Elementary

Posted on Jan 15, 2017 @ 9:08pm by Lieutenant Eve Dalziel
Edited on on Jan 15, 2017 @ 9:09pm

Mission: Holodeck Havoc

“Elementary”
(Continued from “Mindness”)

=/\=

Location: USS PHOENIX, Holodeck 5
SD: [2.17]0112.1900
Scene: Holmes Residence

Eve, despite the fact that this was a simulation, found herself moving like a frightened cat, nearly flying down the stairs to answer the door. Nutmeg colored wood wainscoting framed each wall at the bottom, and shadow striped wallpaper in a hunter green covered the top. Even the foyer was richly appointed with a pair of high back chairs upholstered in oxblood leather, a bookshelf full of old tomes and bric-a-brac, and a rolltop secretary desk. She felt the heaviness of the elaborately carved door as she opened it, still marvelling at how real everything was.

Her gesture was met with a perfunctory greeting from the visitor. “Good day, Mrs. Hudson. Is he in?” The man was middle aged, well-groomed, and wearing a plain but well tailored outfit, including a slightly rumpled coat. The day outside was a little overcast and gray, and it appeared that a light rain had fallen a short time ago.

“Inspector Lestrade. Yes of course, please come inside.” She took his coat and hat and ushered him upstairs to the apartment.

“Holmes,” the detective said with a curt nod. “... and good day to you, Watson.” he acknowledged both men, somehow managing to be both sedate and express urgency at the same time.

Watson grunted politely in response, seemingly more occupied with cleaning his pocket watch then the finer points of verbal courtesy.

The tall, thin man cast a withering glance at the good Doctor, put down his pipe, and then looked at the clock, pacing towards the window. “Well this certainly isn’t a social call, Lestrade. So out with it.”

“How do you know that?”

He picked up the violin, pulling the bow across the strings, making a particularly horrid note. “Well, it’s Thursday afternoon, too late for lunch and too early for tea. It doesn’t fit the established pattern of your off-time visits. I assume a particularly troubling crime has crossed your desk.”

“You assume correctly, Holmes.” He sat on the edge of the davenport.

“Good show, old chap,” Watson chimed in.

“Elementary,” Holmes said with a flourish, putting the instrument down. “It is my business to know what other people do not know.” He set his focus on the beleaguered guest. “But in this case, I believe Lestrade must begin with the details of Scotland Yard’s discovery.”

Lestrade looked grim. “We found the body of a male, caucasian, approximately in his mid thirties, on the southside docks. We are still in process of determining the time of death, but the method appears to have been strangulation.”

“Oh my, how dreadful,” Eve said, becoming immersed in the story.

Holmes seemed surprised by her outburst. However, where the fairer sex was concerned, there was still a bit left to the unknown. “Mrs. Hudson, some more tea please?” Eve paused, then nodded, taking the tray with her.

As she headed towards the downstairs kitchen, she strained to hear their conversation, but the Baker Street address was too solidly built to allow that. So, in lieu of eavesdropping, she made haste with the tea and a few cold sandwiches in case anyone was hungry.

The men were still conversing when she came back. She suspected the holodeck program was designed so she wouldn’t miss anything important, but wasn’t absolutely sure. Lestrade was outlining some of the details. “... there was no identification on the body. The only thing the victim had on him was a leather case filled with paper.”

“What kind of papers?” Watson huffed. “Business papers? A contract?”

“Not *papers*, Doctor Watson, but *paper*. The case was full of blank paper.” He produced a folded sheet and presented it to Sherlock Holmes.

The genius scrutinized the evidence. “By the watermark, this is a brand commonly sold over most of Great Britain. I don’t think that will give us much of a lead.”

“Excuse me, Inspector,” Eve asked hesitantly. “Did it look like there was an attempted robbery of the man who was killed?”

Lestrade thought for a few seconds. “Well, his pockets were turned out, and the case was rifled through, but the paper was left behind.”

She kept going. “How was he dressed? Like he was a man of means or of a lesser education?”

“I would say middle class or upper perhaps, he was wearing a tweed jacket and solid color slacks in a matching color. The only signs of wear were on his shoes.”

“The heels of them were probably badly scuffed,” She said matter-of-factly.

Lestrade looked shocked. “And how did you determine *that*, Mrs. Hudson?”

“He was likely killed elsewhere and the body dragged once it was taken to the docks. How far inside your jurisdiction was the location of the body, Inspector?”

“Less than a mile.”

Eve could feel the curious gaze of Holmes, but as of yet he hadn’t stopped her line of questioning. So she plowed forward. “I would daresay the killer brought the body to your precinct with the idea that he was challenging Sherlock Holmes himself to uncover his identity. This smacks of one man in particular-”

“Professor Moriarty!” Holmes said resoundingly. “I will not rest, Mrs. Hudson, I will not sit quiet in my chair, thinking that such a man as Professor Moriarty were walking the streets of London unchallenged.”

“Quite right, agreed,” Watson said in support.

“And I think the murder victim was holding information that Moriarty would find useful to his nefarious plots. And he was hiding said information in plain sight.”

“Whatever do you mean Mrs. Hudson?” Lestrade queried.

“I suggest holding the paper near a heat source, but not close enough to burn the paper, only thoroughly warm it.”

Holmes’ eyes flickered with an unspoken recognition, and he set about testing his landlady’s theory next to an oil lamp.

“Eh, careful there Holmes,” Watson added for good measure as he continued to nosh on one of the sandwiches Mrs. Hudson had brought with the tea. His eyes widened. “Have I gone daft or am I starting to see something on that paper?”

Holmes did not avert his gaze from the paper which was beginning to show a brown pattern of handwriting. “The first is still in question, my good friend, but information is beginning to present itself.”

Lestrade looked relieved at this new evidence. “Well done. We’ll have to examine all the other pages straightaway.”

Eve was pleased. “Whoever created the notes used a medium that could be called ‘invisible ink’. The most likely would be lemon juice, but there are other liquids which act in the same manner when etched onto paper. I doubt Moriarty would get his own hands dirty, so his henchman would have left the presumably blank paper behind after the murder, thinking it worthless.”

Holmes’ mouth twitched with indignation. She was right. “Mrs. Hudson, this is most irregular!”

Eve cringed. There was no plausible explanation for Mrs. Hudson to hijack the great Sherlock Holmes. She considered that it might be a good idea to increase the difficulty level of the mystery. “I… know your method, Mr. Holmes. It is founded upon the observation of trifles.”

“Indeed, Mrs. Hudson. Indeed.”


=/\=
NRPG: Bits of the dialogue were taken from Sir Arthur Conan Doyle quotes from his works to add authenticity.

Susan Ledbetter
Writing for

Lieutenant Eve Dalziel
Cns
USS PHOENIX