Commonplace Crime (5 of 7)
Dec. 9th, 2011 09:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
capt_facepalmAuthor: ![[info]](https://capt-facepalm.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=1)
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: 1195 (6914 total)
Author's Notes: MiniWriMo
.oOOo.
Leaving the comfort of his home behind, Lestrade led their little group back out into the night. The coachman, Sid, had taken shelter inside of his carriage. Holmes made a dash and opened the door for Lestrade who kept a grip on Lilly’s arm. Watson, ever the straggler, brought up the rear. Holmes assisted the inspector and the girl, then turned to his friend.
‘Where to next?’ Watson inquired.
‘It’s Scotland Yard for me and the inspector. You are going home.’
‘But the case…’
‘Your tenacity is endearing, Doctor, but you become petulant when you’re tired. Even now, you can hardly stand without swaying. It’s back to Baker Street with you!’
‘I am not petulant,’ Watson pouted. ‘I’m stamping my feet because they are frozen!’
‘You also become argumentative when you are cold.’
‘I do no such thing!’
Holmes grinned at Lestrade while the doctor glowered.
Ramrod straight, Watson marched through the rain, up the steps to 221 Baker Street, and shut the door behind him with more force than was absolutely necessary.
‘Oh, I daresay he did not like that!’ Lestrade laughed. ‘Although, I thought he was doing rather well.’
‘Yes he was. What he lacks in observational acuity, he more than makes up with instinct. Nevertheless, I won’t risk his interfering with what must come next.’
‘Why ever not? A mild-mannered fellow like him wouldn’t say boo to a goose!’
‘It would be a great mistake to interpret Watson’s good manners as timidity. I have sorely tried his good nature tonight, and I have my own reasons for removing him from this case.’
Lestrade was at a loss. Holmes cast a glance at Lilly whose exhaustion combined with the rum had succumbed to a light sleep beside him. He leaned forward and lowered his voice so only the inspector could hear.
‘Miss Sheppard has to be detained. Once tonight’s courage has worn off, she will flee and we’ll never find her again.’ Holmes leaned forward and confided. ‘You need to remand her to the lock-up and I thought Dr Watson might object. That is why I sent him home. He can be bloody-minded, you know.’
‘Over a gutter tart?’
‘Society makes these distinctions; Dr Watson does not.’
‘He won’t last long in London, then.’
Holmes sat back in his seat but did not reply.
capt_facepalmRating: 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: 1195 (6914 total)
Author's Notes: MiniWriMo
‘Easy Inspector. Don’t rush her; she’s had quite a fright.’ Watson warned.
The girl, being a little waif of a thing, was feeling the warmth of the rum. It brought a flush to her otherwise pale and sickly countenance and she nodded her gratitude to the doctor when he again held the cup for her.
‘Lilly, you’re safe here. I know you have had a fright, but could you please tell Mr Lestrade and Mr Holmes what you saw this evening? Take whatever time you need.’
With Watson’s hand on her arm in support, and aided by the rum which loosened her tongue, the girl’s story finally came out. Her account came first in sporadic words, and then in a flood. She had indeed witnessed the brutal assault.
‘I know them blokes what done it. Del Tarber, that old proz, she led this toff into the mews. Then Finchy, that’s Danny Finch, coshed him good. Finchy’s mate, some narf they call Howie, gave Del some money an’ told her to bugger off.
‘No big deal, right? Toff’s own fault. He shoulda knowed better. Whitechapel ain’t safe, unless you knows your way around. Deserved to lose his wallet,’ she said, angrily, then gulped once, and once again.
‘But he dint deserve what happened after. Finchy’d already gone through his pockets and was after the toff’s ring with his knife, but the geezer is waking up and makes a fuss, so Howie gives him another bash. But his aim is bad, and he needs to bash him a few more times cuz he’s squealing like a stuck pig. Now the toff aint moving no more, see? They drag him over and dump him on the rubbish heap. Arnie, what works in the pub, opens the door for a piss, finds the geezer and calls for the peelers, er, police.’
‘You are not telling us the whole story, Lilly,’ Holmes accused. ‘When did you touch the body?’
‘Who says I…’ The girl went dangerously pale.
‘The tear in your sleeve and the bruise on your wrist. Did the victim reach for you when you tried to rob him? Is that what frightened you so?’
Lilly shook her head in disbelief.
‘The geezer was dead! Had to be… with his head all smashed-like… and the blood! But he starts to twitch, see? And coughs a bit, so I think… maybe he’s not a goner after all… maybe the boys just hurt him bad. So I go to him, but what I sees… there’s no way… no way… and he grabs me! He won’t let go! And he sounds like… like… And then I hear the door to The Stag and I knew I had to get away! Arnie, what works in the pub, he’s drunk so he doesn’t see me. Ha! He sobered up right quick though when he saw what happened to the toff.’
‘Are you expecting us to believe that? What’s to say you weren’t in on from the start?’
‘I believe her, Lestrade. She is not experienced enough to be in on such a daring plot. She is barely bold enough to approach a corpse to glean whatever the others may have missed! No, Inspector, your course now is to track down this Finchy and his friend, Howie.’
‘What say you, Doctor? You found her. Does her story fit?’ Lestrade enquired.
‘It does have ring of truth about it, and it seems to satisfy Holmes’ evidence. Lilly was certainly not faking her shock paralysis. Without it, she would have had plenty of time to get away. I’m inclined to believe her.’
‘Indeed! A would-be thief at worst; certainly not a murderess!’ Holmes concluded.
‘Oh ho!’ Lestrade brightened ‘I think I know where to find Danny Finch. With a little luck I can make an arrest before the morning editions hit the street! Gregson will be fit to be tied!’
Watson caught Holmes’ wolfish grin, but did not respond in kind.
The girl, being a little waif of a thing, was feeling the warmth of the rum. It brought a flush to her otherwise pale and sickly countenance and she nodded her gratitude to the doctor when he again held the cup for her.
‘Lilly, you’re safe here. I know you have had a fright, but could you please tell Mr Lestrade and Mr Holmes what you saw this evening? Take whatever time you need.’
With Watson’s hand on her arm in support, and aided by the rum which loosened her tongue, the girl’s story finally came out. Her account came first in sporadic words, and then in a flood. She had indeed witnessed the brutal assault.
‘I know them blokes what done it. Del Tarber, that old proz, she led this toff into the mews. Then Finchy, that’s Danny Finch, coshed him good. Finchy’s mate, some narf they call Howie, gave Del some money an’ told her to bugger off.
‘No big deal, right? Toff’s own fault. He shoulda knowed better. Whitechapel ain’t safe, unless you knows your way around. Deserved to lose his wallet,’ she said, angrily, then gulped once, and once again.
‘But he dint deserve what happened after. Finchy’d already gone through his pockets and was after the toff’s ring with his knife, but the geezer is waking up and makes a fuss, so Howie gives him another bash. But his aim is bad, and he needs to bash him a few more times cuz he’s squealing like a stuck pig. Now the toff aint moving no more, see? They drag him over and dump him on the rubbish heap. Arnie, what works in the pub, opens the door for a piss, finds the geezer and calls for the peelers, er, police.’
‘You are not telling us the whole story, Lilly,’ Holmes accused. ‘When did you touch the body?’
‘Who says I…’ The girl went dangerously pale.
‘The tear in your sleeve and the bruise on your wrist. Did the victim reach for you when you tried to rob him? Is that what frightened you so?’
Lilly shook her head in disbelief.
‘The geezer was dead! Had to be… with his head all smashed-like… and the blood! But he starts to twitch, see? And coughs a bit, so I think… maybe he’s not a goner after all… maybe the boys just hurt him bad. So I go to him, but what I sees… there’s no way… no way… and he grabs me! He won’t let go! And he sounds like… like… And then I hear the door to The Stag and I knew I had to get away! Arnie, what works in the pub, he’s drunk so he doesn’t see me. Ha! He sobered up right quick though when he saw what happened to the toff.’
‘Are you expecting us to believe that? What’s to say you weren’t in on from the start?’
‘I believe her, Lestrade. She is not experienced enough to be in on such a daring plot. She is barely bold enough to approach a corpse to glean whatever the others may have missed! No, Inspector, your course now is to track down this Finchy and his friend, Howie.’
‘What say you, Doctor? You found her. Does her story fit?’ Lestrade enquired.
‘It does have ring of truth about it, and it seems to satisfy Holmes’ evidence. Lilly was certainly not faking her shock paralysis. Without it, she would have had plenty of time to get away. I’m inclined to believe her.’
‘Indeed! A would-be thief at worst; certainly not a murderess!’ Holmes concluded.
‘Oh ho!’ Lestrade brightened ‘I think I know where to find Danny Finch. With a little luck I can make an arrest before the morning editions hit the street! Gregson will be fit to be tied!’
Watson caught Holmes’ wolfish grin, but did not respond in kind.
.oOOo.
Leaving the comfort of his home behind, Lestrade led their little group back out into the night. The coachman, Sid, had taken shelter inside of his carriage. Holmes made a dash and opened the door for Lestrade who kept a grip on Lilly’s arm. Watson, ever the straggler, brought up the rear. Holmes assisted the inspector and the girl, then turned to his friend.
‘Where to next?’ Watson inquired.
‘It’s Scotland Yard for me and the inspector. You are going home.’
‘But the case…’
‘Your tenacity is endearing, Doctor, but you become petulant when you’re tired. Even now, you can hardly stand without swaying. It’s back to Baker Street with you!’
‘I am not petulant,’ Watson pouted. ‘I’m stamping my feet because they are frozen!’
‘You also become argumentative when you are cold.’
‘I do no such thing!’
Holmes grinned at Lestrade while the doctor glowered.
.oOOo.
Ramrod straight, Watson marched through the rain, up the steps to 221 Baker Street, and shut the door behind him with more force than was absolutely necessary.
‘Oh, I daresay he did not like that!’ Lestrade laughed. ‘Although, I thought he was doing rather well.’
‘Yes he was. What he lacks in observational acuity, he more than makes up with instinct. Nevertheless, I won’t risk his interfering with what must come next.’
‘Why ever not? A mild-mannered fellow like him wouldn’t say boo to a goose!’
‘It would be a great mistake to interpret Watson’s good manners as timidity. I have sorely tried his good nature tonight, and I have my own reasons for removing him from this case.’
Lestrade was at a loss. Holmes cast a glance at Lilly whose exhaustion combined with the rum had succumbed to a light sleep beside him. He leaned forward and lowered his voice so only the inspector could hear.
‘Miss Sheppard has to be detained. Once tonight’s courage has worn off, she will flee and we’ll never find her again.’ Holmes leaned forward and confided. ‘You need to remand her to the lock-up and I thought Dr Watson might object. That is why I sent him home. He can be bloody-minded, you know.’
‘Over a gutter tart?’
‘Society makes these distinctions; Dr Watson does not.’
‘He won’t last long in London, then.’
Holmes sat back in his seat but did not reply.
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Date: 2011-12-09 03:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-12-09 11:09 pm (UTC)