the back corner.

"We can speak just a tad more freely here, I think," said Mr. Holmes in a low voice, setting his dark lantern on the ground next to our table. "I trust it is unlikely you will be recognized in this district?"

"I rarely find myself in this part of London," I replied as we seated ourselves.

"Good," said Holmes. "Now—here are the facts it is necessary I impart. I have made contact with the man who is currently safeguarding the diamonds. He believes that I and a companion have been asked by his superior to accompany him to the ship—"

"Superior?" I asked. "This is an organized group of criminals, then?"

"Very organized, and very careful," Mr. Holmes replied. "And it appears to be quite extensive. But only two of their members are our concern, at the moment. Caulfield, who currently has the diamonds, is scheduled to meet me—"

"But how did you fool him into believing you are one of them?" I interjected.

Mr. Holmes gave an impatient wave of his hand. "It's a long story, and is of no consequence at present. Pray, may I continue without interruption?"

I gave a sheepish nod.

"Now, Caulfield will arrive in approximately ten minutes, and we are to go with him to meet Ogden, who will secrete the diamonds somewhere on board the ship. Now, if I knew for sure which vessel was to be used and where it would be hidden, then perhaps we could have simply found it later, but I was unable to discover either of those things, and their boat could leave as early as five this morning. That is the reason for our midnight excursion."

"Could we overpower this Caulfield and take the diamonds from him?" I asked.

Mr. Holmes shook his head. "I think we shall have to be a bit more cunning. This criminal organization has arranged for sentries to be posted around Caulfield in case something like that should occur. We would quickly become outnumbered."

"Well, I could have asked a couple of trusty—"

"If you had brought along constables, it would only make us look suspicious!" he said testily. "And besides, I told Caulfield there would be me and one other. I was unsure at the time whether it would be you or Watson."

"All right," I said. "What is your plan, then?"

Mr. Holmes shot several quick glances about him, and leaned forward, voice even lower than before. "We do exactly as Caulfield believes we are to do. We accompany him to the boat as his escorts and deliver the diamonds to Ogden, and go our separate ways. Then we shall know which boat it is on. I have instructed my stealthiest street urchin—there he is by that table, and I wager you never would have noticed him had I not pointed him out—he is to follow Ogden, and see where he hides the diamonds."

"And if he is noticed?"

"He will tell Ogden he was looking for a job on a boat, but was too shy to speak up. He probably will not believe that story, but I very much doubt he would harm the child. We will stay within shouting distance, and would be on the scene quickly if he did."

"So what you are telling me," I said slowly, with another glance at the child across the room, "is that the fate of Lady Beaulieu's diamonds are in the hands of a shabby six-year-old."

"He's nearly eight," said the amateur. "And I daresay he will do a better job of this than you or I could."

I heaved a sigh. The situation as really not to my liking, but there was not much I could do about it.

"We are out of time for discussion," whispered Mr. Holmes. "There is our man Caulfield." He nodded towards a heavyset man plodding into the pub. Caulfield glanced around for a moment, before catching sight of us.

"Now Lestrade," whispered Holmes, "remember that you are Mr. Andrew Thornburn, an old school friend of mine, who works for a pawnbroker in Dorchester, and is visiting family in London over Christmas."

"Right," said I, wishing I'd had a little more time to digest that information, and hoping I wouldn't need to use any of it.

"Evenin', gentlemen," growled Caulfield, and took a seat next to me. "I'm Caulfield," he said, offering me a dirty hand.

I shook it. "Thornburn."

He gave a grunt that seemed to be some variant of "Nice to meet you". He glanced at the bare table. "No drinks?"

Mr. Holmes flashed a smile. "We try not to partake while working. Now—you have the goods?"

Caulfield gently tapped a pocket. "I certainly do."

Mr. Holmes stood. "Then it is high time we go. Ogden has never liked waiting."

Caulfield gave a derisive snort. "You've got tha' right."

Holmes snatched up his lantern, and we followed Caulfield to the door of the pub. I had a difficult time taking my eyes off the man's coat. Inside one of those pockets was a collection of some of the most expensive treasures ever to come to our shores, and I would be as helpless to reach it if it were a thousand miles away. It was maddening!

As we reentered the chilly night, I glanced at Mr. Holmes, to see if he was feeling the same frustration, but his expression was calm and serious. Of course—he was a skilled actor as well as a detective. I tried to school my face into a similar expression, but was sure I was not nearly so convincing. I was glad for the cover of darkness, and the thick muffler concealing the lower part of my face.

It was already proving to be a long evening.

A/N: This story will be concluded in tomorrow's post!