Author's Note: I know, I know! I don't own Sherlock Holmes or Dr. Watson or any of Doyle's characters. I wish I did though…
Chapter 4 Scotland Yard Lends a Hand
Even with the detailed notes that Victoria provided, Holmes was nowhere close to finding the missing father after a week of searching and pacing. Holmes went to the house for an investigation while I stayed at home with Victoria. I had not felt well that morning and was told to stay home so I could rest.
"You look like a living corpse," my friend told me with a small smile as he left the house.
"I could say the same thing about you Holmes," I called out to him as he left and heard him chuckle. But I was right, Holmes looked just as bad as I felt. I knew he wasn't sleeping well since Victoria told us of her father's disappearance. I could tell this case was important to Holmes. He wanted Moriarty to be dead just as much as, in my opinion, Moriarty wanted Holmes dead. Finally one day, while Victoria read with her dog at her feet and I smoked my pipe, for I could not stop smoking for very long, Holmes discontinued his pacing about the room.
"I'm afraid I have no choice," he muttered and all three of us looked at him. Sherlock was the smartest dog I had ever met and always watched a speaker with as much interest and intelligence as his mistress.
"You are not going to stop the case, are you?" Victoria asked.
"No, no," said Holmes, waving a hand at her, "The case will continue, but I am afraid I must have the assistance of Scotland Yard. But I shall need a new man for the job, I'm tired of Lestrade and Gregson making fools of themselves. I need someone who will listen to my advice for once."
He took his hat off the stand, put on his jacket hastily, and went out the back door. Ever since Victoria was almost shot, we had been using the back door to go in and out of the building.
Eventually, Victoria left with Sherlock to take him for a walk. She would pull her hair up and hide it in Mrs. Hudson's old hat. The hat was also able to cover her face if she kept her head down. I did not approve of this but she began to get antsy and I eventually agreed, although reluctantly.
"Besides," she said the first time she got ready to leave, "Those men first saw me dressed as a man and only a brief flash of me in a dress."
Still, I would pace the room nervously until she returned. This time, however, it was not Victoria who first came up the stairs. The door opened and Holmes entered with a young man at his side. The stranger could not have been over twenty and had dark brown hair with bright, eager green eyes that were looking around the room and taking everything in. He was tall, although not as tall as Holmes was, and had a muscular build.
"Watson, this is Detective George Phillips," said Holmes as I shook hands with the eager man, "He will be assisting us with our case."
"A pleasure to meet you, Detective," I said with a smile, "Our witness is out at the moment, but will be returning soon. Won't you sit down?"
"Thank you sir," Phillips said and sat down on the couch, watching us all with fascination, "When Mr. Holmes asked for my assistance, I surely thought it was one of my partners making a joke. You are a legend in the detective world, Mr. Holmes."
"You flatter me," said Holmes as he lit his pipe, "How old are you, Detective? You look quite young to be in this field."
"I will be nineteen at the end of the month," Phillips said with a smile, "I studied under both Lestrade and Gregson for quite some time until I finally decided to work for myself. I know they are friends of yours sir-"
"Is that what they are saying?" chuckled Holmes, "No dear boy, we are not friends in the least. Continue please."
"Well, in that case," said Phillips, looking relieved, "I actually left their services because I did not like how they worked, or their attitude towards those they deemed inferior. I have a friend who managed to pull a few strings and here I am today, working along side the same men who sneered at my suggestions."
I heard the back door open and let out a sigh of relief. There was a pause, a growling sound, and I heard heavy paws running up the stairs. Sherlock burst into the room and began growling at the new detective. Soon, Victoria followed, her hair falling out from the run up, and knelt down by her dog.
"I am terrible sorry," she said, holding her dog by a rope collar, "He is not fond of strangers, he just needs to get used to your scent."
She looked up at the detective for the first time and I thought I saw her eyes widen just a little in surprise. She rose to her feet and smiled warmly at him. Phillips seemed to have forgotten that he had to introduce himself so I did it for him.
"Victoria, this is Detective George Phillips. Holmes brought him on the case. Detective, this is the victim's daughter, Miss Victoria James."
"A pleasure to meet you, Detective," Victoria said with a small curtsey, "I hope that you along with Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson can find my father soon."
"I should like to, Miss James," he said, clearing his throat, "But I think I need to hear the story first."
Holmes and I sat in the armchairs by the fire while the young people sat on the couch. Victoria related her story once more and the detective listened, nodding at the right moments and frowning when he did not understand something. Victoria, being as observant as she was, would explain herself better when the young detective did this. When she had finished, he looked at Holmes with a grim look on his face.
"This is a complicated one," he said, "Have you any leads? Any idea who this 'Professor' is?"
"We know who committed the crime," said Holmes and Phillips raised his eyebrows, "Our only problem is finding him. As I have explained to you earlier, we are confined to the house because of men waiting to shoot our young guest here as soon as she were to open the door."
"Well, who is it?"
"A Professor Moriarty," I said gravely.
"Moriarty…I thought he was dead!" said Phillips astounded, "I thought he died when we thought you had as well."
"He must have survived, just as I did," said Holmes grimly, "And now he is back to his first love: crime."
"Is there any motive?" the detective asked, and turned to Victoria, "What would a man want with your father?"
"Nothing to my knowledge," she said, thinking hard, "He does odd jobs around the city so maybe they want him to try and steal something. He is also an inventor when he is not working. My father was not well liked, but I do not think someone would kidnap him because he believed in letting me have freedom in my own home."
"What invention was he working on?" Phillips asked.
"He was only tinkering with the idea of a machine that could transport people," she said with a shrug, "Nothing catastrophic such as new kinds of weapons."
"How did this machine work?" I asked curiously.
"He did not tell me much, but from the drawings it had four wheels and used petals to make it stop and go. And it ran on an engine that was fueled by gasoline."
We sat in silence for some time, each thinking our own thoughts. Finally, Holmes stood up and began pacing. Victoria scratched Sherlock behind the ears, causing the dog to let out a groan and lay its head on her lap. The dog was fine now that he, just like Victoria had said, had gotten used to Phillips' scent.
"I think," Phillips said slowly, "That we should try and track the intruder. Maybe he could lead us to Moriarty."
"How?" I asked, "He is somewhere out there amongst the millions of people in this city."
"Or," Victoria said with a sly smile, "Maybe we could get one of those shooters who are waiting outside our doorstep."
Then Holmes did a most extraordinary thing, he genuinely smiled at Victoria. Now, in all the years I have known Holmes, I have never seen him do that unless he was alone with me, and even then it was quite a rare occasion to be celebrated.
"An excellent idea," he said and I could tell his wheels were turning, "I think I have just the plan to do that."
"Are you quite sure this will work, Holmes?" I asked as I finished loading my pistol.
"Of course it will!" he exclaimed with excitement, "Now come Watson, we haven't a moment to lose."
Both of us were dressed as street loafers with dirty faces and patched knees. Victoria was to join us too, much to my arguments of her being recognized. Our job was to stand in front of the bushes across the road and block the view of the shooters when Phillips, dressed as a woman much to his displeasure, came out of the house. We would see where the shooters were, grab them, and drag them into the house for questioning.
As we were walking down the stairs, we heard laughter and poked our heads over the banister to see a very filthy Victoria laughing merrily at the detective, who was in a long dress and had a wide-brimmed hat on.
"It is not that funny," he muttered, turning bright red.
"Oh come now," said Victoria through fits of laughter, "It is quite hilarious! To see someone as masculine as yourself in women's clothes is the funniest thing I have ever seen."
I think, if possible, Phillips turned redder.
"I think it is time we put our dear detective out of his misery, wouldn't you say Watson?" said Holmes with a grin and started walking in place, his steps growing louder and began to actually walk. The laugher ceased in an instant as we appeared.
"Are we all assembled? Do we know what we are doing? Excellent, let us go then," said Holmes.
"Now Sherlock," said Victoria, bending down to her sheepdog, "You stay here with Mrs. Hudson."
The dog wined and licked his owner's hand. She patted his head and snuck out the backdoor behind the two of us. We cut through the houses until we came to a street next to our own. Then we began walking, chatting occasionally to one another as we did so until we reached Baker Street and stopped right across from 221B. As we pretended to not be interested in our surroundings as we talked, I saw out of the corner of my eye Phillips open the door. In an instant, there was a rustling in the bushes and we attacked.
By the end of our scuffle, one man lay dead while two others were captured, one being held by Holmes and the other Victoria. I was amazed by the young woman's strength seeing as the man was twice her size.
"Good show Holmes!" said Phillips, racing across the street to aid Victoria, who shook his hand away.
"It's fine Detective, I've got this scoundrel. Come on you!" she said angrily as she forced him across the road and into the house where Mrs. Hudson was waiting with handcuffs.
Author's Note: I hope you like this chapter. I wanted to let you all know that I'm going away until July 6th so there won't be any updates until then. I might be able to update tomorrow but in case I can't, I hope the double update today will make up for it. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love hearing what you like and dislike about the chapter! I promise to update as soon as I get back. While I'm gone, I would love to hear what you think of this so far.
