The Eighth Guest
Chapter Threeby TT (a.m.tilmouth.s99 at cranfield.ac.uk)
"Stop, in the name of the law!" The man skidded 'round a corner
just as Lestrade let off a shot with her ioniser. The blue energy rope
bounced against the pavements and disappeared
"Damn, missed him." Holmes walked past her. Lestrade grabbed his
arm and pulled him into a run. "Hurry up, Holmes, we'll never catch him
if he reaches the Underground."
The detective coughed. "Hardly, but I think you'll find our thief
has run out of places to run."
The two tore 'round the bend just as their opponent discovered his
mistake -- a dead end. Lestrade raised her ioniser just as the cornered
man flung something silver at her.
"Look out!" Holmes pushed her to the side, sending the shot wild
as the throwing blade whizzed past Lestrade's shoulder. The long arms of
the law ducked behind some convenient packing crates.
Lestrade rubbed her arm. "No need to push quite so hard."
Holmes peered out over the metal boxes. "You would have perhaps
preferred a new scar?"
Beth shrugged. "Point taken. What's he up to?"
Holmes ducked as another blade whizzed past his deerstalker.
"Our friend is now hiding behind the industrial bins at the end of the
alley...and from the look of it has stocked up on those blades."
"Smilers." Lestrade corrected automatically. "They're called
Smilers because they're used to cut throats from ear to ear."
Holmes raised an eyebrow. "I won't ask who thought up a name
like that." Somewhere in his Inverness something buzzed. Holmes sighed
and brought out a palm phone. "Holmes here."
The phone buzzed for a minute before a familiar voice came through.
"Holmes, it's Watson. Have you caught the cat burglar yet?"
Holmes slid further down as another Smiler flew past the top of
his head. "Not yet, no. There are some minor...difficulties." Lestrade
glared at him and raised both her eyebrows. "In fact, my dear Watson,
we would be extremely grateful if you could...."
Lestrade grabbed the phone. "Watson, this is Lestrade. The guy's
got a load of Smilers and has us pinned down in Pickpocket Alley. Get
over here a.s.a.p. NOW and that's an order." She clicked off the phone
and handed it back to Holmes.
"Women," muttered Holmes as he slid the phone away.
"Dead Victorian detectives," said Lestrade, grinning at Holmes's
sulky expression. "So, looks like we're going to be stuck here for a
little while."
Holmes peered round the crate. "Unfortunately." He ducked as a
blade nearly took his nose off. "It doesn't look like our quarry is
going anywhere soon, Lestrade; otherwise he wouldn't be being so
careful with his weaponry."
Lestrade leaned back against the crate with her gun resting on
her lap. "Did you get the invitation this morning?"
Holmes nodded with a carefully blanked expression.
"Are you going?"
"I suppose I must!"
Lestrade gave a hollow laugh. "Aren't you the slightest bit
excited for them?"
"My dear Lestrade, if Mr Ling wishes to marry Miss Moriarty the
best of luck to them both, but please don't expect me to get excited
about such a thing. Such pursuits do not interest me in the slightest."
Lestrade stared at him, shocked, for a few seconds. "I wonder if
they actually bothered to restart your heart sometimes, Holmes. You
obviously seem to have no use for it."
"It keeps the blood going, Lestrade."
"Look, cheer up or don't go tonight, but don't spoil the evening
for everyone else, especially Tessa and Peter."
Holmes sighed. "Just because I do not agree with the practise of
marriage...does not mean I won't come and smile, laugh and be my usual
charming self. I survived two of Watson's weddings, I'll survive this
one. I may even get to practise my throwing arm."
"There's a good detective. You can practise smiling when we get
hold of this guy."
She peeked over the top of the crates. "He looks like he's holing
up. Where in the name of Zed is...."
There was the sound of metal, followed by a muffled cry. Holmes
and Lestrade stood up slowly to see Watson enveloping their quarry in a
bearhug.
"Hello; I assume our friend here is under arrest. Shall I do the
honours?"
Holmes laughed. "By all means, Watson, be my guest."
Lestrade shook her head. "For heaven's sake, just arrest him, one
of you!" She turned and stormed off to get the car.
"Men."
"Hello, Night Light Restaurant!"
"Good morning to you, my dear; is it arranged?"
"Y...yes...the back door will be open this evening."
"You sound frightened...Good. If there are any slip-ups...."
"There won't be. And the laser discs?"
"If all goes as arranged they will be in your hands tonight. But
if you call the police...let's just say your employers will get an
unpleasant shock tomorrow...ha ha. Don't worry; soon this unpleasant
incident will all be but a distant memory."
"And the girl?"
"You have my word she will not be harmed! Don't worry so. You
are doing nothing wrong, just letting me resume an old acquaintance.
Till tonight, my dear. Goodbye."
On to Part 4!
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