“Another day, another case, Joan.” Gabriel said, grabbing his coat and hat, clearly preparing to leave for the day.
I stopped dusting. “Of course, sir. When will you be back? If you’ll be late, I can tell Mrs. Hudson just to keep some leftovers for you.”
Gabriel stopped, a confused expression crossing his features, “But aren’t you coming?”
It was my turn to be confused. “I…I want to.”
He studied me for a moment with his sharp eyes, “Did you think that I wasn’t going to ask you along?”
“I…I was confused.” I shrugged, setting aside the feather duster. “I got the impression that you…maybe wanted to be alone for this case. But never mind. I’m not confused anymore. Let me grab my coat.” I did so.
“Good.” He nodded, opening the door for me. “I’m sorry that I gave you the wrong impression. You started this case with me, I daresay you wish to see it out.”
“I do.”
“Good. Come along, Joan.” Sir Locke hailed a cab, and soon we were on our way to the home of Martin Morstan’s employers.
“You do like a good locked room mystery, don’t you?” I asked him. It hadn’t been the first he’d come across.
“Everyone loves a good locked room mystery.” Gabriel told me, flashing a bright, brief smile at me. “Even the dull Mr. Morstan can’t deny that.”
“You find him dull?”
“Don’t you?” he chuckled.
“He seemed animated enough to me.” I shrugged. It didn’t hurt that the client was a rather attractive fellow, either.
Gabriel shrugged, “One can be animated and dull at the same time. Dullness is a state of mind, really.”
“You confused me better than anyone else in the entire world.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“I don’t understand.” He frowned.
“I see that the feeling is mutual.” I laughed, he could be extremely amusing sometimes, and something told me that this occasional lack of social aptitude was part of his strange charm. “But I would hate to think that I’m possibly someone with a dull state of mind…”
“I don’t know if I should keep you around if you were.” Gabriel told me.
“Then if you ever fire me, I’ll know it’s because I’ve let my mind grow dull.”
“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Joan.” He chuckled. It was a kind comment. “You’re simple, perhaps, but not dull.”
“And the tactless terror is at it again.” I sighed, shaking my head. “You have a way of giving the most insulting compliments.”
He blinked, “I don’t mean to insult or compliment. It was just a fact.”
“Then maybe lie to me a little, tell me I’m smart sometimes, would you? I am a doctor, after all. And they don’t just let anyone be a doctor. Only one hundred out of the five hundred people that initially signed up for the government-sponsored doctors’ classes that I was in actually ended up seeing the courses through, as most dropped out and others still failed out. Out of that one hundred people that did succeed, however, I had the highest scores on all of our examinations, practical and written.”
“When I said simple, I didn’t mean that as a comment on your intelligence, Joan.” He clarified quietly.
“Oh good, here I was thinking that you found me stupid.”
“You always seem to be under the impression that I find you stupid, and that’s never the case, I’ve said it many times, Joan. You’re not stupid.” Gabriel shook his head. The cab rumbled to a stop, and we clambered out.
--
“Forgive my insecurities, Gabriel.” Joan sighed, shaking her head. His companion then looked around at their destination, dark, wide eyes drinking in the place. Mr. Morstan’s employers lived in a lovely three-story manor house. “Must be nice.” Joan sighed wistfully.
“Don’t you like our Cooke Street quarters?” Gabriel asked, amused.
“Oh no, I didn’t mean that I don’t like Cooke Street.” She shook her head quickly.
“Good. I mean, I could move. It’s not as if I couldn’t afford a house like this…” After all, he’d been solving crimes for a very, very long time, and his clients often rewarded him handsomely for his work, if they could afford to do so.
He’d been given fabulous jewels worth small fortunes on their own, as a show of gratitude, and that was on top of the usual amount that he charged for wealthy clients. But his clients of more humble means often found that their fees were forgotten about, or waived from the very beginning, as he didn’t have the heart to take their money, nor did he need it.
“Really?” The doctor looked surprised.
“Yes.”
“Oh.” She blinked, apparently not having realized his monetary value.
“You should see my brother’s home.” Sir Locke chuckled.
“Why do you say that?”
“It falls a little short from being a full-blown castle.”
“I thought you said he occupied a minor position in the government!” Joan cried.
“Did I?” He was amused by his own previous words, as well as the look of astonishment on her face; her dark eyes were wide, and her lips, which were a peculiar shade of pink, were parted in this surprise. “Perhaps I understated his value.”
“Indeed!” the small doctor muttered, looking back at the manor house in front of them, and falling silent.
“Shall we?” He motioned at the door after a little while.
“No, let’s stay outside.” She told him sarcastically, rolling her eyes, but smiling.
“I’m glad to see your sarcasm is in working order.” He paused as she rewarded him with a giggle, then asked. “Would you do me a favor, once we’re inside?”
“I daresay it’s part of my job to do favors.”
“Would you interview the house staff? See if they know anything?”
“Ah, the common folk.” Joan said knowingly, nodding her head, “I won’t intimidate them like you do.”
“I intimidate people?”
“I know that I was pretty scared of you, at first.” She told him, shrugging.
He blinked. Surprised by her response. “Oh. What about now?”
Her expression softened, “Of course not. You’re my best friend, Gabriel.”
“I think that makes you mine, then, as well. My best friend, I mean.” He winced, not meaning to have said it quite the way he had.
“I knew what you meant.” She laughed, patting his arm comfortingly.
--
“Right.” Gabriel knocked on the door. A butler opened the door, and told them that they were expected, and gave apologies that the Master and Missus of the house weren’t around. “That’s all the same, I’ve no desperate need to talk to them.” He said.
“Very good, sir.” The butler nodded politely.
“Sir Locke! It’s good of you to come!” Mr. Morstan said, appearing from one of the hallways. “I was just having a bit of a late breakfast, would you and your companion care to join me?” I was a bit miffed that my name wasn’t remembered, but it really didn’t matter. Or it shouldn’t matter, but it did. Attractive men very rarely remembered my name. Or noticed me, it seemed. I should have been used to it already, but I wasn’t.
Anyways, it wasn’t as if I warranted any attention, nor did I really want it, in the end, if I was being honest. I didn’t have time for such things, so it was alright, really…I’d already accepted that I wasn’t likely to settle down or get married.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
“Thank you for the offer, but I’d rather get right to it.” Gabriel replied, rubbing his long fingers together eagerly.
“Your methods are your own, good sir!” Mr. Morstan nodded understandingly, “Let me show you to my quarters.” The two men disappeared up a staircase.
The butler had already disappeared, so I took it upon myself to complete the venture that Gabriel had assigned to me, and went in search of some house-staff.
--
“Sir Locke?” Martin Morstan addressed him.
“Hm?” Gabriel didn’t look up from the lens that he was examining the window ledge with, halfway hanging out of said window as he did so.
“Is it not a little peculiar for a detective to bring his maid along with him?” the man inquired, sounding doubtful.
The mention of Joan brought Gabriel’s attention fully to the conversation. “Not when one’s maid is also a fully–qualified, completely competent doctor as well.”
“A doctor? I’ve never heard of a woman doctor before! I would think the fair sex weren’t well-suited for it…” he sounded baffled.
“She’s a damn good one, and a dear friend as well.” Gabriel replied mildly. He felt proud to be allowed to call her such, and found that it was because she was his friend that he felt so compelled to tell everyone how helpful her presence was to him.
Of course, he’d never been her patient himself, though he’d seen her work first hand.
On one occasion, while out on a case with him, an innocent bystander had been shot by the suspect that they’d been pursuing. Joan had made Gabriel stop his pursuit, and allow the police to continue without them, so that she could tend to bystander’s injuries, subtly using her magic to ease her patient’s pain as she quickly removed the bullet, cleaned the wound, stemmed the bleeding, and bandaged it neatly. He’d also seen her set and splint a child’s broken leg, the little boy had been thrown by a horse that had been spooked. She’d kept the little one from being frightened while she worked, and had tended to him until the boy’s parents had been able to get him to a proper hospital. And though he hadn’t directly seen her tend to Mr. Heatherly’s wound, he had seen the skill with which the injured hand had been bandaged with, and Mr. Heatherly had told him later, in a letter of thanks, that his hand was recovering far more quickly than his regular doctor had expected. That was a testament to Joan’s particular brand of healing magic.
“I see.” Mr. Morstan’s tone was still confused.
“Joan was an army doctor.” Gabriel told him as he continued his examination. “She was injured, and got a medical discharge. It’s hard for women to get jobs in such a prestigious field, so she was forced to take work where she could. Luck brought her to me.”
“You believe in luck?” Mr. Morstan was clearly skeptical.
“Don’t you? After all, it is quite a thing to have pearls randomly appear on your birthday, like clockwork…but perhaps fate is a better word.” Or magic. To Gabriel, fate was a kind of magic. It couldn’t be explained, but there did seem to be some sort of design in it. An inexplicable design, but a design, nonetheless, and that’s exactly what magic was, inexplicable, unpredictable, but still with some design behind it.
“She helps you solve cases?”
“More or less. She’ll tell you less, I’ll tell you more. As an added perk, Watson also cleans my house, as I’m positively incapable at it, and makes excellent scones…It’s my firm opinion that everyone should have such a doctor on their retainer.” Gabriel sighed, finally pocketing his lens as he straightened back up, and felt the blood rush from his head. “No, they certainly didn’t come through the window…”
Martin Morstan laughed, “I should think not! And where might I find such a doctor to keep on my retainer?”
Gabriel blinked, and then smiled politely at his client. “I must apologize. I do appear to have implied that there is more than one doctor quite like Watson, when in fact, she’s the only one of her kind, I believe. And I am not in any mind to let her be stolen away to be someone else’s doctor, so I must beg a thousand pardons.”
“I’m not out to steal your dear doctor, I promise!” Mr. Morstan laughed, waving his hands. “Besides, I’m still not convinced that a woman would be a good doctor, anyways, I was more interested in your praise of her scones…”
The detective frowned as he looked around the rest of the room, but refrained from commenting. Sometimes people had such closed minds. “If you’ll not be convinced otherwise, then I shan’t try to.” Although Gabriel hoped that nothing could tempt her away from his employ. He enjoyed her company.
Almost as if on cue, Joan entered the room, “Oh good, I’m glad you’re still in here. I spoke with the staff, sir.”
Sir Locke noted that Mr. Morstan suddenly seemed uneasy at her reappearance, and shifted on his feet, then excused himself quietly from the room. Joan frowned, clearly confused as to why the client had abandoned them. “And?”
“They’re just as clueless about it as Mr. Morstan.” She shrugged, apparently pushing her confusion away. “But it’s a very much talked about and theorized subject. You should hear some of their ideas!”
“I would rather not.” Gabriel shuddered, not wanting to know the theories of simple minds.
“I didn’t imagine you would.” Joan laughed. “I suggested to them that perhaps fairies were doing it. That got a laugh.”
--
Gabriel looked stunned for a moment, and was silent, blinking rapidly.
“What?” I frowned, slightly afraid that he would announce how ridiculous of a suggestion that had been, though it had been a joke. “I know it was a stupid suggestion, but I was just joking along with the kitchen staff…”
“No.” Gabriel shook his head vigorously, “It’s brilliant, Joan, brilliant.”
I stared at him, feeling rather befuddled. “Are you suggesting that this is the work of fairies?”
“Not fairies, no, but you’re thinking on the right track. Fairies don’t mind to be seen.” He said whirling about now, looking around the room quickly and excitedly. “And we do not have fairies here in the city, it’s too far away from their forest realms. But there are certainly other explanations that are in that vein of thought.” Sir Locke waved his hand, and I felt his powerful magic surge through the air. His eyes glowed with golden light and he continued to scan the room, clearly in the middle of an epiphany. “Ah!” he cried, and gave a knowing smile. The glow faded, revealing his sharp, dark eyes once more, which were bright and satisfied, telling me thathis curiosity had been sated, if he indeed hadn't already solved the case. “This room has already known magic.”
“What? Surely not!” I blinked. Had the man lost his mind? How on earth could magic have ended up here, of all places?
“Dear Joan, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth…” Gabriel muttered.
My eyebrows shot up. “Then you’re saying that it’s impossible for someone to have picked the lock?”
“They would have left marks that I would have seen immediately. I am very familiar with the way locks look when they’ve been picked.”
“And there’s no way through the window?” I pressed him.
“No.” he shook his head. “You should be happy, Joan. Your guess is very close to being right, and has put me on the right track.”
“It wasn’t my guess...It was just a joke, really, but thank you all the same. Will you explain?” Unfortunately, I was still confused.
“Forgive me, doctor, I need more evidence before I can say absolutely certainly.” Gabriel replied. Going to the door, he called for Mr. Morstan to return.
“How can I help?” Martin asked.
“You mentioned that your parents died when you were young, yes?”
“Yes.” The client blinked, “But I fail to see how that has anything to do with this.”
“Naturally.” Gabriel said, impatiently, “If it’s not too much trouble, would you tell me how they died?”
“The caravan that they were riding with was attacked by thieves.” Mr. Morstan told him. “They were murdered during the fight.”
“I am guessing that your mother probably had valuables with her?”
“I really wouldn’t know.” Mr. Morstan seemed confused, “I was very little, after all. I mean, perhaps she had jewelry…Actually, I’m almost certain that she would have had jewelry. You see, once upon a time, my family was quite wealthy, but the money dwindled away after my parents died, since my Uncle wasn’t quite up to running my father’s company, and he was forced to sell it.” The poor fellow!
“Yes. Yes. This is promising.” Gabriel nodded, his face content. “Now, when is your birthday?”
“Two days from now.”
“That gives me just enough time to finish my inquiries.” Sir Locke said. “Is it alright if we return on the day in question?”
“Certainly!”
“We might have a bit of a sit-up that night. But we shall see.” Gabriel fell into a brooding sort of silence, and then shook himself. “Come along, Joan, there’s much to do!” he hurried from the room.
I curtsied hastily to Mr. Morstan, feeling my face flush a little, and then limped after my employer and friend. “Not so fast, Gabriel! I can’t keep up!”
“Oh, sorry. I forget about your leg.” The detective slowed his pace, allowing me to catch up.
“Thank you.” I said. “That’s a sad story about Mr. Morstan’s parents.”
“A lot of people have sad stories.” He shrugged. “You have a sad story, if you’ll remember.”
My face flushed a little. “Well, yes. But it’s worse for him, I think. He would have been rich had his parents not died.” I shook my head. “Mine didn’t have that kind of money.”
“They were still your parents.” He said in a quiet voice, opening the front door for me.
“Yes, and I couldn’t have asked for better ones. They always supported my dreams of becoming a doctor.” I told him. “I only wish that they’d lived to see me actually achieve my dreams.”
“Not everyone is so supportive of such ambitions. Mr. Morstan, for example.”
“What do you mean?” I was immediately taken aback.
“He asked why I brought my maid with me, and I said that you were my resident doctor. Then I’ll be dashed if the man didn’t say that he thought women were ill-suited for being doctors.”
My heart felt heavy, though it wasn’t as if the man had shown any particular interest in me, so I really had no cause to be upset, but I was, all the same. “Did he?”
“Yes. Although I’ll admit, I know I’ve made calloused comments in the past about your gender…”
“Yes, but you were angry, and said them just to be mean. Not that that’s okay, but you didn’t really mean it.” I said.
“It’s a mistake that I won’t make again.” He shook his head, frowning a little. “And you’re right in that I didn’t mean it, I was simply being rude because…because you had managed to upset me. He wouldn’t be convinced otherwise, though.”
That said to me that Gabriel had tried to convince him that women made good doctors, and my heart lightened a little. Though he had his faults, he was a good friend. “Thank you, Gabriel.” I said quietly. Attractiveness wasn’t everything in a man, after all. Sure, Mr. Morstan was a good-looking fellow, but in the end, I had to admit that I’d rather fall in love with someone like, well, Gabriel (perish the thought), simply because he could accept women as capable doctors.
“For what?”
“For standing up for me, even when I wasn’t there.”
“I’m not so sure I did a good job of it, Joan. He wasn’t convinced.”
“It’s the thought that counts.” I told him as he hailed a cab. It was almost as if he was fond of me…but he was my friend, after all, and so nothing was amiss, indeed it probably would be odd if we were friends and he weren’t fond of me.
Gabriel shrugged, “If you say so.”