980. Chapter 980

After Once Upon a Time in the West

Episode 7.07

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: This is cattle country, sheepherder and…Wait! That's wrong. Um, I own neither cattle nor Castle. Rating: K Time: See above.

Kate Holmes, the world's first and best female consulting detective, in fact the best consulting detective there was, ran down the dirty alley way in London's East End, following her elusive prey. At last she saw him, Professor Demming Moriarty. She had cornered him! His back was now to the Thames and she knew that the professor, being extremely fastidious, would never jump into the river, which was little more than a vast open sewer.

"I have you now Professor Moriarty. Surrender." Kate reached beneath her skirt to draw the .38 Webley revolver she had strapped to her ankle. Moriarty, upon seeing the most beautiful female legs he had ever seen, indeed, the most beautiful female legs ever, nearly swooned. However, his years of training as a super villain came to his rescue and he drew himself up to his not very impressive height of five feet nothing. Placing his hand on his enormous belly he said, in a squeaky voice, "You'll never take me, Holmes. I'm too smart for you." Then he whipped out a rope from behind his back, tied it to a dockside bollard and swung down into the river.

Gasping at his audacity, Kate ran to the river bank and looked down. Moriarty had a boat there and was even now speeding away from the long arms of the law. And as Moriarty observed, away from the long and perfect legs of the law.

Kate whirled around when she heard someone coming down the alley towards the Thames. She braced herself for action, but relaxed when she saw it was only PC Kevin Ryan, a doughty Irish constable and one of the few people in all of the Metropolitan Police she could count on to do things right. Mostly.

"Sorry, ma'am." He said. "I climbed up on a crate so's I could hear the rascal better and when you burst in upon the swine, I fell off and hurt me leg. I'm so sorry, ma'am."

"That's all right. Ryan." Kate said, comforting the distraught son of the Olde Sod. "Did you hear anything?"

"Yes, ma'am." 'E was bragging to his dolly that he had hired the most dangerous man in Europe to assist him in his latest villainy."

"Aha! We shall interrogate this young lady at once. Doubtlessly a woman of the streets, lured to the vile creature with promises of money."

"No, ma'am. I mean a real dolly. The blow up kind, what you can get for three shillings from a shop just off the Strand." The husky Hibernian blushed. "Or so I have been told in the course of me police work, ma'am."

"The course of true love never did run smooth." Kate quoted.

"Pardon, ma'am?"

"Nothing. I just have been looking for a quote from the Bard to use when I reach a certain point in the case."

"I see." Said Ryan, although he did not, in fact, see.

Kate made her way home to her lodgings at 221A Baker Street. Upon going inside to the landing, the door to her landlady's flat opened. The landlady, Mrs. Victoria Hudson smiled at her.

"Did you get the swine, dear?"

Kate shook her head sadly. "He got away, I'm afraid."

"Dear me. I'll bring you up a nice cup of tea. You'll feel better. As Mr. Hudson always used to say, "They don't call biscuits cookies in America because walnuts grow on trolley cars, you know.""

Kate shook her head. "Mrs. Hudson, I have the finest deductive mind on the planet and that makes no sense."

"Oh, I never said it made sense. I just said that Mr. Hudson used to say it all the time. He said it right up until he ran away with our maid, Jacinda. Good riddance, I say."

Kate had tracked down Mr. Hudson one day when she had a free half hour. He had relocated to America where he had gone into partnership with his former maid making some sort of cooked sandwiches called Big Jacs. Kate thought they were a bit before their time. And she felt Mrs. Hudson was better off without both Mr. Hudson and Jacinda.

Once in her flat, Kate took off her shoes and her revolver and sat. In minutes Mrs. Hudson came in with a pot of tea, a cup and a plate of biscuits. "This will make you feel better, dear. But what would really make you feel better would be to have a husband."

Kate sighed. She had had this conversation with Mrs. Hudson many times before. "Thank you for the advice, Mrs. Hudson, but as we both know, men, even in our so-called enlightened age, prefer a woman with no brains at all. And if a woman has brains she had better not show them. I have no intention of disguising my intellectual abilities just to secure some man."

Mrs. Hudson also sighed. She had had this conversation with Kate Holmes many times before. "Enjoy your tea, dear. "She said and left.

Kate went to her desk and wrote down the names of the most dangerous men in Europe. After a great deal of thought she drew lines through the names of the crowned heads and politicians of Europe. This gave her a much smaller list.

Going to a stack of blank telegraph forms, she wrote out inquiries on her remaining suspects. She looked around. "Now where is the head of the Baker Street Irregulars?"

There was a tapping at her window. Opening it, a ragged, filthy young lad fell onto her carpet.

"Perlmutter! How did you get there?"

"I lives on the window sill so's that I'll be handy when you need me, ma'am."

"But the sill is only five inches wide."

"I know. I've fallen on an average of six times a day for the three years I've been there. It's done me no harm, though." Perlmutter suddenly shook himself. "Is that the doorbell?"

"Perlmutter, will you take these forms to the telegraph office and see to it that they're sent."

"Right on it." Perlmutter said as he went out the window and plummeted to the ground.

The next day, the answers to her telegrams were received. Kate opened the first one and found that the murderous Pierre Vaughn had been sent to Devil's Island. During an escape attempt, he had had an unfortunate encounter with a crocodile had ended with the crocodile tearing off Vaughn's arms, legs and one other appendage. The ever thrifty French had since used him as a paperweight in the warden's office and assured Kate he was still there.

Next was a telegrammed response concerning that Russian criminal mastermind, Kolinsky Huntsky. He had been exiled to a prison camp in Siberia. In spite of what the Russian government called its "outstanding efforts to rehabilitate men like Huntsky", he had somehow been left out overnight and had frozen solid. Luckily for the authorities in Siberia, Huntsky had frozen with one arm upraised and pointing so they were able to use him as a signpost showing the direction to Yakutsk.

Lastly, a telegram from Australia stated that the infamous Franco-Irish political assassin, Jerry Thibodeau-O'Tyson had indeed been transported to Australia and had promptly escaped. He had begun cohabitating with a winsome young kangaroo and all was well until Mr. Kangaroo returned home and proceeded to punch Thibodeau-O'Tyson silly. Then, what the authorities Down Under referred to as a bunch of "damned Pommybastard tourists", had seen the match and decided to turn it into a daily spectacle for the paying public. They said that after one hundred and ten fights, Thibodeau-O'Tyson now wandered the streets of Sydney muttering, "I'm a little teapot, short and stout, here is my handle, here is my spout." He would point to his "spout", much to the chagrin of young ladies, as it was a very small spout.

Kate sighed. There was only one person left and she would have to confront him in his lair. She stood up, straightened her shoulders and began packing for the trip.

Early the next day Kate stepped down from the train in the County of Kent and at once engaged a hansom cab and gave the driver her destination. Upon arriving at a prototypical English country house, she alit and marched steadfastly to the door. Upon knocking, the door was answered by an English butler.

"Yes, ma'am?" He enquired. "May I help you?"

"I'm Kate Holmes the world's first and best consulting detective and I'm here to see the man who calls himself Doctor Richard Watson."

The butler said nothing but his face spoke volumes about his thoughts of a beautiful young woman who would call on the home of a man, with neither an invitation or a chaperone with her. "This way….Miss."

As she walked through the well appointed house, she heard the sound of gunfire from outside. Her hand slid to the .32 caliber Colt New Police revolver that nestled in her purse. However, when she reached the back of the house and was led by the butler to the back garden, she saw that her quarry was merely practicing with his weapons. And he had company.

"Sir, there is a….lady to see you." The butler said.

Kate knew what he was like from the descriptions she had read. The effect of seeing him in person was far different from just reading about him. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a slim waist. His eyes were blue and his hair was dark brown and flopped down over his forehead. He was dressed in a well cut, bespoke suit. She did notice that he had Colt Bisley revolver in his hand and a Colt Single Action Army revolver in a holster at his belt, both in .44 caliber.

Kate stepped forward. "Sir, I am Kate Holmes, the world's foremost consulting detective. You are called Richard Watson, I believe."

He nodded and smiled at her. "Doctor Rick Watson is what most people call me, or just plain Doc. Allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Alexis. Alexis, this is the famous Kate Holmes."

"I'm so pleased to meet you, Miss Holmes. I've heard so much of your adventures. You should have someone write them down so that all could enjoy them."

Alexis was a tall, slender young lady with fiery red hair. As was her father, Miss Alexis was impeccably turned out, although the pistol at her belt was not an accessory that any young English lady would have had. Kate instantly identified it as a Colt Model 1892 chambered for the .38 caliber Long Colt round.

Watson introduced the other gentleman, now standing by Alexis. "This is Alexis' betrothed, Mr. Ashley Linden."

Mr. Linden was dressed nicely in a grey suit and wore a wide brimmed hat with the brim turned up on the left and turned down on the right, giving him a rather rakish air. At his right hip was a Smith and Wesson .44, Model 3 with another in a shoulder rig over his left shoulder. He tipped his hat. "Pleased to meet you, Ma'am."

Kate knew that the young man was far better known as Ashley the Kid in the western states of America. But she smiled at him. Then she turned to Watson. "Watson is not the name you were born with, is it? You were born Richard Rodgers in the American state of Texas. There as a young man, you became involved with a woman who sang in a saloon…."

"I was married to Meredith, Miss Holmes, and Alexis is my daughter by her. But Meredith wanted me to take her East so she could sing in New York. To tell the truth. She had a terrible singing voice so I refused. She got mad and set "Dirty Tom" Demming on me. He tried to shoot me but I shot and killed him. It was self defense."

"In England we do not shoot men down in the streets." Kate sneered.

"I've noticed that and have scrupulously avoided shooting anyone down in England. On the streets or elsewhere." Watson said with a smile.