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18 - To Have My Cake

It was some time approaching half past ten o’clock the next day when I spied my colleague stepping from a cab onto the curb near where I sat sipping a delightfully hot and aromatic cup of coffee. I noticed as he looked around for me, I raised my hand to signal him, and saw as he caught sight of my rather distinctive face that sat under the wide brimmed hat that I had taken to wearing frequently.

“I have already taken the liberty of ordering you a tea Doctor.” I grinned. “Darjeeling, one sugar. Am I correct?”

“Though you’ve never once witnessed me order it Holmes it does not surprise me that you’d know precisely what my favorite cup of tea is.”

“Your curiosity, however, is piqued by just how I’d know when to place the order. Am I right?”

“You knew that I was going to check in on Mr. Roth, who by the by is doing fine save for a mildly bruised rib and some swelling around the eyes. It would have been simple enough for you to reason that my visit would take approximately fifteen minutes. You then knew that I would return straightaway to Baker street to report my findings and that I would immediately discover the rather cryptic letter that you left for me.”

I nodded.

“What I do not comprehend is how you deduced precisely how much time it would take me to decipher its contents and then locate you. Really Holmes, instead of a wild goose chase you could simply have told me where to meet you. A test of my powers of reasoning?”

“Indeed.” I said smugly. “How did you enjoy the bit about St. Paul’s Cathedral?”

“I did not.” he said as he folded his overcoat and sat. “That still doesn’t explain how you knew when I’d arrive.”

Just then a server came out onto the terrace where we were seated and placed a steaming hot cup of tea in front of the doctor.

“Elementary my dear Watson.” I said, then leaned forward and smiled. “I simply instructed the staff to brew a new cup every five minutes and to deliver it immediately upon my companion taking his seat at the table with me.”

Watson chuckled. “And what is the point of all of this?”

“You are right Doctor, I was testing your skills...” I then admitted, “and also having a bit of fun with you.”

“You’re in a pleasant mood.” he remarked, “Is it because today is your birthday or may I assume that you concluded the business with Constable Lewis satisfactorily.”

“Oh yes. I’d nearly forgotten about my birthday.”

“Poppycock.” he responded. “Not only did you leave lying about this morning a telegram from your brother Mycroft wishing you a happy birthday but I also spied the note that you left for Mr. Hudson, instructing him to pick up a cake for you at the bakery this afternoon.”

“You know Doctor if you’re going to scrutinize my life so closely perhaps you should take to writing it down for posterity.”

“Me?” he chuckled, “With literary aspirations? That’s laughable Holmes, truly laughable. I can barely write a medical paper let alone narrate your...adventures.”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I sipped my coffee then returned to the original question.

“My birthday aside I had a most productive day. As to Constable Lewis he remains most curious about his own nature, and seeing as how you and I are the only ones in London whom he may count upon to help him with such a matter he was most inclined to keep our relationship amicable. In fact as we speak he is looking into a few things for me back at Scotland Yard.”

“What of his disappearance last night? Surely it will be difficult for him to explain his sudden abandonment of his duties.”

“He will explain that he spotted a suspicious figure trying to make a covert exit from the station and that he gave chase. That there was a brief altercation, in which his own billy club was taken from him and he received a rather severe blow to the cranium, and that he spent the rest of the night lying in an alleyway only a couple of blocks from the station.”

“Well, the mark on his temple will certainly corroborate that story.”

“Yes it will Doctor, and what’s more I believe that he will be debriefed by the party most interested in my business inside the building last night; none other than the minotaur himself. By the way, didn’t have you breakfast with that wife of yours this morning?” I changed the subject momentarily. “How did it go?”

The doctor grimaced. “You claimed last night to know who he was, didn’t you?” his attempt to ignore the subject and return to our original conversation told me not to press the matter.

“Yes,” I said plainly, pausing to sip at my coffee. “and if you shall recall you dismissed the concern entirely in order to show me your book.”

“A matter of some importance at the moment, would you not say? Besides, don’t be a prat. There’s no doubt that the beast is menacing in appearance, but that hardly proves that he is behind the overarching plot that you are investigating.”

“If he is confirmed to be whom I believe him to be then yes, I will have strong evidence that it is indeed he who has been manipulating events at Scotland Yard.”

“Then tell me, whom do you suspect?”

“It’s all in this notebook here Doctor.” I smiled. “I’ll tell you when I’m more certain.”

“Give me that.” he demanded, then reached for the leather-bound volume, sealed with a bit of string, that sat in front of me.

Like two adolescent school boys we wrestled over the object for a few moments until he finally managed to pry it from my grip.

“Fine.” I scoffed, then returned my attention to my coffee.

He untied the knot in the scrap of string and flipped through the book’s pages for a few minutes as he enjoyed his tea. Occasionally I would see an eyebrow raise or his eyes squint.

“This is just bits and pieces, random words scrawled unintelligibly.” he declared at last and tossed the notebook back onto the table unceremoniously.

“To you Watson. But I have a system.” I pointed to my head and smiled sarcastically.

“I have no doubt.” he said with a mock grin. “To be quite honest I’ve watched you scurry all over town for the last couple of weeks poking your nose into seemingly random places, ruffle Detective Lestrade’s feathers with twice-daily reports from Graham Roth, and break into the headquarters of the metropolitan police, abducting a constable no less, and yet I’m no closer to understanding what on Earth it is that you are piecing together.”

“Through no fault of your own Doctor, you are a busy man with your practice and all.” the comment was meant to be a friendly jab, “But to be honest it is rather complex and though I’ve made some progress it’s still rather unclear even to myself. I do, however, promise you Watson that the moment I have managed to at least put together a working theory I shall fill both you and Lestrade in fully.”

“Well that’s a relief, and have you any idea as to when that might be?”

I looked past him, to a figure approaching in the distance. One who was attempting to cross a busy intersection without being trodden under the feet of countless horses.

“That would be the constable’s messenger now.” I motioned with my head for him to turn and look. “If my suppositions are correct then I believe that in only a few moments I shall possess the necessary pieces with which to construct a clearer picture of this puzzle.”