December 27: A Very Useful Present

From Stutley Constable - A lead pipe.

It was an unseasonally mild night for late December. Fog swirled and hung low to the ground around streets, buildings, and lamp posts like small puppies begging for scraps at the dining room table. Throughout the day, warm air hitting the normally cold surfaces of London made everything wet as if the city was enduring a light drizzle.

Two days after Christmas, Watson and Holmes were walking back from a leisurely supper at newly opened French restaurant. A fine four course meal of onion soup, spring trout, beef tips and new potatoes, and as Holmes put it "one of the most delectable tarts I have ever eaten" left both men in high spirits. Over the years, one of their favorite Christmas traditions had become a carefully planned series of outings: meals out at their preferred eateries, symphony concerts, and nights at the opera – all condensed into the week between Christmas and the New Year.

Holmes was idly expounding on the differences between early and late classic Greek architecture as they turned onto Marylebone, on the home stretch back to their flat on Baker Street. Limited visibility in the low fog made it difficult to see into dark alleys and doorways, so the two friends were caught by surprise when a large man in a black shapeless coat stepped out of a sheltered doorway and announced his presence. He held a long knife, almost a machete in his right hand, and a lead pipe in his left.

"Evenin' gents. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. What we have here is an unexpected opportunity for a financial transaction. If you would be so good as to toss your wallets right over here, I would be most obliged."

The two friends, long used to physical altercations, instinctively separated, each moving to the far side of the man's vision – making it difficult for their attacker to keep track of both of his potential victims. The man turned his attention to Watson, the closer of the two, and moved in threateningly. "Now see here. I don't want no trouble from you. You just be handing over that wallet – or else…" The man suddenly lunched towards Watson, raising the pipe, preparing to strike Watson over the head.

A significant mistake indeed…

Holmes and Watson were well used to using their walking sticks as both defensive and offensive weapons. Watson swung his stick upwards, striking the man's wrist on the downswing. Even as his assailant yelped in pain and surprise, Watson ducked down and came in close, inside his adversary's ability to swing either weapon effectively. Long honed skills playing rugby knocked his attacker off his feet. For all his size, the man was athletic and quick; he scrambled to his feet without letting go of either weapon, even though the arm holding the pipe was now obviously injured.

The man roared in raging fury and made to charge Watson full on. That was as far as he got. A sharp crack sounded, and the man staggered back, turning in surprised amazement to Holmes, who held his walking stick out at full length. The machete fell to the ground, followed shortly by the pipe. The man uttered an oath normally heard only on the docks of London, clutched at his right shoulder - then turned and ran off.

"Are you injured, Watson?" Holmes asked anxiously.

"Not at all, just annoyed." Watson shrugged his coat back into place, gave his back a stretch and said, "I really need to practice that move more often if I'm going to pull off a stunt like that without notice. It works best when you're properly warmed up and limber – and twenty years younger."

"You know, that's the third time I've seen you do that," said Holmes. "Honestly, it never gets old. It matches efficiency with a bit of flair and dash. Rather entertaining actually."

Watson gave a short bark of laughter and bent to pick up the lead pipe. "I am so happy to provide the evening's amusement! This is a useful cudgel I suppose. Pity the fool that tries to use it on two victims at once, especially two experienced campaigners like ourselves, who are already well armed."

"My apologies, Watson. I am usually better than this. I should have been paying more attention to our surroundings. Low ground fog is not an excuse. It's an ideal environment for an ambush, and we walked right into one."

"Not a bit of it, old man. We're both to blame. Of course, the average man would say there was nothing for it, and this could have happened to anyone. The hidden assailant will always have the advantage of surprise on a night like this. Better for us by far that we are used to thinking on our feet and are ready for most any eventuality."

"Well, this new toy played its part well," said Holmes. He held up his walking stick and eyed it critically with a smile of warm appreciation. I really MUST thank Mycroft. It is a most fitting defensive weapon, and an admirable Christmas present. Sch a handsome walking stick, containing both a sword, and a single shot derringer on the tip. Mycroft assured me it's the absolute latest and best technology, and that it's being distributed to agents all over Europe, and even a few in America. Quite expensive I believe, but I can now tell him that it's worth every shilling he paid for it! I've had it for three days, and its already seen service."

"That jack ass is going to need a doctor – and some surgery, Holmes. I suppose we should drop by the Yard and tell the inspector on duty to have the hospitals watch out for our hapless friend. I would prefer it if he loses his ability to repeat that trick on some other less capable pedestrian, at least for a few years. Her Majesty's prisons always have room for one more."

Holmes bent down and picked up the machete. "What do you make of this?

Watson looked the long knife over and said, "A common machete of the type used on the docks to cut ropes, and to hack up large banana bundles. I believe this style is called a 'banana blade' If I'm not mistaken. You may as well take it. We'll keep it as a memento, if the Yard doesn't need it for evidence.

"Hmmm… a turkey carver for Mrs. Hudson, Watson?"

The comical look that Holmes threw Watson's way made Watson howl with laughter, with Holmes eventually joining in. "We are quite the pair, old friend!"

"Nobody should come near us for the rest of the evening, Holmes. We're armed to the teeth. A two man angry mob!"

The jokes and laughter continued as the two friends started to make their way home after the short but eventful interruption.

(The end.)

A/N: I thought the idea of an attacker, supposedly well-armed but choosing the wrong victims, would make the ideal response. It's a historically appropriate response. Many gentlemen of breeding carried walking sticks not only as a fashion statement, but also as a first line of defense. At least some formal training for the use of a cane as a weapon was available, so the average attacker could not be assured that the man he chose to rob would go down quietly. Two men with sticks was a poor choice, even for someone with multiple weapons.

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