Holmes & the Blackmailer Ch. 02

'Watson, do come on!'

My friend's voice shook me from my reverie and I realised that I was actually stood stationary in the middle of the room, my mouth open in shock. He was stood, perfectly poised, at the foot of the wooden staircase, one foot on the first step. I regained myself and went to join him.

'Mind that you have one hand upon your wallet and the other on the butt of your pistol, we are going into the very middle of this web of debauchery dear friend.'

And with that, he leapt up the stairs, and I followed in his wake. He moved quickly to the fourth door of the dark corridor and without hesitation burst through it and I was close at his heels. Despite having experienced the scene in the lounge the scene in the squalid, ill-lit room, was possibly more sordid. In the middle of the room was an old examination table not unlike the one I had in my own consulting room. On the table, lying on her back with her legs in birthing stirrups, was a young lady of the type my friend had engaged in conversation previously that evening. Her genitals were not in view however as a man was hunched over on a stool between her legs, the movement of his shoulders telling us that he was doing something with his hands. Sat to one side, drinking from a bottle of cheap gin and smoking a cigar, was one of the most hideous examples of the female race I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. At the sound of the door opening the man swung round to face my friend with a stream of the most unpleasant and foul oaths. On seeing my friend he immediately grasped at a large and wicked looking knife on his tray of instruments and rose to brandish it. In a blur of movement my friend spun his cane, the silver handle catching the man's wrist and wrenching it so that the knife clattered to the floor. Continuing the movement and taking one step towards him, Holmes then twisted the man's arm behind his back and turned his face to the wall. All this happened in the time it had taken me to draw my pistol.

The displeasing woman was slower to react due to her alcoholic state and rose with a similar vile outpouring of gutter language but I stood between her and my friend and a sharp stare and a brandish of my service weapon quickly dissuaded her from interfering. Homes, without looking at her, spoke sharply.

'Madam, go downstairs and join your fellow citizens in the lounge before I am forced to call the assistance of a constable.'

She, rather sheepishly, obeyed by friends command.

'Watson, please see to the young lady. Please make her decent and help her downstairs and advise the owner of this establishment to treat her the same as the other young lady whom I brought in.'

'Certainly Holmes, but will you be alright here on your own.'

'Without doubt Watson, I don't think Mr Fletcher here will attempt to do anymore harm to me now.'

I moved to the examination table and pulled the young lady's dress down over her exposed vagina. Her pubic hair had been shaved completely smooth like that of Miss Torrington but the one ring that had thus far been inserted into her labium was of a much coarser manufacture than the fine rings that adorned the lovelier body of the graceful young lady that we were on a mission to help. The young woman was very drunk, presumably as a form of pain relief during the vile procedure so I had to exert considerable effort to get her safely down the stairs and through to the landladies' small kitchen, where our original young lady was already hungrily consuming a hearty meal. The landlady, despite the type of establishment that she ran, was good to her word and the meal that she had provided was of surprising quality. I relayed my friend's instructions and passed back into the lounge. There was now a group of three dancers on the stage doing a naked rendition of the dance made notorious by the Parisian dancers of the Moulin Rouge and the famous politician was now nowhere to be seen, although a burning cigar in the ashtray next to his place at the card table suggested that he had perhaps only left for a short time, perhaps for some carnal interlude. I was about to make my way to the stairs when my friend descended in his rapid fashion and, without pausing, walked passed my as I turned to follow.

'Come Watson, we have plans to make and telegrams to dispatch before morning. Everything is now clear to me and, with some skilful manipulation and a little luck we will be able to settle this whole sorry matter before lunch time tomorrow. I suggest that you sleep in your old room tonight for you have an early errand in the morning, I would trust no-one else with the care of the lovely Miss Torrington.'

And with that we left the den of vice and strode out into the street to look for a hansom back to Baker Street. Holmes was in excellent spirits on the journey, humming one of his favourite violin movements, while I realised with shame that I was relishing the fact that I would be meeting Miss Torrington again tomorrow morning.