Author: R.

The Case of the Amber Rose of the Amazon – Part 36

“You have them” toned Sir Grant

Holmes laid the letters out before the 1st VP. As he reached for them Holmes raised a hand.

“Our original contract needs renegotiation”

Grant pulled back and flown.

“Oh you misunderstand my purpose, Not one pound more that we agreed do I ask. What has changed is Mr. Adams knows the full importance of these missives

Adams looked sadly at Mr. Grant, but forceful all the same.

“I believe an early retirement is in order,” sign the 1st vp sliding an envelop towards the detective.

“To the ship?”

“No we have a final visit.”

Time Away

I prefer not to think of physical therapy as taking time away from being able to meet my deadlines at work.
Instead, I consider appointments at the rehabilitation center to be an opportunity not to worry about deadlines.
The problem with thinking this way is that it’s the pain of the stretching and pulling by the therapist which distracts me from the work deadlines.
In a perfect world, I’d be healthy and have all my time available to get my work done.
I close my eyes, forget about the project due Friday, and let the therapist twist my shoulder again.

The Case of the Amber Rose of the Amazon – Part 35

Mr. Adams and Mr. Holmes, I will ring Sir Grant at once.”

A sleepy, but functioning Grant appraised the new dynamic before him. Nearly invisible Watson observer how much this man resemble Mycroft. Perhaps life in clubs rounded the edge of personality to the point the difference between the chair and member was of little difference.

This was the sort of man Holmes despised and at the same time the sort of man that at a drop of a hat would paddle down the Amazon to clear their name. Just one of the nearly infinite paradoxes that swirled around Holmes.

The Bank Of Love

Let’s go to the Bank Of Love and open an account together.
Yes, there’s a penalty for early withdrawal. Over time, most people lose interest.
There are no truly safe deposit boxes. Every love is a risk. Take your chances.
I know a guy who tried to rob the Bank Of Love.
“Put all the love in the bag,” he commanded, pointing a gun at the teller.
The teller filled the bag with love, handed it to the guy, and he peeked inside of it…
Empty.
“Fill it again,” he said.
She did.
Empty again.
You just can’t steal love.

The Case of the Amber Rose of the Amazon – Part 34

The doctor handed Holmes both items then the detective handed the undergarment to Adams who’s face ware the signs of a man who had traveled halfway to some truth, but feared the arrive.

“To Mr. Grant,” said Sherlock already halfway down the stairs.

“What of the bodies,” cried the doctor moving after him with Adams in tow?

The three crossed in front of the Ford mansion then down the street to the Bachelor’s Club. In spite of the hour or more precisely because of the hour a middle aged man with retainer class written deep in his eyes meet them

Tink

Tinkerbell flew around the dinner table of the Lost Boys, trailing her pixie dust and laughing.
But none of the boys raised their heads to laugh along. All just moaned and held their aching bellies.
Tinkerbell landed on the table and walked from boy to boy.
Red flushed faces.
Never-food vomiting.
Sunken eyes.
Bleeding sores.
Thinning hair.
Even her beloved Peter was looking haggard, unable to raise himself to crow.
One by one, the Lost Boys died of radiation sickness, not that Tinkerbell ever figured that out.
She flew away, trailing her sparkling deadly Radium trail… I mean pixie dust.

The Case of the Amber Rose of the Amazon – Part 33

Holmes had gambled that one of these women if spooked would fire their gun. It was up to Watson to remove the one who flinched. So it was both women now lay on the floor.

“To your earlier question Mrs. Brown dispatch the Turk.”

“Devil take that woman.”

“I’m sure he has.”

“How can I repay you?”

“Your connections on the continent will aid us in the next episode of this adventure. Come with us to Paris.”

“I am your man.”

“Watson the letters and garment kindly.”

The doctor noted it was he who picked the pockets of the dead

Here

Tracey isn’t here.
She’s never here.
If you’re anywhere that anybody thinks of as “here” then Tracey’s not there.
I mean here.
Where is she?
Oh, here and there… I mean there… just there.
Sorry. If you’re confused, well, I am too. If Tracey were here, she’d explain it better than I can. But then, Tracey is never here.
So, where is she?
I have no idea.
Last time I talked to her, she was on a bus. I asked her where she was, and she said I’m right here at-“
And the phone call dropped.
Yeah, I’m worried too.

The Amber Rose Of The Amazon – Part 32

As hoped Mrs. Kane adjusted her weight to track his motions, then a shoe brushing the floor always to the right. The good doctor ramrod military straight hadn’t moved a muscle. Holmes raised his cane causing Mrs. Brown to change her target; behind him he heard no readjustment.

In a swift single move Holmes dropped rolled and smashed the cane to the floor producing an echoing crack. This noise was follow with a louder crack and then a final crack.

As hoped Watson realized Holmes had placed himself exactly between the women. Neither woman knew the gun trained on them.