Author's Note: I'm back! I wish I owned Sherlock Holmes but then I would be Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and that would be weird…
Chapter 5 The Plot Thickens
Once the men were cuffed, we led them up the stairs into the sitting room, where they were roughly shoved onto the ground. Sherlock had rejoined his mistress and was snarling at the men, causing them to back away with fright.
"I think you are better off telling us who you are and why you were waiting to shoot us than not," said Holmes calmly as he lit up his pipe.
With that calm threat and the fact Sherlock chose that time to snap at one man's foot, the larger of the men broke down completely. The other was still surprisingly calm.
"Please govn'r," the one man said, who was the taller and larger of the two, "We didn't mean no harm, we was just doin' what we was told, hones'ly."
"And who told you to shoot an innocent woman?" said Phillips angrily.
"The Professor," the same man said, frightened, "He said we'd get paid double what we was makin' before. But you," the man pointed a dirty finger at Victoria, "He's coming for you. And when the Professor wants something, he finds a way to get it."
"Do you know where he is?" Phillips asked, stepping protectively in front of Victoria.
"No one does," the other man said suddenly. Holmes, who had been staring at the wall with unfocused eyes, looked up instantly and turned to the man. He frowned, got on his knees, and looked at the man carefully.
"Well, well, it seems we have another woman who enjoys dressing like a man," said Holmes, "What brings you here today Irene?"
The person in question smiled sweetly and took off her hat so her auburn hair fell past her shoulders and down her back. It was Irene Adler.
"It's good to see you too Holmes," she said, "I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by."
"You were in the bushes with men who were attempting to kill this young lady," said Holmes, pointing to Victoria, "Are you working for the Professor now?"
"And I thought you knew me better Holmes, you know the only person I work for is myself."
"Indeed I do, but I believe even you would be willing to work for someone if it benefitted yourself. So I will ask you again, are you working for the Professor now?"
"He asked me to keep an eye on the two men, unfortunately you killed the other one. But no, I am not working officially for the Professor. He prefers men for his line of work. I am just the babysitter for once."
"Some might call that an accessory for attempted murder," said Phillips icily.
Irene turned her attention to Phillips, looked him up and down, and smiled.
"Scotland Yard's finest, and he is cute too. Where did you find him Holmes?" she asked, "I like him better than Lestrade. It was painful having to open the paper and see that man's face on the front cover."
"Tell us what you know Irene," said Holmes as though he had not heard her previous statements, "You really have no choice, unless you would prefer to spend the rest of your years in a cell? I'm sure Detective Phillips could arrange that."
"I told you, I do not work for Professor Moriarty. I do not know anything about him or his plans."
"How about this man?" Victoria asked, holding up a sketch that was in her notepad. She had spent time racking her brains to get enough details to draw a picture of him. Her face was paler than usual, the only sign that she was frightened by the man's earlier words.
"We know him," the larger man said with a series of nods. He was probably hoping to also get out of a long prison sentence. "He helps the Professor with jobs. He lives in a flat not far from here."
We got Irene and the man to tell us everything they knew, after many round-about questions that is. Once that was done, Phillips tied them to chairs. We padlocked the door and went into Holmes' study for time to think. Finally, Phillips said he must return home and left. Victoria showed the young detective the way out with Sherlock at her side. While they were gone, Holmes had a thoughtful expression on his face.
"This case is quite different, is it not Watson?" he asked as he puffed his pipe.
"It is Holmes," I replied, "But I do believe it has something to do with our extraordinary victim. Did you see how she held that man's arms behind him? Although, I believe she was holding Irene but nevertheless Irene is not easy to hold back."
"Yes, she is quite a different woman," mused Holmes, "Her mother, you said, died in childbirth?"
"Yes," I said sadly, "It is a horrible thing for a girl to grow up without a mother's love or advice. Yet she seems to have done well, even if she is a little different."
"A little?" Holmes asked with a smirk, "She is bold and has never learned the art of holding her tongue. I can only hope it will not lead her into danger. However, Detective Phillips does not seem to mind. Let us hope his new-found love for our victim does not cloud his decision making."
Holmes scanned through the notes once more and rubbed his long fingers over his forehead.
"These notes are quite detailed, come look Watson," said Holmes and I looked them over. Everything from the color of her father's shirts to the drawings of their home was precise.
"She obviously wants to help you, Holmes," I said, handing the notes back to my friend, who wore a troubled expression, "You should be rejoicing! I do not know how many times I have heard you complain of your clients not giving you all the appropriate information. And yet, this girl gives you everything and more and you look so solemn."
"It frustrates me that, with all this data, I cannot solve this mystery!" said Holmes.
I suggested to him that he retire for the evening and let his mind rest. After all, the prisoners were not going anywhere. He agreed, if not reluctantly, and we all went off to bed. As Victoria was heading to her room, I stopped her.
"Victoria, may I ask you something?" She nodded for me to continue so I said, "When we found you, you were wearing men's clothing and told us you always had. Then we find Irene dressed as a man as well. I was wondering why women detest wearing what is in style?"
"Because what is in style is quite painful," said Victoria with a smile, "Being a man, you have never had to wear a corset so imagine someone is squeezing your waist so tight that you cannot breathe. Dresses provide us with restricted movements and I cannot tell you how many times I have almost tripped on the hem of these dresses. Miss Adler was dressed for disguise while I was dressed for comfort. Think of me what you will Dr. Watson, but I did not wish to stop living my life because I grew up and had to become a lady with all the restrictions it entailed."
"But many women live happy lives under the "restrictions"," I said, "They don't see them as overbearing rules."
"Unfortunately doctor, I am not like many women," she said sadly, "I enjoy putting my brain to the test instead of letting others tell me what to do. It's late Dr. Watson and I am rather tired. Sleep well."
We said good night and went our separate ways. As I lay there, I could not will myself to fall asleep. Something was bothering me about our interrogation of Irene and the other man. It seemed so easy to get the information out of them, even though we used round about methods to do so. A nagging voice in the back of my mind told me to be careful but I just shook my head and cleared these thoughts. I was just tired, that was all. Once I was well rested, I would contemplate this further in the morning. I never expected what would happen the next morning when I awoke.
I was awake early in the morning, around four o' clock. I spent the time until breakfast reading in my room for fear of waking the house. As I read, I heard soft footsteps going down the stairs and the door close. I assumed Victoria had decided to take Sherlock out for an early walk.
Stretching, I went into the study to find two envelops on the table, one addressed to me and the other to Holmes. It was Victoria's handwriting. Frowning, I opened the letter and this is what I read.
Dear Dr. Watson,
I do not know how I can ever repay you for the services you and your medical bag have done for us. Because of you, my dearest friend is alive today to run and play. I thank you most greatly for that.
By the time you receive this letter, I will probably be long gone. After what that man said, I realize I am putting you all in mortal danger. I cannot let that happen, not after everything you all have done for Sherlock and I. I think with the information we gathered I can find my father by myself.
I know Mr. Holmes will be angry with me for leaving, but I feel I must. Please make sure he gets his own letter as well as Mrs. Hudson. Hers is in the kitchen. Once again, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the kindness you have shown me.
Your grateful client,
Victoria Elizabeth James
P.S- I am sorry to inform you that your prisoners escaped during the night. I found the door ajar while I was packing my belongings.
"Oh dear," I said and walked across the hall to the sitting room. There was no one inside and the handcuffs were placed neatly on the chairs. I then rushed as fast as I could up the stairs and opened the girl's room. The bed was carefully made and everything was freshly cleaned.
I heard footsteps behind me and saw Mrs. Hudson huffing up the stairs and she stood beside me, looking at the clean scene. It was like no one had lived here at all.
"She really has gone!" said Mrs. Hudson, the letter in her hand shaking, "Oh the poor girl, she should not have done that."
I led Mrs. Hudson to the bed so she could sit, for she looked like she would faint in an instant. I took the letter from her and read it through. It said almost the same thing as mine, thanking her for her help and kindness. There were also wonderful compliments on her cooking, her cheerfulness, and love of the dog. No mention was made of the prisoners' escape.
"Has Mr. Holmes found out yet?" Mrs. Hudson asked, wiping her eyes.
"No, but there is a letter for him as well," I said with a heavy sigh, "He will find out soon enough. I would prefer he find out while I take a walk. I need to think about everything."
So I took my jacket, my hat, and went out the back for a nice walk through the streets of London. It was still early in the morning so the streets were not as crowded as usual. I went to a park and sat on a bench while people passed me with friends or dogs. Every time I saw a dog, I thought of Victoria and Sherlock. Where were they now? How was she to find her father when Holmes was unable to? Holmes had been right; her boldness and belief in her own deductive reasoning skills had made her feel confident enough to leave the safety of the Baker Street apartments.
And what about Irene and the man? How had they managed to escape? I would not have been surprised if Irene managed to pick the lock with a hair pin or something. It was actually quite comical: the only woman Holmes was crazy about was a world-class criminal.
Shaking my head, I rose to my feet and made my way back. As I walked through the door, I braced myself for Holmes' ranting and raving as I walked up to our sitting room. I opened the door to find Holmes sitting with his back to me by the fire, the letter in his hands. He did not move when I entered or when I sat down beside him. His eyes were glazed as he stared at the flames.
"Holmes?" I asked quietly but even still he started when I spoke.
"I am terribly sorry Watson," my friend said, shaking his head slightly, "How long have you been there trying to get my attention?"
"I have only just arrived," I said, "I see you have been reading the note Victoria wrote for us?"
"Yes indeed I have," said Holmes with a sigh, "It was very foolish for her to leave. Now Moriarty will not have to lift a finger to find her, he has eyes and ears all over this city. Her overconfidence in herself has led to this. I deduce she will be found within the day. As for our prisoners, somehow I knew they would not be here in the morning. I should have stayed up and stood guard but there is nothing we can do about that now."
"We must find her, Holmes!" I cried, "Before that fiend does! Have you contacted Phillips about the matter?"
"No, and I regret to say I am not looking forward to that event. But, there is no time like the present. Come Watson, let us be the bearers of this bad news."
Within ten minutes, we were sitting in front of Phillips with the letters. Phillips was obviously surprised by Victoria's sudden departure and was worried.
"We must find her as soon as possible," he said as he handed the letter back to Holmes, "We should go to the address those criminals gave us and find the intruder. Maybe he could lead us to Moriarty."
"It cannot hurt our chances," said Holmes, pulling out the pistol he had brought the day before, "It would be best if we left now, can you do that Phillips?"
"Yes Mr. Holmes," said the young man, taking his jacket and his gun and following us out onto the London streets.
"Holmes," I said quietly as we walked, "Are you really going to trust anything Irene told us?"
"It is our only lead Watson," my friend replied heavily, "And we did come prepared for a fight."
"But this is madness!" I continued and I felt the same warning sensation I did last night, "We know nothing about this place, we are going to be entering without any prior knowledge of this man's daily habits. For all we know, he could be there when we arrive! All I am saying Holmes is that this is not like you. You always carefully plan things about before acting. Please do not let your affections for Irene be your downfall."
Holmes stopped, turned to me, and put his hand on my shoulder in a brotherly fashion.
"Watson, old chap, trust me when I say that I know exactly what it is I am doing. I thank you for your kind thoughts though, they mean a lot to me." I nodded and felt the cool metal of my pistol in my pocket. I really hoped I could trust my friend this time.
We walked for a good half an hour before we reached the street where the wardrobe man was supposed to be residing. We loaded our weapons and walked down the street, looking for the appropriate number. When we located it, Holmes stood in front of the lock and then stepped away, the door slightly open.
"How did you-?"
"No time for questions, I'm afraid," said Holmes to the detective and I noticed his tone was agitated.
We followed my companion into the residence and saw it was very dark and dilapidated. As we walked, I heard water dripping from the pipes and the scurrying of mice. I also heard scuffling upstairs, like someone was struggling.
Holmes evidently heard it too with his trained ears. He held one long finger to his lips and pointed to the steps.
"Watson, come with me. Phillips, stay down here and keep a sharp eye."
I followed Homes up the stairs as quietly as those old stairs would allow. We reached a long hallway and found a light coming from one of the doors. Holmes crept like a ghost to the door and peered in, I right behind him.
Victoria was tied to a chair while her dog lay bound on the floor. Both were gagged but Victoria was struggling to break free from her binds. I had to smile, that did not surprise me in the least. She was looking around the room with those calculating eyes, trying desperately to find something to aid her. There appeared to be no one else in the room.
Holmes entered the room and Victoria's eyes widened. She seemed to relax knowing there was someone to help her. My companion untied the girl and pulled the gag out. She then got up shakily and undid her dog's binds.
"Where is the wardrobe man?" Holmes asked in a quiet whisper.
"He's not here," said Victoria in the same voice, "He always leaves at noon for a drink and comes back barely able to hold himself up. Thank heavens you are here! We must leave before the Professor and that woman return."
"He's here?" I asked in quiet shock.
"Yes, I am."
We spun around and saw the infamous undead Professor Moriarty standing in the doorway next to Irene Adler. He snapped his fingers and the wardrobe man, who was fully sober, dragged an unconscious Phillips into the room with us. Victoria let out a gasp and went to run to the detective, but Holmes held her back, staring angrily at his archenemy.
Author's Note: Gasp, what will happen next? I know but you'll have to wait for my next update to see…hehe I'm so evil! So, what did you think? Does this make up for me being gone for so long? I love to hear from my readers so tell me what you think. Was it awesome, pretty good, mediocre, or just plain horrible? I was told that Victoria was a bit too perfect so I've been trying to bring out the bad characteristics in her, such as her over-boldness and cockiness. Tell me if you like it or not. Remember, the review button isn't as scary as it looks! :)
