Sherlock Holmes and the Red Maverick

Chapter 7- "Dresses suit you."

As the train slowed to a stop Holmes took a step down and onto the platform. Turning on his heel to offer me a hand down. I took it somewhat reluctantly, tensions between us had been rising. He was a particularly annoying sod when he wanted to be. Behind that vast spans of logic and reasoning there seemed to be a ten year old child lurking. It irked me at times and entertained me at others. 

We began walking down the platform together toward the exit of the train station. Watson followed, heaving his heavy bag along as he went. His mustache moving around on his upper lip as he sighed with effort. Sherlock glanced to the side at a newspaper stand and redirected us to pick one up. He began flipping through it scanning the pages making concerned noises.

"Oh dear," He sighed as he set the paper back down on the little table. He turned to us with a rather grim expression. "It appears that they have blamed you for Adriano Karlotto's death."

"What why?!" I cried 

"He was found dead in your cell and apparently Lastrade didnt care to tell them that you had been set free from it only a few hours earlier." He explained pointing down the page in the paper as he went "There is a warrant out for your arrest and we can not hope to find a hotel that will take us with that over our heads. We will have to change your appearance."

"I had several articles of disguise in my bag," I sighed "But I left it behind at Baker street, Im afraid."

"This is cumbersome." Sherlock nodded his head and pinched his nose. "Well I suppose we will have to purchase something. I know an excellent tailor just down the street. I allowed him to retreat from a nasty marriage proposal. I believe I can call in that favor he owes me now."

"I wouldnt have you do that," I attempted 

"What other options do we have?" Sherlock asked as he walked me briskly through the doors, glancing cautiously back at any passerbys who might recognize me. "We cant have you getting arrested again. I am afraid that the amount of control I have over the police on this end of the country is not as extensive as my rule over the police forces in London. Much to do with the presence, or rather lack of, of Lastrade unfortunately."

He lead me onto the street and pulled us into the first alley he saw. He then lead us along several hidden streets until we had reached the back of a building. Sherlock walked up to it and knocked on the door with his knuckle and began shoving his pipe full of tobacco into his pipe from shreds he had pulled pinches of from his pocket. We waited for some time until a sleepy young man answered the door and observed his visitors. His eyes rested on Sherlock and his features morphed to display recognition. 

"Mr. Holmes," He yawned "What can I do for you at this hour."

"Do you remember that favor your promised me?" Sherlock asked as he lit his pipe and took a puff 

"I do," The man nodded, smiling genially.

"Im afraid I'll have to call upon that favor at this hour." Sherlock said seriously

The man's face flashed several different expressions until it reached submission. He slumped his chin to his chest and pulled back out of the way of the door allowing us to enter. He led us into the main room of the shop that had blue wallpaper and various tables with clothing items strewn out upon them. Filled with loose threads and a couple of spools lying around on top of them.

"What can I do you for, Mr.Holmes?" The tailor asked as he striped his robe and revealed his pajamas. He covered his mouth as he yawned again and then rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"We need new clothes for Caruso here," Holmes motioned to me.

The tailor turned to examined me. Rubbing his eyes and blinking furiously at me until he seemed to finally recognize what I was.