A Consulting Detective, Ex Army Doctor, and Child Mercenary Walk Into A Room

Chapter 3: The Hounds of Baskerville

In cages all over the place are rats, mice, monkeys ... and dogs. I clench my fist to keep from punching something. The poor dogs. "How many animals do you keep down here?" Sherlock asks. "Lots." "Have any of them ever got out?" Lyons smiles. "They'd have to know how to get through that door, sir. And we're not breeding them that clever." "Unless they have help?" I questioned. Lyons doesn't respond. "What exactly do you do down here?" asks John. "I thought you'd know. This being an inspection. Sir." "Yes. But I'm not an expert. Am I?" says John rather coldly. Lyons is stung by this and tries to make amends. "Everything from stem cell research to trying to cure the common cold, sir." "But mostly weaponry?" asks John. "Of one sort or another." "Biological, chemical ..." I trail off. "One war ends. Another one begins. New enemies to fight. We have to be prepared. This way, please."

Lyons leads the way across the room. My eyes linger on one scientist as they open a sealed, sterile interior door. Inside is a huge stainless-steel object like a fridge. They take out a tray of jars and a wave of icy mist tumbles into the room. In each of the jars is an animal embryo, though it's impossible to make out exactly what species. "Can I help?" asks one of the scientists. "That's okay, Dr. Frankland. Just showing these gentlemen around." A slight cough was heard from me. "And a young lady." "Oh. New faces! How nice. Careful you don't get stuck here, though. I only came to fix a tap." Dr. Frankland smiles and then passes us, walking to the lift.

John nods toward the lift. "How far down does that go?" "Quite a way." Dr. Frankland gets into the lift and the doors close over his face. As they do, he narrows his eyes at Sherlock. Does he recognize him? "And what's down there?" John asks. "We have to keep the bins somewhere, sir." We're led down a dimly lit corridor. "Get out much, do you? From Baskerville, I mean?" John asks. "Not really, sir. It's a bit like doing a tour of a duty on a sub. We rarely come up for air. There's a mess room where we're meant to unwind. But you can only watch The Lion King so many times, you know." Beep! Beep! We enter another lab. It's a huge white room studded with small amber colored windows. There's a smaller room towards the back. It's labeled Cryo-Danger. Through it's amber colored windows is a sandy haired woman bending over a centrifuge. Test tubes spin wildly. She catches sight of us and comes out.

"Ah. Dr. Stapleton," said Lyons. Sherlock and I are more alert now. "Stapleton?" I ask. "Yes. Who's this?" "Priority ultra, ma'am. Orders from on high. An inspection." "Really? Even the child?" "We're to be accorded every courtesy, Dr. Stapleton. What's your role at Baskerville?" asked Sherlock. She laughs contemptuously. "Accorded every courtesy, wasn't that the idea?" John asks. "I'm not free to say. Official secrets," Dr. Stapleton said. "Oh, you most certainly are free. And I suggest you remain that way," Sherlock threatens. "I have a lot of fingers in a lot of pies. I like to mix things up. Genes, mostly. Now and then, actual fingers," says Dr. Stapleton. "Stapleton - I know the name," said Sherlock. "I doubt it." Sherlock takes out a notebook and hastily scribbles down something.

"People say there's no such thing as coincidence - what dull lives they must have," Sherlock said. He holds up the note. It says: BLUEBELL. "Have you been talking to my daughter?" she asks. "Why did Bluebell have to die, Dr. Stapleton?" I ask. "The rabbit?" John asks, confused. Sherlock looks at Dr. Stapleton in the eyes. "Disappeared from inside a locked hutch. Which was always suggestive." "The rabbit?" John keeps asking. "Clearly an inside job," I scoffed. "Oh, you reckon?" "Why? Because it glowed in the dark?" Sherlock asks Dr. Stapleton. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Who are you?" Dr. Stapleton asks the three of us. Sherlock checks his watch. "Well, I think we've seen enough for now, Corporal. Thank you so much." "That's it?" "That's it." "Just a minute!" Dr. Stapleton calls out. "It's this way, isn't it?" Sherlock asks.

Sherlock and I make our way to the lift while John catches up. "Have we broken into a military base to investigate a rabbit?" John asks in disbelief. Sherlock swipes his ID through the door reader. Beep! Sherlock, John, Lyons, and I hurry through the first lab. My phone buzzes. I check it. It read: What are you doing? "Twenty-three minutes," Sherlock said reading the text over my shoulder. I smile. "Mycroft's getting slow." Sherlock swipes his ID card through the elevator reader. Beep! The elevator doors open revealing Dr. Frankland. "Hello again," he said. We join Dr. Frankland inside. A minute later, the elevator doors spring open revealing Major Barrymore. "Oh - Major -" Lyons started. "This is bloody outrageous! Why wasn't I told?" Sherlock, John, and I step past him into the corridor and walk swiftly towards the exit. Major Barrymore races after us. Dr. Frankland and Lyons bring up the rear.

"Major Barrymore, is it? Yes. Well. Good. Very good. We're very impressed. Aren't we, Mr. Holmes and Ms. Moriarty?" John asks Sherlock and me. "Deeply. Hugely," said Sherlock. I just nod my head in agreement. My phone buzzes again. It read: What's going on, Lune? "The whole point of Baskerville was to eliminate this kind of nonsense!" Barrymore shouts. "I'm so sorry, Major -" Sherlock starts. "Inspections!" " - but it's a new policy. We can't leave you un-monitored forever. Goodness knows what you'd get up to," Sherlock finishes. "Keep walking," he tells us. Suddenly a klaxon shrieks! Lyons races up to us, phone in hand. "Sir! ID unauthorized, sir!" "What!" John and I said at the same time. "Just had the call," said Lyons. Major Barrymore is pleased. "Is that right?" He slams his hand against a button on the wall and the door in front of us seals with a hiss. We are trapped and Sherlock is totally calm. "Who are you?" Major Barrymore asks us. "Look, there's obviously been some kind of mistake -" John starts.

Major Barrymore holds out his hand, Sherlock gives him the ID card. "Clearly not Mycroft Holmes," said Major Barrymore. John tuts. "Computer error, Major. It'll all have to go in the report." "What the hell's going on?" the Major asks. At this point I agree with Major Barrymore. "It's alright, Major. I know exactly who these people are." Dr. Frankland appears from behind. "You do?" "Getting slow on faces - but Mr. Holmes isn't someone I expected to show up in this place," Dr. Frankland said. Sherlock's bracing himself for a rapid fire explanation.

"Ah! Well!" Sherlock says. "Good to see you again, Mycroft," said Dr. Frankland. The three of our faces must've been priceless. "I had the honor of meeting Mr. Holmes at the W.H.O. Conference. Brussels, wasn't it?" "Vienna," said Sherlock blithely. "That's right," said Dr. Frankland. He smiles pleasantly at Major Barrymore. "This is Mycroft Holmes, Major. There's obviously been a mistake." Major Barrymore looks them glacially up and down. "On your head be it, Dr. Frankland." Major Barrymore jabs his finger at the button and the door unlocks. Major Barrymore turns on his heels and goes. "I'll show them out," said Dr. Frankland to Lyons. "Very well, sir."

We walk briskly out the front doors. "Thank you," Sherlock tells Dr. Frankland. "This is about Henry Knight, isn't it?" The doctor asks. Sherlock doesn't answer. "Thought so. I knew he wanted to get help. Didn't realize he's contacted Sherlock Holmes. Oh I know who you really are. Never off that website! Thought you'd be wearing the hat." "It wasn't my hat." "Hardly recognise you without it." "Really wasn't mine. "Love the blog too, Dr. Watson," Dr. Frankland told John. "Cheers." "The Pink thing! And the one about the Aluminum Crutch!" "You know Henry Knight?" I ask. Dr. Frankland's tone darkens. "I knew his dad better. He had all kinds of mad theories about this place - but still, he was a good friend -" Dr. Frankland glances around. Major Barrymore is watching us through a window.

"Look, I can't talk now. Here's my cell number." He hands Sherlock a card. "If I can help, with Henry, give me a call." "I never asked, Dr. Frankland. What is it you do up here, exactly?" Sherlock asks. Dr. Frankland smiles. "Well, you know, I'd love to tell you but then I'd have to kill you." "That would be tremendously ambitious of you. Tell me about Dr. Stapleton." "I never speak ill of a colleague." "But you'd speak well of one. Which you are clearly omitting to do." "I do seem to be, don't I?" Sherlock indicates the card. "I'll be in touch." "Anytime." Dr. Frankland heads away. "So?" John asks. "So?" "What was all that stuff about the rabbit?" Sherlock just gives an enigmatic smile. John sighs. "Oh look. Can we not do this, this time?" "Do what?" Sherlock asks. "You being all ... mysterious. With your - cheekbones - and turning up your coat collar so you look cool." "I don't do that." "Yes you do," I said. A bit miffed, Sherlock gets into the land rover. John and I get in and we drive off. We pull up sharp at the checkpoint - beep! - and then we roar away onto the moor.