Chapter Five

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Chapter Five

Holmes

The wind had picked up, but luckily the downpour of earlier had tapered off into a light drizzle, which soon ceased, and I found a cab. I climbed in, extremely thankful for the protection from the wind. I made it to the station without event, paid the cabman, and sprinted through the front doors of Scotland Yard. My usual pestering targets of bygone years were pleased that upon this occasion, I was choosing to ignore them and march directly into Inspector Lestrade's office.

Lestrade was not entirely pleased about my barging in unannounced, but I really could not have cared less. After glancing up from the papers on his desk to discover the identity of his visitor, he returned to scratching away on some document on his desk. "If you're here for more information regarding that attempted poisoning of your brother, I don—"

"Inspector Lestrade, Watson has been abducted." Blunt and simple directness were always key in getting the ferret-faced detective's attention, and this time was no exception.

His head shot up so quickly I was sure something in his neck would break. "What?"

"Less than an hour ago, in an alley near Chagford Street," I explained, leaning my damp umbrella against his desk and seating myself across from him. "The only witness was a five-year-old street urchin, who was ordered by the abductors to bring me this—" I extracted the calling card Tom had given me from a waistcoat pocket "—which is the second of two messages I have received. The first, Cauldwell brought to the flat himself while Watson and I were out this morning." I took the other card from my pocket and handed it to him as well.

Lestrade studied the cards for a moment, then looked back up at me, frowning. "Cauldwell simply showed up at your flat?" he queried incredulously. "The man's wanted for questioning, and your flat would have to be one of the most dangerous places in London for him!"

"Not if he knew we were both out at the time," I countered. "I am certain we are all being watched: the police, my brother, Watson—before the fiend captured him—and myself."

"That's hardly a comforting thought," Lestrade muttered to himself. "You know I'll have to keep these," he said apologetically, holding up the cards. "Police evidence, you know."

I nodded; there was nothing more to be deduced from them, and would do no more good in my hands than they would in his.

"Do you have any information regarding the people who captured the Doctor?" he asked.

"Only what I could glean from the boy who saw it happen," I replied gravely, handing him the notes I had scribbled down based on Tom's description of the abductors. "It won't be much to go on," I warned.

Lestrade scanned the paper. "Only two descriptions here are worth anything at all: the more detailed description of the bearded man, and that of the blond man." He looked up at me. "We had a man very much like your description of the blond chap in here last week on a murder investigation. The evidence was too circumstantial and his alibi too strong for us to charge him, but I was certain of his guilt and remain so. He had that particular smug look about him. I shall do my best to have him brought in about this, and have the alleys around…was it Chagford Street, did you say?"

I nodded.

"I'll make sure the alleys near Chagford Street are searched for any evidence and the fair-haired fellow is brought in. I shall also see what I can do with this description of the bearded man. You don't mind if I keep this?" He held up the paper.

"Not at all," I replied, and stood up, realising as the shock from the whole ordeal was wearing off that I was a few bad seconds away from a complete emotional collapse. I needed to get out immediately. "That is all I have for you for now, but I'll notify you as soon as anything happens."

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