Chapter II: Women

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Taken from "A Scandal in Bohemia" by Mr. Ithel Williams. Edited by Dr. John Watson. Published in 1886 by The Strand.

[Sherlock Holmes] was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer- excellent for drawing the veil from men's motives and actions. But for the trained observer to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his.

Taken from "The Adventure of the Second Stain" by Dr. John Watson. Edited by Mr. Ithel Williams. Published in 1895 by The Strand.

"And yet the motives of women are so inscrutable," Mr. Holmes said.

Mr. King smiled brightly. "This is why I am married and you are not."

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The four gentlemen took a hansom cab to the morgue. Jareth sang to himself. "Look up here, I'm in heaven. I've got scars that can't be seen."

"Have a new composition, Mr. King?" Lestrade asked.

"Huh? No. I… it is not mine… but I am not sure whose it is," Jareth said as he rubbed his forehead, "It is playing through my head, but I cannot place it."

Holmes asked, "Who's on mortuary duty?"

"You know who," Lestrade said.

Sherlock sighed. "Always him."

"I have no idea why you cannot seem to get along with him. One would think the two of you would see eye to eye," Jareth said with a smug smirk.

"He's a moron."

"So is everyone else. He's less of a moron than everyone else as I recall you once saying," Jareth said.

"I was intoxicated," Sherlock said.

"Not that intoxicated," Watson added.

Mercifully, they arrived at the morgue. After descending to the basement where the bodies were kept, they found a body covered with a sheet… and chained down.

"Please tell me which idiot did this!" Jareth snarled.

"It's for everyone's safety," Anderson informed them.

Watson pulled back the sheet to reveal the face of Emelia Ricoletti. "This woman is dead. Half her head is missing! She's not a threat to anyone!"

"Tell that to her husband," Anderson said, "He's under a sheet over there."

"Whatever happened in Limehouse last night, I think we can safely assume it wasn't the work of a dead woman," Jareth said.

"Stranger things have happened," Anderson said.

Holmes sighed. "Such as?"

Anderson nodded towards Jareth. The Goblin smirked. "I am hardly stranger than the impossible."

Mr. Holmes rolled his eyes. "This is clearly a man's work. Where is he?"

The man in charge of the morgue entered. He glared. "Holmes."

"Hooper." Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

The newcomer snapped at Anderson, "You – back to work."

Anderson scuttled away. Hooper walked to the opposite side of the table where Holmes stood. Jareth moved a few paces back to enjoy the show.

Hooper raised an eyebrow at the former Goblin King. "So, come to astonish us with your magic tricks, I suppose."

"Now my charms are all o'erthrown, And what strength I have's mine own." Jareth shook his head. "No. Wrong person. Holmes, please take over this part. I feel a splitting headache coming on."

Sherlock sighed again. "Is there anything to which you would like to draw my attention?"

"Nothing at all, Mr. Holmes. You may leave any time you like."

Lestrade said, "Doctor Hooper, I asked Mr. Holmes to come here. Co-operate. That's an order."

Hooper took a deep breath before continuing. "There are two 'features of interest,' as you are always saying, Mr. King, in Doctor Watson's stories."

"I never say that," Jareth said as he rubbed his forehead.

"You do, actually, quite a lot," Watson said.

Hooper continued, "First of all, this is definitely Emelia Ricoletti. She has been categorically identified. Beyond a doubt it is her."

"Then who was that in Limehouse last night?" Watson asked.

"That was also Emelia Ricoletti," Hooper said.

"It can't have been. She was dead. She was here," Watson said.

"She was positively identified by her own husband seconds before he died. He had no reason to lie. He could hardly be mistaken," Dr. Hooper said.

"The cabbie knew her too. There's no question it's her," Lestrade added.

Dr. Watson turned to Jareth, "But she can't have been in two places at the same time, can she?"

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose. Something is off about this whole thing. "No, Watson. One place is strictly the limit for the recently deceased. And before you ask, magic cannot bring the dead back to life.

Watson snapped his fingers and pointed to Sherlock. "Holmes, could it have been twins?"

"No," Sherlock said flatly.

"Why not?" Watson said.

"Because it's never twins," Holmes said.

"Emelia was not a twin, nor did she have any sisters. She had one older brother who died four years ago," Lestrade said.

"Maybe it was a secret twin," Watson said.

Jareth looked up. "No. Do you think Mrs. Ricoletti has been planning this since the moment of conception? How breathtakingly prescient of her! It is never twins, Watson… most of the time. In Shakespeare it's always twins. Sometimes in fairy tales too. As we are in neither, we can safely assume it is not twins."

"Can we get off of this idiotic topic and to the point?" Sherlock said, "Why were you so frightened, Lestrade? Nothing so far has justified your assault on my decanter, and why have you allowed a dead woman to be placed under arrest?"

"Ah. That would be the other feature of interest," Hooper said. She lifted the right hand of Emelia Ricoletti.

"A smear of blood on her finger. That could have happened any number of ways," Watson said.

"Indeed," Hooper coincided, "There's one other thing. It wasn't there earlier."

Lestrade pointed to a nearby wall. "And neither was that."

On the wall written in blood was the word "You". Jareth stumbled backwards, mumbling to himself. "Gun in the mouth; a bullet through the brain; back of the head blown clean off. How could he survive?"

"'She,'" Sherlock said.

"I'm sorry?" Jareth said in a daze.

"Not 'he,' 'she'," Watson said.

"Yes, yes, of course." Jareth shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Well, thank you all for a fascinating case. I'll send you a telegram when I've solved it. I have a wife to appease as does Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes. I am sure your wives are displeased with you as well after being gone so long."

Holmes and Hooper glared at each other. Sherlock leaned over and whispered to Hooper, "Dinner at 8?"

"More like nine, dear," Hooper said.

The back of their hands brushed against each other as Mr. Holmes left Dr. Hooper to the corpses.

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"I did warn you Mrs. Holmes would be upset with you that you did not visit after finishing the case," Jareth said as they rode back to Baker Street in the hansom cab.

"Molly is generally more reasonable about such things," Sherlock said.

"Not when you haven't written to her in that time. At least I wrote to Sarah," Jareth said.

"And sent telegrams," Watson added, "But the case, King. Surely you must have some theory."

"Not yet. These are deep waters, Watson. Deep waters. And I shall have to go deeper still." As he looked out the window, Jareth sang softly to himself, "I've got drama, can't be stolen. Everybody knows me now."

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A/N: I am aware that "Lazarus" would have been released after the events off His Last Trick, but I found it appropriate. (We'll just say that Bowie sent Jareth an early version of the track as a Christmas present.)

I also wanted a way to give a nod to the man who created Jareth.