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Paper Chase	By : varenoea Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes > Slash > Slash Views: 3925 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Chapter List
- 1-Paper Chase
- 2-Ch 2
- 3-ch 3
- 4-Ch 4
- 5-Ch 5
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- 4
The elephant house was huge. Where should I start looking? The only reasonable idea was to start at the entrance. My admirer must have considered that I could only begin there. She wanted me to find her next message, after all.

Looking straight forward, I saw a low wall, and above it an iron grate up to the ceiling, with the elephants behind it. Even the elephants looked a little sleepy at this time of morning.

“Hello”, I said and leaned against the handrail. One elephant opened an eye and looked at me, then slowly closed his eye again. “I wish you could talk. I just want to know what she looks like.”

The tip of a trunk came through the grate and began to sniff me.

“I’m so sorry, I haven’t brought you anything”, I said and laughed. Meanwhile, I looked to both sides. The house was pretty empty – there was only the wall with the grate, a few benches, and the handrail. Of course I could just have searched everything, looked at all the benches closely, and see if anything was hidden in the handrail. But to search the whole room would have taken hours, and I had to get to work – to say nothing of the embarrassment if somebody was watching me.

On the far right, there was a keeper sweeping hay off the floor, but he was not paying me any attention.

What would Holmes do? Probably sit down and think, first of all.

I sat down, and thought. There were about a hundred places where you could hide a message in this room. It had probably not been given to one of the keepers, because they had changing shifts, and the message needed to be there when I came by. And it was quite impossible that one of the elephants had concealed the letter about its… person.

But it said “To th’ Elephant”, and this was the only information I had. If my mystery lady knew what she was doing, this was also the only information I was going to need. The Elephant, with a capital E, and only one elephant. If “the Elephant” meant a pub or a similar kind of place, the name would not be enough to help me find a single piece of paper. No, “the Elephant” had to be a very unmistakable place.

There were six elephants in this house. Which one would be capitalized, and why?

I went back to the grate and looked at the elephants for a little longer. Then it suddenly struck me. Capitalized meant large and important, and unmistakable. There was one large and unmistakable male in the cage, called Jumbo, who was a darling of the public, and as far as my knowledge went, the largest elephant in captivity.

I thought I saw him lying in the background of the cage, apparently still sleepy. I could not go to him, of course, but there was a brass sign attached to the low wall on the left, which gave the visitors some information about his age, height, and traits of character. The headline said “Jumbo” in big, unmistakable letters.

I looked at the keeper from the corner of my eye, as I was about to do something silly. But he seemed to be busy with the floor. So I walked up to the brass sign and knocked my knuckles lightly against it. It sounded hollow, there had to be a space behind it. But from above, I could not see anything suspicious.

I looked at the keeper again, and then quickly knelt down and looked at the sides and the bottom. And sure enough, there was a tiny bit of paper hanging out at the bottom of the sign, so small that you could only see it from below. I carefully took it between my fingers and started to tug. I had to pull quite gently, because the paper was jammed between the brass and the rough stone wall behind it, and I did not want to tear it.

When I had finally eased it free and unfolded it, my heartbeat began to increase, and I could feel my ears warm up again. It was the familiar handwriting of my mystery lady.

I looked up, and saw the keeper staring at me.

I cracked a smile of embarrassment and quickly left the elephant house. Outside, I fell onto a bench in the sunshine. Not bad, Watson, not bad at all. I had often seen Holmes go into a feverish rush over a case, but only now could I understand how he felt.

With the ruffled piece of paper safely tucked away in my pocket, I went to work.

Over supper, I could not help but pull the new letter out of my pocket and wave it.

”You see, Holmes”, I said. “The numbers were not too difficult for me. I found the next letter.”

Holmes pulled a sour face. “It’s not a sign of good character to show me your progress, but not your clues.”

I choked on my food. It was quite some time before I could talk again, and then I decided that it would be wise to say nothing at all.

Holmes violently bit off a piece of bread and chewed it with the energy of a steam engine.

“Don’t worry, you’re not missing out on much”, I comforted him. “Her riddles are much too easy for you. I don’t mean to brag, but they are actually a bit too easy for me.”

“How’s that possible?” he asked, and looked genuinely surprised.

I smiled serenely and counted to ten in my head. Then I said: “Do I detect a little jealousy in you, or in the way that you’re trying to insult me?”

“No, no, I don’t want to insult you, it’s just…”

“Can’t you be happy for me? I’m just having my fun.”

“Hm.” He began to chew his lip. Then he said: “I want to be honest with you. I don’t like how emotionally involved you are getting with this affair. You’re even using a new razor blade even though your old one wasn’t even four days old – no, don’t contradict me, you know better than that – and you’re constantly smiling when you think nobody is looking. You seem to take the whole thing seriously!”

I laughed. “And where’s the harm in that?”

“I’m just trying to save you from disappointment. How likely is it that your mystery lady’s looks are even to your liking?”

“I’ll see. And besides, looks are not the only feature that makes a woman interesting.”

“I think your expectations are too high.”

“Leave my expectations to me”, I said and smiled. Holmes didn’t say another word.

I spent the evening alone in my room and tried to make sense of my latest love letter.

My wonderfully astute beloved,

you have made it this far, and I have no doubts that you are also going to solve the last two conundrums I have placed for you – and I promise, I will not string you along any further after this. The next letter you find gives you a place, and the one after that will give you my name, and the address where you can find me.

So far I have sent you to the saints, and the beasts; now I am going to lead you into temptation. I need a man who will go into a lion’s den to find me. You will have to walk past the flowers and the bees as they go about their business, and the best place to see the bees visit the flowers is a chrysanthemum, at this time of year. But do not worry, you will go in there safely if you know the name of the deadly shades in the night. When you have crossed the lion’s den, you need to find the gold at the bottom of a flower, and there you also find your next letter.

I can hardly wait to see you, to get close enough to smell your skin, to feel your moustache tickle my lips when I kiss you, to draw you into bed and make war with your nightshirt, until I have freed you. Oh, do you know how jealous your nightshirt makes me? The missing button at the top, did you lose it? Or did someone else rip it off in a passionate romp that you should have enjoyed with me, me, me and nobody else?

Do not let me wait too long.

Yours secretly, but no less ardently.

“Wonderful”, I said out loud. “A botany lesson. I just hope she doesn’t expect me to be any good at floriography.”

With a heavy heart I walked back into the living-room.

“Holmes, do we have any books on the language of flowers?”

Holmes looked up. “I shouldn’t think so. But the library must have some books.”

“Do you happen to know what chrysanthemum means?”

He shook his head and looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “How would I know? I never get any bouquets I have to decipher, and I’m grateful for it.”

I looked at my watch and sighed. “Too late to go to the library now. But Ms Hudson might know something… she is a woman, after all.”

“The last time I looked, she was, yes. Not that I looked very closely, but…”

I walked out of the flat, down the stairs and through the corridor to Ms Hudson’s door. Upon my knocking, she opened.

“I’m sorry to disturb you”, I began. “But do you know anything about the language of flowers?”

She smiled incredulously and shook her head. “No. I never had time for this kind of thing.”

“You don’t happen to know what chrysanthemum means?”

“Love? As far as I know, half of all flowers seem to mean love.” She shrugged and watched me with interest. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you need it for?”

“I’m trying to solve a riddle in the Times”, I lied, and continued without much hope: “I’m also looking for gold at the bottom of a flower.”

Ms Hudson smiled. “Saffron. It grows in crocuses, and it’s yellow and very expensive. You don’t get much more golden than that. If you had ever read any cook books, you would know about saffron.”

This answer was the last thing on earth I had expected from her, and it took me a few seconds to overcome my bafflement. Then I thanked her and ran up the stairs again.

“Forget about the language of flowers, Holmes, I think I know what she means!”

“I had already forgotten it before you…” This was all I heard, because I went back into my room and studied my letter again. My lady was not interested in floriography, she stuck with her puns, as she had done before.

The “deadly shades in the night” could only be “deadly nightshade”, i.e., belladonna.

From what I knew now, I had to find an ill-reputed place called “Chrysanthemum”, use “belladonna” as a code word, and find “saffron”.

“Holmes? Do you know a place called Chrysanthemum?”

Holmes gave me a long, strange look. “Yes?”

“How do I get there?” I looked out of the window. Outside, rain was pouring from the sky, but I would be damned if I let this fact keep me inside.

“What on earth do you want there?” asked Holmes slowly.

“Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything that might bring me any embarrassing diseases. I just want to go there and look around.”

“Yes, I can tell you where it is”, he said slowly. “But you have to let me come along.”

“No.”

“It’s not safe. Watson, you don’t even know what a dangerous water London is. There are people in this place who won’t ask if you want to do anything that might get you embarrassing diseases, and worse. There’s a good boy, don’t go there.”

“Just be nice and tell me the place”, I begged. “I don’t need you to protect me. From what I gather, it’s a brothel, and all I need to do is go through and find someone or something called Saffron. Nobody is gong to hit me over the head with a truncheon because of that.”

“No. I’m not helping you with such an insane fool’s errand.” He shook his head. “Especially not when it’s dark.”

“That doesn’t keep me from going. I would be safer with your advice.”

Holmes gave me another one of these long, dark looks. “It is a basement stave, and it has a green lantern over the door. That’s all I’m going to tell you.”

Who was Holmes to tell me that a mystery wasn’t worth the risk?

“If you’re not back in three hours, I’ll feel impelled to go looking for you”, he said before I left.
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Paper Chase