capt_facepalm

Author: capt_facepalm
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (Gaslight)
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Dr John H. Watson
Summary: Ambulance chasing, Victorian style!
Warnings: adult themes, off camera violence
Word Count: This chapter: 1020 (6914 total)
Author's Notes: MiniWriMo

Chapters:
Beginnings
Whitechapel
Holmes Investigates

.oOOo.
The Professionals

Since revealing her name, the girl remained mute and stared out the little window, rocking herself gently as she shivered amongst the folds of Watson’s overcoat. As for the doctor, he wrapped his shoulders in a lap robe that Sid provided, and watched the girl. Holmes sat opposite, oblivious to being just as cold and wet as the others. His fingers drummed the beat to a tune that only he could hear.

‘Where are we going?’ Watson asked after a while, hoping it was someplace warm and dry.

‘I need to talk to Lestrade.’

‘Inspector Lestrade? I thought you despised him.’

‘No, Doctor. My contempt for him is a thin veneer which I use to my advantage.’

‘So you don’t think he is an insufferable idiot and an incompetent?’

‘No, that is still true, yet I do not despise him for it. What I find most frustrating amongst the professionals is their lack of imagination, and it is a condition that both Gregson and Lestrade subscribe to.’

‘Wouldn’t the constraints of their positions force them to follow specific procedures? They are not as free to pursue lines of inquiry as you are. Their activities must stay strictly within the boundaries of the law.’

‘My dear fellow! It was not lines of professional conduct that prevented Gregson from making use of your medical expertise tonight. It was his contempt for me and my successes. So, I am now going to teach him a lesson in humility.’

‘By going to his rival, Inspector Lestrade,’ Watson concluded.

‘Precisely! While Gregson and Lestrade are the best of what Scotland Yard considers inspectors, their methods differ distinctly. For puzzles and riddles, Gregson is your man. He has the mental acumen and the patience to reason those types of problems. But place him under pressure, and as you have witnessed, he lashes out.

‘Then there’s Lestrade. What he lacks in the brain department, he more than makes up for it with tenacity and foresight. Had this been Lestrade’s case, he would have swallowed his pride, however reluctantly, and let us assist him. He would not have let his constables verge on mutiny and the evidence would have been preserved. No, Watson, in many ways, Lestrade is the better man.’

‘You are never going to tell him so, are you?’

‘Heavens no! What a thought! The man flourishes under pressure, and in that way, he is more like you. I need his best game, and he will only rise to it when he sees me in an adversarial role.’

‘And his rivalry with Gregson…?’

‘…is to be encouraged at every turn! It’s better for all of us, in the long run.’

For someone who claimed to have never read the words of Machiavelli, Watson mused, Sherlock Holmes certainly had a knack for applying his methods.

.oOOo.

For safety’s sake, the carriage travelled slowly through the city streets. The wet cobblestones could be treacherous even when there was no threat of frost. Rain and fog diminished visibility to such an extent that even an experienced coachman like Sid feared losing his way. The carriage’s occupants rode in silence. The girl remained in her strange trance-like state. Holmes checked his pocket watch and found it was after two o’clock. He cleared his mind in anticipation of his upcoming encounter and watched as Watson’s head drooped and nodded, swaying with the coach’s movement.

Eventually, Sid drew the carriage to a stop in a working class neighbourhood where neat rowhouses huddled together for protection against the misfortune of the greater city.

‘Watson, we’re here,’ said Holmes as he nudged the dozing doctor back to reality.

Holmes stepped down and waited for Watson to assist Miss Sheppard from the carriage. All three of them proceeded up the steps to the door of one of the houses. Holmes pounded on the door until light could be seen flickering behind the curtains.

‘Open the door, Lestrade!’ Holmes shouted, and then cautiously added: ‘You can put your gun away.’

The door opened a crack.

‘Sherlock Holmes! What is the meaning…’

‘All in good time, Inspector. Dr Watson and I have brought you a present. May we step in?’

Lestrade eyed the three people on his doorstep.

‘You’ve brought me a prostitute? To my home? Are you deranged?!?’

The doctor stifled his laugh with a coughing fit, and immediately apologised.

‘Let us in, before Watson develops pneumonia. Trust me, this will be worth your while.’

‘It had bloody well better be,’ Lestrade intoned as he acquiesced, opened the door, and stepped aside.

Lamps were turned up to reveal a narrow vestibule leading into a compact sitting room. Sodden coats and hats were left to overwhelm the spindly coat rack as the inspector ushered everyone into his home.

‘This better be good, Holmes. Waking me and my family in the middle of the night...’

‘Oh, I think you will find this of great interest! It’s a chance to snatch Gregson’s current case right out from under his nose.’

Lestrade’s face brightened accompanied by an unpleasant grin. Watson stared as the inspector shifted gears from suspicion to hopeful anticipation. In light of Holmes’ recent revelations, the doctor should not have been so surprised.

‘Don’t mind your wet clothes then. Please, everyone take a seat. Mr Holmes, would you be so kind as to stoke those coals? It will warm the room in no time. Shall I put the kettle on? Doctor, you wouldn’t say no to a cuppa tea, would you?’

‘No, not at all, but a swig of something stronger would be most welcome in the meantime.’

The sitting room had warmed a little by the time the tea was ready. Strong rum was offered and not refused. Dr Watson laced the girl’s tea with the aromatic spirit and urged her to drink. Holmes drew the inspector aside and laid before him the situation of Gregson’s case and the nature of his own evidence. At long last he arrived at the role of the young woman in their presence.

‘This is Lilly Sheppard, and she witnessed the whole thing.’

‘Come on, lass, tell us what you saw.’

.oOOo.
Next Chapter: Eyewitness Account

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