The Case of the Missing Irregular
by Stacey (SST205 at aol.com)
After they took Deidre and Wiggins to their respective homes,
Holmes had Watson drop him off a block or two from Baker Street.
"Why do you want to be let off here?" the compudroid asked
as he landed the hovercoach.
"I fear I cannot tell you now," Holmes said as he got out of
the car. Closing the door, he started off down the street. "I
shall see you in about an hour, my friend."
Watson watched his human friend head down the street. My,
but this whole ordeal has been taxing on him -- thankfully, it will
be over soon.
Holmes looked straight ahead of him, walking briskly and
barely nodding to those who caught his eye.
Lord, please let this all work out, he prayed in his
head. It just has to work out--for Tennyson's sake.
Once again he found himself at the gaping entrance to the Old
London Underground. Drawing a deep breath and squaring his
shoulders, he descended into its depths.
A little over an hour later, Watson was preparing supper. He
looked up when he heard the creak of the opening door. "Holmes,
"Yes, Watson, I am," Holmes said abruptly, immediately
heading for the computer.
Watson looked at the pot of stew on the stove. "Sherlock,
supper will be ready in a moment."
"It shall have to keep, my friend," his roommate answered,
tapping his foot and folding his arms across his chest as he waited
for the computer to warm up. "Bloody technology -- we made it just
fine without it in my day -- hurry up already!"
"Some of the lines may yet be frozen from the latest
snowfall," Watson, said, coming out of the kitchen and into the
sitting room. "What is it you're doing, Holmes?"
The detective glanced over his shoulder at him. "I must
contact Lestrade, Watson," he explained, "--and then Wiggins and
Deidre. I must tell them what I want them to do tomorrow."
Watson's synthetic eyes widened. "I see."
He immediately went to turn down the stew.
The computer finally reached its full power. Holmes walked
up to the control panel and got linked to New Scotland Yard.
"Person with whom you wish to make contact, please?" came a
canned female voice.
"Inspector Beth Lestrade," Holmes said, folding his arms
Within seconds, the Inspector's face appeared on the screen.
"What is it, Holmes?"
"Tennyson's kidnappers have given their instructions to Mrs.
Fayre," Holmes told her. "I want you to be at the ransom drop
Lestrade frowned. "Sure, Holmes, but--"
"Of course, you will not be in sight of whoever comes to meet
Mrs. Fayre. I want you to be quite close by, however, in order to
make the arrest when we get Tennyson back."
Lestrade looked downward. "Holmes--"
"I want you to be there to make an arrest, Lestrade.
Is that clear?" the detective interrupted. He wasn't at all in the
mood to hear what he thought Lestrade was going to say--What if
we don't get Tennyson back?
She looked up at him again. "When and where is the drop
gonna be made?"
"One o'clock. It will be at the warehouse on Kirtling
Street -- on the Cringle side." Holmes explained. "I want you to
be with Deidre and Wiggins -- please pick them up on your way."
Lestrade looked about to say something, then must have
changed her mind, as Holmes saw her open her mouth, then close it
again. "Sure thing, Holmes."
She tilted her head then, curiously. "Where will you
Holmes smirked. "I shall be there in my own capacity. I
shall see you tomorrow, Lestrade."
The inspector nodded, and the screen went blank.
On to Part 17!
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