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.

Tickler

Julius Caesar had an assistant who’s job was to whisper “Caesar, thou art mortal” into his ear every so often to remind him to remain humble.
He also had a man whisper “Caesar, thou art ticklish” into his ear to remind him that he was ticklish. Then, that advisor would unleash a fury of tickles that would bring the great dictator to his knees with laughter.
Once, the tickling advisor went too far, and Caesar felt humiliated and violated.
He ordered the man to be executed.
The first advisor probably should have whispered “Tickler, thou art mortal” now and then.

The Amber Rose Of The Amazon – Part 31

“What did Miss Stein pay you for your services?”

“That amount I now will keep in spite of a delay in execution. But its been a pleasure working for the Moriarty family.”

Even at his age Holmes still maintained the ability to slow his pulse and calm any emotional response. Not to say his mind wasn’t racing to very corner of his skull to weight out the danger those two words invoked. The Game had moved from a pleasant distraction to one of dire consequences. Had he known he would have been less caviler.

Slowly he moved to the right.

The Generals

General Clayton was a great soldier, and he earned many medals.
So many medals, in fact, he was unable to pin them all on to his chest.
That’s when he had himself cloned.
With all those additional chests, he could pin the medals on.
Of course, with all those additional General Claytons, they collectively earned even more medals.
More medals, more Generals.
It was an endless loop of generals and medals, until the Army ran out of medals to give to the generals.
Then, they all suddenly died of the same congenital heart defect.
Dammit. Now we need more cemeteries.