The Case of the Maze Gardener ch3
Title:The Case of the Maze Gardener ch3
Rating: G
Word Count: 1204
Summary: While on a case in west England, Holmes and Watson find that almost nothing is as it seems.
Warnings: umm....none...
I awoke to the train lurching to a halt in the station around six in the evening. "Watson! Come, we do not have the time for you to doze on the case!" as I had just woken up, I was not in the best of moods to be dealing with one of Holmes' playful moods.
“Well, really old boy, if you had woken me up, I wouldn't have been in repose!" I hefted my bag from the top rack, grunting as I was required to place strain on my wounded leg, and opened the door, "The blame seems to be entirely with you!" with that parting shot, I left our compartment and made for the station platform. I, by that point, was still half asleep and remained that way, even as I was hastened into a dogcart on the corner driven by a servant of Mrs. Jacobson. He was a man of, at most, forty with still-dark hair and shadow rimmed eyes.
"Is the disappearance is effecting the whole house hold?" I asked him, Joshua, as I inspected him for signs of fever brought on by the exhaustion( which, thankfully, there was none). Holmes, at that time, seemed busy with other items.
Other items, of course, being nothing at all.
"The entire house feels it sir!" Joshua ran his hand through his hair, "From the maids to the mother, we all love James!" Holmes' head swerved to attain a decent look at our driver.
"Is driver your only position of employment with the family?"
"No sir,"
"And what would the others be?"
"I work under Mr. Jason, who maintains the maze, sir." Holmes and I shared a glance, and, for once, I was on par with my friend.
"The maze has been searched, correct?" I felt compelled to ask.
"The search was still on when I left to collect yourselves. The maze has many hidden spots, sir, but we're sure James wouldn't go in alone."
"And why is that?" Holmes asked, leaning towards Joshua.
"He's afraid of the maze, Mr. Holmes. He'd gotten lost once, two years ago, and won't go in without his mother holding his hand." It was then we saw the mansion estate of the Jacobson family. It was a dilapidated building with high, chipped torrents and rotting wood frames looming over acres of unkempt land.
"Has Mrs. Jacobson fallen on hard times?" I asked the driver, wondering why such beautiful lands were allowed to go to waste.
"Oh, no sir," he responded, pulling the horse to a stop in front of a foot man, "Jacobson house has always been in this state, but no one in the family has ever had enough money to restore it."
"Yet there's enough to maintain a maze?" I asked.
"We're not paid to keep the maze, Doctor, it's a bit of a hobby for the staff." we were assisted from the carriage and our bags taken to our rooms for the stay as we were lead to the parlor room.
"Joshua," Holmes was already flitting around the room as he asked the question, "Assemble the staff here, and have them wait as I examine the child's room." Joshua obeyed at once, putting down a tumbler of bandy to lead Holmes to the bed room. I rose as well, as I had seated myself to rest my leg, only to be waved off by Holmes. "Stay here, Watson," he told me in a rather sing-song voice, "and guard the servants. If they haven't already put a story together, we do not wan them assembling one now." Holmes swirled from the room before I could agree or disagree, leaving me to await the arrival of the others.
It was ten minutes before Joshua returned with the servants filtering in behind him. They were few in number, as the household was not a rich one. A cook, four maids, three gardeners(including Joshua), a butler, a footman, and two stable boys. "Holmes will be back soon to question you," I told them when the last person entered, "for now, please do not speak to one another. Holmes does not wish for your statements to be altered by others.” they nodded and sat quietly for the detective to appear, and appear he did.
Four hours later.
The first two hours I understood, as Holmes would inspect everything down to the dust-bunnies. At three hours, my patients started to ware thin for my friend. Holmes rarely inspected a room for three hours unless he had a clue to follow, and then he would return for his ’Boswell’.
Just as the servants were becoming difficult to keep silent, Holmes burst through the door a little dusty, but there was no sign he had been outside. "You seem to have things well under control, Watson!" he exclaimed, brushing the dust from his sleeves. "Joshua," Holmes spun to face the gardener, "when will the inspector return?
"Around two o‘clock, sir," said he, "He's bringing his own constables to search the maze." remembering the words that Inspector Jefferson had reportedly said to Mrs. Jacobson reawakened my temper, which prompted me to spout;
"Only compelling us to work harder once they get lost in the hedges."
"That was quite rude, Watson," there was a grin on his features as he parroted my own words back at me. My response was to glare at him from my seat near the mantle. "You," Holmes said as he pointed to one of the maids, "follow me! There are quite a few questions for you to answer." then he turned to me with a slightly chastised look on his face, "I must ask you Watson to remain behind again." I would have been amused had I not been abandoned for four hours, but, instead, I frowned, but nodded and retook my seat to watch the group again. They perched themselves in different corners of the room with their eyes locked on the door Holmes had left through. From that point on, Holmes returned every half hour to collect another witness.
When that was finally done, the hour was 7:30 of the next morning. I was nearly comatose with exhaustion and perfectly ready to slumber in the very chair I had sat in for almost eight hours. Joshua had slumped to sleep in a corner two hours prior awaiting orders from Holmes. When my friend did emerge from the impromptu interrogation room, he look haggard as well. I recalled that he had refused breakfast that morning and, unless he had eaten while I had slept(doubtful at most), the last time food had been in Holmes' body would have been two days ere.
"Awaken Joshua," I did as Holmes had asked and we were led to our rooms for the night. I then asked the coachman if he could have the maids bring two breakfast trays in a few hours. "None for me,” my friend mumbled.
"Holmes," I sighed, agitated.
"How about lunch at one, dear fellow? That sounds more appetizing to me." Nodding, as I was far too groggy to actually compile an opinion, I shouldered open the door and trekked straight towards the bed, taking off my coat and collar, but nothing else, before collapsing into a deep sleep.
Rating: G
Word Count: 1204
Summary: While on a case in west England, Holmes and Watson find that almost nothing is as it seems.
Warnings: umm....none...
I awoke to the train lurching to a halt in the station around six in the evening. "Watson! Come, we do not have the time for you to doze on the case!" as I had just woken up, I was not in the best of moods to be dealing with one of Holmes' playful moods.
“Well, really old boy, if you had woken me up, I wouldn't have been in repose!" I hefted my bag from the top rack, grunting as I was required to place strain on my wounded leg, and opened the door, "The blame seems to be entirely with you!" with that parting shot, I left our compartment and made for the station platform. I, by that point, was still half asleep and remained that way, even as I was hastened into a dogcart on the corner driven by a servant of Mrs. Jacobson. He was a man of, at most, forty with still-dark hair and shadow rimmed eyes.
"Is the disappearance is effecting the whole house hold?" I asked him, Joshua, as I inspected him for signs of fever brought on by the exhaustion( which, thankfully, there was none). Holmes, at that time, seemed busy with other items.
Other items, of course, being nothing at all.
"The entire house feels it sir!" Joshua ran his hand through his hair, "From the maids to the mother, we all love James!" Holmes' head swerved to attain a decent look at our driver.
"Is driver your only position of employment with the family?"
"No sir,"
"And what would the others be?"
"I work under Mr. Jason, who maintains the maze, sir." Holmes and I shared a glance, and, for once, I was on par with my friend.
"The maze has been searched, correct?" I felt compelled to ask.
"The search was still on when I left to collect yourselves. The maze has many hidden spots, sir, but we're sure James wouldn't go in alone."
"And why is that?" Holmes asked, leaning towards Joshua.
"He's afraid of the maze, Mr. Holmes. He'd gotten lost once, two years ago, and won't go in without his mother holding his hand." It was then we saw the mansion estate of the Jacobson family. It was a dilapidated building with high, chipped torrents and rotting wood frames looming over acres of unkempt land.
"Has Mrs. Jacobson fallen on hard times?" I asked the driver, wondering why such beautiful lands were allowed to go to waste.
"Oh, no sir," he responded, pulling the horse to a stop in front of a foot man, "Jacobson house has always been in this state, but no one in the family has ever had enough money to restore it."
"Yet there's enough to maintain a maze?" I asked.
"We're not paid to keep the maze, Doctor, it's a bit of a hobby for the staff." we were assisted from the carriage and our bags taken to our rooms for the stay as we were lead to the parlor room.
"Joshua," Holmes was already flitting around the room as he asked the question, "Assemble the staff here, and have them wait as I examine the child's room." Joshua obeyed at once, putting down a tumbler of bandy to lead Holmes to the bed room. I rose as well, as I had seated myself to rest my leg, only to be waved off by Holmes. "Stay here, Watson," he told me in a rather sing-song voice, "and guard the servants. If they haven't already put a story together, we do not wan them assembling one now." Holmes swirled from the room before I could agree or disagree, leaving me to await the arrival of the others.
It was ten minutes before Joshua returned with the servants filtering in behind him. They were few in number, as the household was not a rich one. A cook, four maids, three gardeners(including Joshua), a butler, a footman, and two stable boys. "Holmes will be back soon to question you," I told them when the last person entered, "for now, please do not speak to one another. Holmes does not wish for your statements to be altered by others.” they nodded and sat quietly for the detective to appear, and appear he did.
Four hours later.
The first two hours I understood, as Holmes would inspect everything down to the dust-bunnies. At three hours, my patients started to ware thin for my friend. Holmes rarely inspected a room for three hours unless he had a clue to follow, and then he would return for his ’Boswell’.
Just as the servants were becoming difficult to keep silent, Holmes burst through the door a little dusty, but there was no sign he had been outside. "You seem to have things well under control, Watson!" he exclaimed, brushing the dust from his sleeves. "Joshua," Holmes spun to face the gardener, "when will the inspector return?
"Around two o‘clock, sir," said he, "He's bringing his own constables to search the maze." remembering the words that Inspector Jefferson had reportedly said to Mrs. Jacobson reawakened my temper, which prompted me to spout;
"Only compelling us to work harder once they get lost in the hedges."
"That was quite rude, Watson," there was a grin on his features as he parroted my own words back at me. My response was to glare at him from my seat near the mantle. "You," Holmes said as he pointed to one of the maids, "follow me! There are quite a few questions for you to answer." then he turned to me with a slightly chastised look on his face, "I must ask you Watson to remain behind again." I would have been amused had I not been abandoned for four hours, but, instead, I frowned, but nodded and retook my seat to watch the group again. They perched themselves in different corners of the room with their eyes locked on the door Holmes had left through. From that point on, Holmes returned every half hour to collect another witness.
When that was finally done, the hour was 7:30 of the next morning. I was nearly comatose with exhaustion and perfectly ready to slumber in the very chair I had sat in for almost eight hours. Joshua had slumped to sleep in a corner two hours prior awaiting orders from Holmes. When my friend did emerge from the impromptu interrogation room, he look haggard as well. I recalled that he had refused breakfast that morning and, unless he had eaten while I had slept(doubtful at most), the last time food had been in Holmes' body would have been two days ere.
"Awaken Joshua," I did as Holmes had asked and we were led to our rooms for the night. I then asked the coachman if he could have the maids bring two breakfast trays in a few hours. "None for me,” my friend mumbled.
"Holmes," I sighed, agitated.
"How about lunch at one, dear fellow? That sounds more appetizing to me." Nodding, as I was far too groggy to actually compile an opinion, I shouldered open the door and trekked straight towards the bed, taking off my coat and collar, but nothing else, before collapsing into a deep sleep.