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

Chapter 6: The Hounds of Baskerville

In the morning, Sherlock and I decided to go over to Henry's place. Sherlock barges into the house, passes through a shattered looking Henry, and fling the curtains wide open. What the fuck, Sherlock. "Morning! How are you feeling?" said Sherlock quite cheerfully. "I'm - I didn't sleep very well -" said Henry. "That's a shame. Shall I make us some coffee?" Sherlock darts into the kitchen and his smile drops immediately. He goes straight to the kitchen cupboards and starts rooting around them, opening and closing doors at high speed. I walk into the kitchen and see him grab something. Henry comes in, pulling on a jumper. Sherlock was busy making coffee. "Listen. Last night. Why did you say you hadn't seen anything? I mean, I only saw the hound for a minute but -" Harry said.

"Hound," said Sherlock. "What?" "Why do you call it a hound? Why a hound?" Sherlock questions. "Why? What do you mean why?" Henry asks, confused. I rest my chin in the palm of my hand. "It's odd, isn't it? It's very odd. Strange choice of word. Archaic. That's why Sherlock took this case - 'Mr. Holmes, they were the footprints of a giant hound.' Why would you say hound?" Harry looks baffled at the question. "I dunno. I've never -" "
Actually, we'd better skip that coffee," Sherlock said. He grabbed my hand as I waved a quick goodbye to Henry and we dashed back out.

...

Sherlock and I walked to John who was at a graveyard going over his notes. We arrive in front of John around the corner. It's a brief standoff. None of us speak. Sherlock gives me a look that's close to nervous and I give him a slight nod. "Get anywhere with that Morse code?" Sherlock asks John. John shakes his head. "U.M.Q.R.A, wasn't it? What would that mean? Umqra ..." "Nothing," said John. "Umq -" "Forget it. It's - I thought I was onto something. I wasn't." "Sure?" I asked softly. "Yeah," John said. "How about Henry's therapist? Did you get anywhere with her?" Sherlock asked. "No." "Too bad. But did you get any information?" "Oh, you're being funny now, are you?" "I thought it might break the ice." "Funny doesn't suit you, Sherlock. Stick to ice," John said rather coldly. John makes to go. "John -" I reach out. "It's fine," John told me.

"No. Listen to me," said Sherlock stubbornly. John stops walking with his back to Sherlock. "Something happened last night. Something I've not really experienced before." "Yeah. You said. Fear. Sherlock Holmes got scared. You said," John said bitterly. "It was more than that, John. It was doubt. I felt doubt ..." John glances at Sherlock, still not forgiving. "I thought I could trust my own senses. The evidence of my own eyes. Till last night." "You can't actually believe you saw some kind of monster -" "No. I can't believe that," said Sherlock. He smiles grimly. "But I did see it. So the question is how? How?" "Right. Ok. Good. You've got something to go on then. Good luck with that," said John.

"Wait. What I said before, John. It's true. I don't have friends." John and I looked at Sherlock questioningly. "I've only got one." John looks away. He's touched but John's not going to show it. "Right," said John. He starts to walk away. I beam up at Sherlock. "Good going Sherlock." Surprisingly, Sherlock put his arm around me and pulled me into a hug. "What are you doing, Sherlock?" "I'm just sorry about yesterday," Sherlock mumbled. He suddenly cocks his head to one side, struck by a thought. "John, John, John ..." Sherlock yells. We dash after John. "You are brilliant! You are fantastic!" Sherlock throws at John. "Look, it's ok. You don't have to overdo the -" "You may not be very luminous yourself but as a conductor of light, you're unbeatable!" John's not sure about all of this. "Cheers. What?" "Some people who aren't geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it -"

John sighs. "You were saying sorry a minute ago! I think. Don't mess it up - what? What did I do that's so bloody stimulating?" John asks. Feeling a little out of it, my eyes wander around the area and land inside the pub. I skip inside while Sherlock and John are still having their conversation. Sherlock takes out his notebook and hastily scribbles down the word HOUND and holds it up. "Yeah. What of it?" John asks. Sherlock jabs his pen at the notebook. "Maybe it's not a word. Maybe it's individual letters." Sherlock holds up the notebook again. It now reads H.O.U.N.D. "An acronym? Why would it be an acronym?" "I have absolutely no idea. But there's ... something I can't quite remember -" Sherlock closes his eyes. Thinks, thinks, thinks. He opens his eyes. "John -" But John is staring inside the pub. Sherlock follows John's gaze. A man in sunglasses is sitting at the bar, beaming at them. Next to him is me. "Hello," said Lestrade.

The Inspector is tanned and dressed more casually than usual. "What're you doing here?" Sherlock asks in an annoyed tone. "Nice to see you too. I'm on holiday, would you believe." "No, I wouldn't," I said. "Hello John," Lestrade greets. "Greg," John replies. "Heard you were in the area. What're you up to? You after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?" Lestrade asks. "I'm waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why are you here?" asks Sherlock. "I told you, I'm -" I cut Lestrade off there. "You're brown as a nut. Clearly you've just come back on your holiday." "Fancied another one," Lestrade said feebly. "This is Mycroft isn't it?" Sherlock complained.

"Look -" "Course it is. One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to spy on me. Incognito. Is that why you call yourself Greg?" "Greg's his name!" John yells. "Is it?" Sherlock asks. At this point I'm laughing and it doesn't seem to stop. "Yes! If you'd ever bothered to find out. Look. I'm not your handler and I don't just do what your brother tells me," explained Lestrade. "Actually, you might be the man we want," said John. "Why?" Sherlock and I ask. "I haven't been idle, you two. I think I might have found something." John roots in his pocket and takes out the receipt he took from the pub. Sherlock and I take a look: Undershaw Meat Supplies, Coombe Tracey. John nods towards the bar. "That's a lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant." Sherlock is obviously pleased. "Excellent." "A nice, scary Inspector from Scotland Yard who can put in a few calls might come in very handy," I said. John goes to the bar and bangs the bell. "Shop!" "Happy to help!" said Lestrade. He breaks into a grin. "I will need your brother's ID back, though."

The landlord and his husband, Gary and Billy, are sitting at a table opposite of Lestrade. Lestrade's looking through some photocopied papers. John and I were standing beside a wall watching the scene. Sherlock is, rather surprisingly, making coffee again. Sherlock thrusts the mug at John. "What's this?" John asks. "Coffee. I made coffee." "You never make coffee," I pointed out. "I just did. Do you want it, John?" "Look, you don't have to keep saying sorry ..." Sherlock gives John the puppy eyes. Reluctantly, John takes a big swig and pulls a face. "I don't take -" Sherlock's face falls. "It's good. Nice, yeah," said John. He drinks more. Lestrade puts down the files, looks sternly at Gary and Billy. "These records go back nearly two months. Was that when you had the idea? After the TV show went out?"

Billy panics. "It's me. It was me. Sorry, Gary, I couldn't help it. I had a bacon sandwich at Cal's wedding and one thing led to another." "Nice try," Lestrade said. Gary and Billy look at each other. Gary sighs, defeated. "We were just trying to give things a boost, you know. Let a great big dog run wild on the moor. It was heaven sent. Like having our own Loch Ness monster." "Where do you keep it?" Lestrade asks. "There's an old mine shaft. Not far off. He was alright there," Gary said. "Was?" I asked. "We couldn't control the bloody thing. It was vicious. So Billy took it to the vet's about a month ago to ... you know ..." "It's dead?" John questions. "Put down," said Gary. Billy shrugs. "Yeah. No choice. So - it's over." "It was just a joke, you know -" Lestrade glares at them. "Hilarious. You've nearly driven a man out of his mind." Gary and Billy look suitably shame-faced.

I emerged out of the pub with Lestrade while John and Sherlock kept talking inside. "You do know he's actually pleased you're here? Secretly pleased," I told Lestrade. "Is he? That's nice. I suppose he likes having all the same faces back together. It appeals to his ... his -" "Asperger's?" I guessed. Sherlock and John emerge from the pub. "You believe them? About having the dog destroyed?" John asks. "No reason not to," said Sherlock. "Well, hopefully no harm done. I'm not quite sure what I'd charge them with anyway. I'll have a word with the local force. That's that, then. Catch you later. I'm enjoying this! Nice to get London out of your lungs!" Lestrade says brightly at us. Lestrade walks off. "So their dog is what people saw? Out there on the moor?" John asks Sherlock. "Looks like it," said Sherlock. "But that's not what you saw. That wasn't just an ordinary dog," I said. "No. It was immense. With burning red eyes. And it was glowing, Lune. Its whole body. Glowing." Sherlock shakes his head as if to clear it. "I've got a theory. But we need to get back into Baskerville to test it." "How? You can't pull off the ID trick again," said John. "Maybe I won't have to." Sherlock takes out his phone and speed dials. "Hello, brother dear. How are you?" asked Sherlock oozing charm.

As we neared the land rover, I pulled Sherlock aside. "Did you drug John? That's not what you do after you apologize to them," I said. "It's for an experiment, Lune." He sees the worry on my face. "Don't worry. I'm not making John doing anything remotely dangerous." "But you gave John a hallucinogenic drug," I said. "If John reacts the way I think how I'm seeing the hound, then we'll know how Henry and I saw the hound," said Sherlock. I only nod my head as we get into the land rover.