And In Walked Portia Adams

Two steps back

A room full of busy young officers doesn't drop to silence easily, so I looked up from the report I had been reading to see Sergeant Michaels escorting a pretty young woman into his office, closely followed by Detective Inspector Archer. Archer gave the lady an encouraging smile and closed the door behind them, turning back to face the rest of us in the large bullpen.

That must be the witness, I thought to myself, nodding at Whiggins who was making his way to Archer where he was hanging up his overcoat on the hook.

"Before you ask, Whiggins, yes, Michaels said you could attend the statement." Archer said with a sigh our way. Whiggins grinned and adjusted his uniform before knocking at Michaels' door.

I followed Archer over to the bulletin board where he was switching out this week's duty roster.

"Need me to bring Fawkes up from holding Sir?" I asked, eager to be of help.

"Eh?" Archer answered before focusing in on me, "Oh, Dawes it's you. Let's wait and see what the lady says before exposing her unduly. Has Fawkes said anything useful?"

I shook my head, "Nothing except to ask when he will be released."

"Odd." replied Archer, signing something on a clipboard for another officer before turning back towards me, "Well the truth of the matter is that if that witness cannot identify the man she saw stealing her jewellary, then Fawkes will have to be released."

I must have let my frustration show on my face because he continued with a kind smile: "No evidence on his person, no identification from his victims. The man is innocent till proven guilty."

"So he doesn't have to explain to us why he was running away from the crime scene in the middle of the night?" I said.

"The burden of proof rests on us," Archer answered, "though we can interogate him and hope he slips up. Does he seem llike the kind of bloke who's likely to slip up?"

I shook my head again as Michaels opened the door, sought the detective inspector out with his eyes and stepped our way.

"Well, she says she didn't get a decent look at the man who robbed her, but she's willing to try." Michaels said as soon as he got to our side, lighting a new cigar as he spoke. "I sent Whiggins to bring up Fawkes along with some of his cellmates."

"Best that we do this quickly, I agree Sergeant." Archer said approvingly.

"Yes, well, at least before anyone else catches wind of our witness," Michaels said with a glare towards the front door of our offices, "your student, she's not a gossip is she? God knows Watson knew enough to keep his mouth shut, but if she talks to the press, we'll have a bungle on our hands."

"What?" I interupted, and then snapped my mouth shut as both of my superiors swung their gazes my way. I swallowed nervously, "Sorry Sirs, you were talking about one of your students? She was here?"

"Strolled right up to us bold as brass she did," Michaels said with a suspicious eye in my direction, "what did she say her name was Archer?"

"Miss Portia Adams of Baker Street." Archer replied with a grin, revealing his feelings towards my landlady, "and no, I don't believe her to be the gossiping type Sergeant, so don't worry. Ah, here comes Fawkes  - Dawes, lend a hand would you? Hopefully, this young lady can make a positive ID of the man and we can put this jewel theft case to rest!"

* * *

"Am I too early?" she said, when I opened the door to her knock.

"Not at all," I replied, taking in her fine skirt and blouse and deciding that her guardian did have some redeeming qualities. "You're just in time to help me set the table for dinner."

My mother bustled in with a smile, "Good evening little miss, I hope you like pea soup!"

Portia blanched slightly, but managed a smile and a nod towards my mother, which I appreciated.

"Here, you do the cutlery, I'll take care of the bowls," I suggested, directing her to the appropriate drawer in the hutch.

"Mr. Dawes, I've been meaning to ask, did your witness manage to identify the man you arrested?" she said, her eyes on mine.

"I'm surprised you didn't hang around to find out yourself," I answered, putting down the fourth bowl as I spoke, "No, she couldn't pick him out of the group, so we had to let him go. He grinned all the way out the door."

"So back to square one?" She replied.

"One step forward, two steps back." I agreed. "You could have come in you know. The offices are open to the public."

She blushed: "Actually, I would have. Professor Archer has offered to give me a tour of Scotland Yard, but I met with ... some resistence."

"Ah." I said with a nod, "Was this resistence named Sergeant Michaels?"

She smiled my way, the redness in her cheeks receding, "He didn't seem to like me much."

"He doesn't like Holmes and therefore finds admiration of the man annoying," I explained, "I'm careful to keep my admiration under a tight lid in his presence."

"I must admit, I like the comparison." she said, pulling out a chair to take a seat, "but I will keep that in mind if I ever deal with that sergeant again."

"You will." I said, with a surety I couldn't explain. That made her smile and it held even as my mother delivered the pea soup directly in front of where she was sitting.