Sherlock Holmes- The Troubled Alias

Chapter One

In many accounts of recorded adventures with my good friend Sherlock Holmes, we have held a connection to the gang of irregulars who surrounded 221B Baker Street. It was at noon on a winter's poor day- when after several failed attempts to gain Holmes' attention I took to chasing raindrops on the window pane beside me before I noticed their leader, Wiggins, guiding a young lady towards our flat. She couldn't have been over eighteen and judging precisely from her stride alongside her frantic glances across the street, she did not live in the close area. As a car passed the two, she lifted the hem of her skirt and ran to the opposing pavement in quite a hurry. It was no surprise I then heard the doorbell not only a second later- with Holmes only lifting a finger from his chair and finally prying his gaze away from the fire before him.

"Ah, that will be our client." No doubt he had sent the young boy to find this poor girl and bring her here- for what purpose I was unsure of, yet I knew Holmes had already gathered all possible information before even meeting the lady. The door was opened by Wiggins followed by the girl- she held her auburn hair to her shoulders as she hastily ran into our rooms and stopped deliberately when she grasped the sofa arm, panting.

A nod from the boy said farewell as he descended the stairs, tipping his hat to Mrs Hudson before looking back up at the troubled lady and taking his leave.

"He was so very kind." She started. "As you could probably deduce by my attire, Mr Holmes, I was in quite some distress."

He could only nod.

"Pray, continue Miss..."

"Brown." This caught his attention as a change in the atmosphere beckoned him to change his tone of voice.

"If you wish to conceal yourself, I will be of no help to you and would be-"

"How do you know I'm lying?" She said, straightening herself and refusing to sit. A test, it seems, that my companion easily was infuriated by.

"The broach to the right of your button has the initials MA and you deliberately looked at the colour of the fireplace behind me. Shall I continue or are we finished playing silly mind games? Who are you really and why are you here. From the beginning to the end."

She held his stare as if the woman who ran in here had anything but disappeared. Her confidence struck me as not that of a boast, however more of a stable morality within herself.

"Very well."

Her obviously planned glance towards the widows made Holmes take her by the arm and lead her into the kitchen, while himself taking several glances towards the windows behind him. Had she only been being followed, he would've solely closed the drapes, but to remove her from the room entirely suggests only that she had been placed in grave danger.

"You must excuse my given name for it holds no connection to myself but of my 'employer'."

"A dangerous employer, I presume." He beckoned her to continue.

"Someone who must have great knowledge of you both if you react strongly to the name of Mary Adler. Both late lovers if I am correct in assuming."

You can imagine my surprise when my second wife's name had been spoken once after her passing which had taken me strongly a few years back. I was further surprised when Holmes burst out into laughter beside me, causing both concern to rise from me and the false alias who had named the woman worthy of Holmes' competitive standard in mistake for his lover.

It was then he snapped into his usual form and returned his gaze to the other woman before him- who had accidentally shown her first glimpse of concern towards my friend.

"Only my brother could show such stupidity. Why couldn't he come himself? Saving England from the Russians once again single handedly?" His laugh continued and the lady's face grew colder.

"He has some nerve." I spoke from the corner, observing the scene before me.

Something must have caught our client's eye at the window before she turned back to us, her back still against the wall in what seemed like fear.

Her voice shuddered as she spoke finally, her eyes revealing everything yet nothing at once.

"Apologies, my good fellows for wasting both your precious time and focus. I was only a bystander when that young man asked me to help him pull of a quick joke. I really must get going-"

"Wiggins sent you?"

She was already hurrying towards the door, rambling constant apologies and farewells. My friend could only watch from the window as she made her escape, running past Wiggins on the pavement and exaggerating a friendly salute with him stood helpless and confused in return.

There were two bangs not only five minutes later- a gun shot and the slam of our front door which aroused a yell from a furious Mrs Hudson downstairs. We were re-aquianted with our previous client, this time she was exhausted and keeling over onto our sofa- words escaping her as two more bullets flew through the Baker Street windows almost hitting her in the chest before the silence took over, the shooting came to a halt as she regained her footing.

The frantic girl we had seen not only ten minutes beforehand had now not a word to speak- for it may be her very last.

All the rush of the afternoon suddenly came to a drastic end when she fainted- taking in all of our attention for the next few weeks.