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Chapter 7

I hadn’t seen my employer for a while now, and it was beginning to bother me.

Indeed he’d been out tracking down various leads for some two weeks. It was about two or so months after the Dodd and Godfrey missing person case, and he’d had a few others since then, some of them he’d solved, some of them that were still ongoing. It had surprised me a little, to find that it wasn’t often that he had only one case at a time, but indeed typically had more than one open at any given moment, or even sometimes none at all, when business was slow, for whatever reason.

Sighing, I continued to wash the dishes. Today was a test to see how I would do when Mrs. Hudson was away, as she was gone on a day trip to visit an old friend of hers, leaving me to mind the house all alone.

Although I suspected that Gabriel probably returned to his rooms to sleep for a few hours before he’d set out again in the wee hours of the morning, when I’d yet to rise. I liked Cooke Street well enough, but wasn’t fond of being alone anywhere, although I would probably have to get used to it, since Mrs. Hudson talked more and more of taking an extended vacation, citing a need to see to the care of her ailing sister.

A knock on the door sent me running out of the kitchen, as it always did, hastily wiping my hands on my apron. “Yes?” I opened the door. “Oh my!” I exclaimed as a man in his mid-thirties tumbled through the door, causing me to step aside. He was wearing a slightly dirt-smudged, grey checked suit, and looked rather worse for the wear.

“Forgive me!” The stranger gasped, weakly pushing himself up with one hand. The other of his appendages was strangely wrapped in what appeared to be his overcoat, and he clutched it close to his chest, as if it were injured. “Is this the home of Sir Locke?”

“Yes, but he’s not home at the moment. Are you injured, sir?”

“Yes! I was told that a doctor lives here too, and I require medical attention!” he gasped.

“Let’s get you up and seated, sir.” I helped pull him to his feet.

“My name is Heatherly, Victor Heatherly.” He moaned as I threw his arm around my shoulders, and showed him, stumbling, through to the kitchen, then got him situated at the table. “Please tell me that the doctor is in, though Sir Locke is out.”

“You’re in luck, Mr. Heatherly, the doctor is indeed home, and is extremely bored with doing dishes, at the moment.” I motioned at the sink, and then for him to extend his injured arm, that I might remove his makeshift bandages to see what the damage was.

“Why would a doctor be doing dishes?” Despite his injury, the man still had enough wits about him to be confused with my answer.

“When the doctor is employed as a maid, it often happens.” I muttered, gingerly unwrapping the makeshift bandage from his hand.

Understanding finally flickered across the man’s face. “Forgive me, doctor, I didn’t realize-”

“No one ever does.” I cut him off, but smiled a little, hardly blaming him for not realizing I was a doctor.

I grimaced upon finally seeing his injury. His thumb was gone, as if it had been just blown away. Indeed, that’s what the injury seemed to indicate. “This looks like…some kind of bullet wound, I think?” I observed, frowning, pulling out my handkerchief, and wrapping it tightly around the injury until I could get a more permanent solution.

“I’ll be right back.” I told the man

“Yes ma’am.”

I hurried as quickly as my limp would allow from the room, and procured some bandages and other supplies that I might need.

“You’re lucky I was just about to take a break and make tea, so there’s hot water ready as well.” I told him, pouring the steaming liquid into a bowl, that I might clean his hand before anything else. “When did you get hurt?”

“It was the early hours of the morning, I…don’t know exactly.”

“It must have bled terribly, you’re lucky to be alive!” I observed.

“It did, at first, and I fainted, but I think my coat there managed to stem the flow for a little while.”

“Yes, that seems to be the case.” I muttered.

“It’s a matter of hydraulics. I’m an engineer, so I’m accustomed to thinking about such things.” he shrugged.

“Well, your efforts saved your own life, I think, sir.” I said as I quickly bathed the spot where his thumb had once been, covertly pushing a bit of numbing magic into his hand, lest it cause him too much pain while I tended to it.

“Thankfully.”

“What made you come here?”

“You yourself observed that this was caused by a bullet, so I had cause to consult Sir Locke.”

“Why not go to a hospital first, and then present your case to my employer?”

“I knew I didn’t have the strength to make it to the nearest hospital, but had heard word that Sir Locke kept company with a doctor, and I found myself, rather suddenly, injured in a street nearby to Cooke Street, which I knew was his address. It was pure dumb luck, really.”

“Well, you did well to come here.” I sighed as I dabbed the antiseptic onto Mr. Heatherly’s hand, then gave him a shot of a local painkiller, as he would expect me to do. “I’m accustomed to tending to gunshot wounds. But unfortunately, Sir Locke is out, and I’m not entirely sure when he’ll be back.” I finally started bandaging his wound. “I can send word to him that he’s needed, but I cannot say how long it will take, will you wait?”

“I will.” He nodded.

“Alright then, I’ll send for him, and then put on some more tea for us while we wait.” I tied off the bandage, and then got up.

Stepping outside the front door, I looked around, and caught the eye of a boy hidden in the shadows of an alley just across the street. He scurried forward, having been waiting there for just that purpose, that I should need to send a message to the detective while he was out for the day. “’Ello, doctor. Need some ‘elp with sumthin’?” the slightly dirt-streaked preteen asked.

“Yes, Thomas, I need you to find Sir Locke, and tell him that he has a potential client waiting here at the house. If you return within the hour with his reply, I’ll make dinner for you.”

“I’ll do better than that, I’ll bring him back with me in an hour!” he exclaimed eagerly.

“You do that, and I’ll bake a cake as well.” I told him.

“You’re the bes’ cook, Ms. Joan!” he grinned excitedly. The boy was one of many, all basically homeless, children that Gabriel employed, throughout the city.

As children, they were able to go about mostly unnoticed, and were great sources of information, and excellent messengers. The detective, being of a surprisingly kind heart, would often bring a couple home for a snack, or a meal even, and I knew that he paid perfectly acceptable wages to all those who helped him, in an attempt to keep them from starving, as well as to encourage them to continue to supply him with a reliable information, and a message-network that operated far more swiftly than the postal system.

“I don’t know about that.” I laughed as Thomas ran off. Shaking my head, I went back inside to make tea. “Perhaps you would prefer something stronger than tea, Mr. Heatherly?”

“I won’t deny that I think it’d do my spirits good to have a sip of gin.” The potential client said, wiping his face with his good hand.

“I know where Sir Locke hides the hard stuff.” I told him, and retrieved him a glass from the study.

“Thank you, doctor..?”

“Oh, forgive me. I never introduced myself, I’m Joan Watson.”

“Thank you very much, Dr. Watson.” He nodded.

“Of course, I can’t turn away an injured person, it kind of goes against all those oaths I swore, do no harm and the like.”

“Right.” The man smiled a little, seeming a bit less shaken now, and indeed a bit less pale, as the gin had put a bit of color back in his cheeks.

As promised, Thomas brought Sir Lock back in less than an hour. They walked into the kitchen. “I guess I owe you dinner and some cake now, huh?” I asked Thomas.

“Yes ma’am!”

“Be here at six, and you’ll have both. You’ll want to bring your brother and sister along too, alright?” I told him.

“Yes ma’am!” he cried, and then left.

“You promised him cake?” Gabriel wanted to know, a slight smile hung about his features. It was always good when he smiled, it made the room seem just a little brighter, even if it was only a very slight curve of his typically straight lips.

“Only if he brought you back in less than an hour, which he did. I know how children’s minds operate, I myself am one.” I laughed. “Now, shall we all go to the study?”

“Of course.” The detective nodded. When we were situated in the study, and the client was seated on the sofa with another glass of gin, introductions were finally made between the two men. “Now pray, Mr. Heatherly, what brings you to my doorstep, and caused Dr. Watson here to send for me? I think she’s the one who bandaged your hand, yes?”

“My injury was what compelled me to seek a doctor, but it was the situation that caused my wound that made me realize that I should seek you out, rather than just a hospital. Also, I was much closer to your home than any other place that I might get medical assistance.”

“How did you know to come here for assistance?”

“You helped the father of a good friend of mine once by getting back a precious sapphire, and I have heard, many times, the tale of how Sir Locke of Cooke Street, and his doctor friend, helped retrieve it. I merely hoped that your doctor would be home, and willing to help me.”

“Ah, yes, that was an interesting one indeed. And dear Dr. Watson here is always willing to help those in need, I find.” Sir Locke nodded knowingly, “Now, please tell your story in full, and include as many details as you can.”

“I’m not entirely sure where to begin. But I guess I ought to tell you a bit about the circumstances that I found myself in just before this whole debacle occurred. I’m an engineer, as I told Dr. Watson earlier, and often take small jobs fixing machinery when I can’t find steady work, as has been my situation for a little while now, I’m sorry to say. It was this tendency to take on small jobs, and a sad lack of funds, which led me to accept a very peculiar job offer from a strange man going by the name of Mr. Stone.” He paused, gathering his thoughts, as if not sure how to continue the story.

“What was the nature of the job?” My employer wanted to know.

“The man called on me at my home, having seen my ad in the newspaper, searching for work, and proposed an odd arrangement. He offered me good money for just one night’s work. There was a stipulation, which was that I had to do the work with no questions asked. That caught me off guard, but he assured me that, as an engineer, I was well-suited for the job. Initially, it seemed a bit suspect, but the man seemed very respectable. So eventually, I accepted, as the sum he offered me was three times what I typically made in my small jobs here and there, and would see me through for a little while. It wasn’t until later that I started to think that my decision to accept the job was…well, maybe not the best. Anyways, after I accepted the job offer, Mr. Stone and I made plans for me to meet him at the train station, and that we would depart to the work site from there, in company together.”

“And you fulfilled the appointment?”

“Yes. I really did need the money, after all. He wanted me to be at the station by midnight that very night, and so I was standing outside it at exactly that time. You’ll imagine my surprise when Mr. Stone pulled up in a carriage and told me to get in. I’d thought we were going somewhere by train, which is why we’d met there. But I didn’t argue, and did as he asked. It was only upon seeing that the windows of the carriage were covered completely, with thick cloth sewn down over them, that I began to feel slightly suspicious of my employer, and second-guess my acceptance of his job offer. As we started out, I inquired lightly as to why the windows were so blocked. Mr. Stone apologized for the secrecy, but assured me of my safety, and I tried to let my anxiety go. We rode for…I think it was about a half-hour. I’m not entirely sure. I even tried to count how many turns we made, in an attempt to try and guess where we were in the city. I marked that we made seven right turns, and five to the left, although I don’t know if that will help much.”

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“Anything might be of use. It was a smart attempt, and I’m glad you were able to keep count.”

“’ve a head for numbers.” Mr. Heatherly shrugged. An engineer would, of course. He continued his story, “Anyways, I think we passed the docks once too, after the first three rights, and the second left, as my nose detected a strong smell of fish, coupled with the ringing of ship bells.”

“Good.” Sir Locke nodded. “What happened when you arrived at your destination?”

“Well, sir, when we finally stopped, Mr. Stone permitted me to exit the carriage, but I was immediately grabbed, a bit roughly, by a very large man, and was ushered into a small house. Though I did get a very brief glimpse of the neighborhood that I was in, so I might get my bearings, it wasn’t familiar to me, I’m afraid.”

“Can you give me any sort of description of what you saw?” Gabriel was leaning forward in his armchair, listening intently. Clearly this part of the story seemed crucial to him, somehow.

“The buildings were all side-by-side.” Mr. Heatherly said thoughtfully, mouth tugging down at the corners in a slight frown as he tried to remember. “And I think they were all three stories…they were all of the same style as the one I was taken into, as well. They had white walls, I think, with these dark wooden bars that crossed them, both up and down as well as side-to-side, at wide, regular intervals, and steep roofs. But that’s really all I saw before I was rushed inside.”

“What happened next?” he nodded approvingly, but still listened with an intense expression in his sharp eyes.

“By then, I was really getting scared again. But I had no choice but to let Mr. Stone and the other man lead me to the basement of the house. There I found a very strange situation. There was a drill that appeared capable of moving great amounts of earth very quickly, and a hole in the ground large enough for a man to stand upright in. I assume it had been made by the drill..” At this moment, a slight smile hovered over Gabriel’s features, and he leaned back in his chair, which made me wonder if he’d somehow already thought of a solution to whatever problem Mr. Heatherly’s case would present us with. “Finally, Mr. Stone told me about my job. I merely had to fix the drill for them. Although that’s simplifying it, because it was no small task. I’d never seen such a contraption before in my life, and it took me several hours to fix, much to the dismay of my employers, who appeared to be business partners of some kind. It’s obvious to me now that they were busy committing some crime, but exactly what that crime was, I couldn't say. Anyways, they were very irritated when I finally finished. Mr. Stone told his associate to take me back to the carriage at that point. As I was being led away, Mr. Stone told the man that he knew what to do with me. My fears were realized when, in response to this directive, the large man pulled out a gun, and marched me up the stairs, out of the building, and into the cab, which was waiting for us, driven by yet another one of their confederates, I’m sure.”

“How did you escape?” I cried, the suspense killing me, as I didn’t have the foresight that the detective did, nor was I as familiar with the inner workings of crime, and therefore couldn't guess where the story was going, or how it would be resolved.

“It was a bit of luck mixed with stupidity, I think, but it worked, and I’m alive. I noticed after the carriage took off again, that my captor had torn some of the covering off the window, and kept peeking out, probably so that he could tell the driver where to stop. So while he was distracted by that at one point, I leapt forward and tried to take the gun from him. It was reckless, but I was desperate, and didn’t want to die. I managed to tear the gun from his grip, but it slipped from my own grasp, and went flying to the other side of the carriage, where it somehow discharged. That was the bullet that took off my thumb, though I’m glad to trade one of my thumbs for my life, especially since that bullet continued on, past my thumb, and into the other man’s leg. While he howled, momentarily stunned by pain, I leapt for the gun. I probably should have been stunned as well, but my adrenaline was raging. Unfortunately, my would-be murderer regained his senses very quickly, and was just on my heel, but I turned, managed to shoot him in the shoulder, and he slumped back in the seat. After that, I threw myself from the moving carriage, lest the driver simply stop and kill me. After I picked myself up off the street, I saw the carriage starting to turn around just ahead, and I knew the driver was coming back for me. I started to run as quickly as my feet would allow, and wrapped my hand in my coat as I did, using what I knew of the human body to do what I could to stem the bleeding. It helped a little, but not enough, and I eventually fainted. When I woke up, the sun had risen, and I found that, fortunately for me, I’d fainted directly into a bush, which had no doubt hidden me from anyone that had been pursuing me. After I’d stumbled from the bush, I realized that I now recognized the street I was in. I knew that I needed medical attention, as I was very weak, but I also knew that I was a good ways away from any hospital. Then I realized that Cooke Street was close by, and the story of my friend’s father came to my mind, and I knew there might be a doctor here that could help me. So I made my way here. Dr. Watson answered the door, tended my injury, and then sent for you.” he shrugged.

“Very good. I’m glad you sent for me, Watson.” Gabriel said, standing, “This is a very interesting case, and I’m glad to take it. I’m afraid I must dash, however, as the inquiries I must make for this one require me to do them before” he paused, checking his pocket watch, “before three o’clock today, and it is almost eleven, now. Will you come with me, Watson?”

“I have some work to do around here, today, and then I promised Thomas and his siblings dinner and cake, if you’ll remember, so I need to do that as well.” I sighed, shaking my head. “Perhaps next time.”

“Oh, right.” Sir Locke blinked, “Well, Mr. Heatherly, I must go by the police station, and I think you’d better come with me, to talk to Inspector L’Strade.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

“With any luck, I’ll be back in time for dinner, Joan.” He told me as he left with the client.

“If you’re not, I’ll set aside some food for you.” I told him.

“You won’t have to!” he cried, descending the stairs.

--

When Thomas and his siblings arrived at six o’clock for dinner, I was surprised to see that Gabriel was with them. “Oh, come in, all of you! Welcome back, Gabriel.” He only smiled at me, but didn’t reply. I sensed that something was bothering him, but didn’t ask about it, figuring that he would tell me when he was ready.

The kids entered, and I led them to the kitchen, where I’d laid out a large dinner, knowing that they, and indeed Gabriel, would be quite hungry. Though I expected the detective to give an account to me of what had happened, he remained silent on the matter for the duration of the meal, and made sure that the children ate as much as they could. He even helped me fix packets of food for them to take with them when they left, an hour or so later.

“I worry for them.” He told me as he watched the children ambling down the road, from the kitchen window. Ah, so that’s what had been bothering him.

“Thomas’ family?”

“All of them, running around out there. They’re only kids.” his voice was quiet.

“I know. Did you know that I was one of those kids for a while? Running around without a home or a family?”

“You weren’t sent to a home?”

“They tried to, but I hated it, and ran away. I lived on the streets for a year, until I was sixteen.”

“Then started your medical training.” He finished my story on his own. “So you’ve always been stubborn and strong-willed?”

“I like to think so.” I smiled at him. “But come now, you’ve said nothing about how your case went. Did it go well?”

“It did. If you’ll make some coffee, I’ll tell you the story over the last two pieces of this cake.” We’d refrained from eating any of the dessert until the children had eaten their fill of it, though I suspected Thomas had instructed his siblings to leave two pieces behind, that we might have some as well. “Will you come to the study?”

“Is that even a question?” I laughed. “I’ll make the coffee, and meet you up there in a moment.”

“Alright.” He nodded, taking the remaining cake up on a tray.

I soon joined him, as promised, bringing along a pot of strong coffee. Once we were settled in our customary seats, he began. “I left here, and took Mr. Heatherly to the police station with me. He gave a report, and I told the Inspector to keep him there, lest the attempted murderers go to his home and try to silence him once more.”

“Very smart.”

“I am known to have moments of intelligence every now and again.” He quipped, a slight grin on his lips, and a warm expression in his eyes. He seemed content.

“Oh you’re so funny.” I rolled my eyes fondly at him. “What did you do after that?”

“I had already ascertained, by the description of the houses that he’d seen, where it was that he’d been taken, so it was only a small matter of time, and a little bit of nosing about the particular street, that I was able to guess what situation had occurred.”

“Do you keep a map of the city with you with descriptions of every street?” I asked, surprised.

“I keep one in my head.” He smiled, tapping his temple. “It’s dreadfully useful.”

“You really never fail to amaze me, Gabriel.” I laughed. “Please, continue.”

“On that street, there is a bank that stands, on a bit of an island, in the middle of the street, in a peculiar little fork in the road. I sent for Inspector L’Strade and a couple of constables. We arrived about a half hour before the bank closed, as they close at three on Saturdays, and explained the situation to the bank manager there, a man who I’ve helped once or twice in the past before. We told him that, in order to catch Mr. Heatherly’s would-be killers, that we needed to be locked in the bank cellar, which is right next to the vault, coincidentally.”

“So they were bank robbers?” I grinned in realization.

“Tch, you didn’t let me finish the story!” he seemed annoyed that I’d guessed. Although to be fair, that was the conclusion anyone would draw, given that he’d mentioned a bank and a vault.

“I still don’t know the details. What happened?” I asked, the story was still interesting, though I was pretty sure that I knew the outcome as well.

“Well, they locked up the building, as usual, at three o’clock, only instead of the building being empty, L’Strade, the constables, the bank manager, and I were in the basement, waiting for the criminals to enter.”

“Why didn’t you apprehend them at the house?”

“They were more likely to expect that, whereas they’d be far less prepared for a confrontation within the bank itself, before they had even breached the vault.” He explained. “Anyways, we didn’t have to wait long before a great rumbling shook the floor we stood on, like a localized earthquake. Then a great machine surface, cutting through the concrete floor, and sent dust up all over the place. After the dust had cleared a little, three men popped up out of the hole, only to be promptly arrested by the Inspector. One was the business partner, I recognized him from Mr. Heatherly’s description, and because he was bandaged in the places that our client recalled him being shot in, the next man was the one who had driven the carriage, and then Mr. Stone, who was already known to me as a thief. In fact, I suspected him in a house burglary, the owner of which reported stolen a peculiar gadget that he’d created.”

“The drill?”

“Precisely. L’Strade had consulted me on the matter, and I looked into it, but there was no proof. There were no witnesses, the rain had washed away all semblance of footsteps, and the maid had cleaned the house most thoroughly before anyone realized that anything had been taken, and several singular things had occurred, most unfortunately, so that all traces of evidence had been destroyed or cleaned away.”

“At least you never have to worry about that here.”

“What?”

“That I’ll have cleaned the house so well that you won’t be able to find evidence if we are ever burgled.” I told him somewhat sheepishly.

To my surprise, he laughed. “I wouldn't have it any other way, especially if the house isn’t as clean as others because you’ve been helping me on my cases.”

“I like helping on cases.”

“Good.” He nodded. “When is Mrs. Hudson going to be back?”

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, she sent a message saying that she’d be back tomorrow, she spent more time than she intended at her friend’s home, and missed the last train today, otherwise she’d be home already.”

“Ah, so no Mrs. Hudson tonight.”

“No, and no sleeping tonight, either, it would seem.”

“What for?”

“This coffee, I’ll be awake until the sun rises!” I frowned.

“Then, by all means, leave the rest of it for me.” he smiled amiably.

“It’s all yours.”

“I am most deeply indebted to you, Joan.” The detective, and my friend, grinned.

“Oh hush.” I rolled my eyes at him.

We sipped our coffee quietly for a little while.

“Was it hard?”

“Was what hard?”

“Life on the streets?” he asked quietly, a frown hovering over his features.

I shrugged. “I managed. I had to be really careful when I used magic when I lived on the streets, there were eyes everywhere. And you could never be quite sure where your next meal would come from, or if the alley you’d slept in would be safe to sleep in again that night. Although the ideal thing was finding somewhere better than an alley to hole up in.”

“Such as?”

“At one point, I found a mostly unused shed in someone’s backyard. They had some sweet dogs that stayed there, too, so I was always warm, even in the winter. I was lucky, though. I knew people who lost toes to the cold.”

My friend cocked his head to the side, “You’ve had a remarkably hard life, Joan.”

“I don’t know about that, there are others who have had it worse still.”

“You baffle me.” The man’s tone was quiet, his brow creased just slightly.

“Good, the feeling is mutual.” I laughed a little, wanting to turn the conversation away from my life. “Anyways, the past is the past.”

“Indeed.” He said quietly.

We soon struck up some other conversation, revolving one of his as-yet unsolved cases, and he ended up recounting old cases for me, long into the night, until I was actually tired, despite the coffee I’d drank.

“Oh dear!” I murmured, stifling a yawn, and rubbing my eyes.

“You are so very young, sometimes, Watson.”

I felt my face flush, and I looked away, rolling my eyes. “Well, I’m not that old, you must remember. Twenty-two isn’t very old, though I’ll be twenty-three fairly soon.”

“When is your birthday?”

“Ah, so that’s something that you can’t guess from just looking at me?” This amused me, as there was so much of me that he could read from just a glance.

“There isn’t a trend that can be marked by birthdates.” He shrugged.

I laughed, “Then maybe I ought to keep it a secret, if only to be able to keep at least one thing from you!”

“Oh come on, I don’t like not knowing things!” He cried, but his eyes betrayed amusement.

“It’s in a couple of weeks yet, the twelfth.” It didn’t take much convincing.

“Shall we celebrate?” he wanted to know, an uncertain look in his eye.

“That’s not necessary, but thank you all the same.” I smiled, shaking my head. “I haven’t had a birthday party in many years, it’s fine.”

“Then we must have one.” He told me, his tone now eager, “If only because then Mrs. Hudson will make a cake. She makes the best cake…”

“Was mine not good enough?”

“I did not mean to imply-” he began hastily.

I cut him off, laughing, “I was teasing, Gabriel.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “I see.”

“I’m going to head to bed now, I think.” I got up.

The detective stood as well. “Goodnight, Joan.” He said softly.

I looked up at his now familiar face, and noticed that, in that particular light, he did look a curious sort of handsome. I felt my face flush a little once more at the thought, and hoped he didn’t notice. “Goodnight, Gabriel.”

It was nice to have sat up and just talked with him, as he’d been so busy of late. Clearly I’d grown very fond of my life on Cooke Street, if I was saddened when I had not seen nor heard from the man in a while, so accustomed had I become to being in his company. And being in his company was far better than anyone else’s. I had realized that I was inexplicably fond of him. Gabriel was strange, no doubt, but he was generous, loyal, kind-hearted, when it came down to it, and genuinely cared for me.