The Nutty Detective - Part III - A Craven Danger Mystery

“Mornin’, Betty. Sorry I’m late with the coffee. But I got to thinkin’ about yesterday and how I shouldn’t have thrown them Baker Street Irritaters outta here. It depressed me a little so I sat down in Max’s coffee shop and ate half a dozen jelly donuts to cheer myself up. And now that I’m all cheered up I’m not the least bit sorry or depressed anymore. Those guys were gettin’ on my nerves with all that crikey and blimey stuff. And quotin’ stuff that was never in no Sherlock Holmes story. So, after I ate the donuts, I ordered you a toasted bran muffin and a coffee, light and sweet. I know how ya like to keep regular.”

“Ya shoulda stopped in at the joke shop,” said Betty, ”and got ya self a sense a humor.”

“Hey! I got a sense a humor!”

“All ya had to do yesterday was ta join in the fun. That’s all they was tryin’ ta do. Have fun. But you‘re about as much fun as a bad tooth.”

“I’m am too fun!”

“Okay, Mr. Funster. You have a guest waiting in your office. He came in while you were out bein’ fun with those donuts at the coffee shop.”

“What’s his name?”

“I ain’t sayin’, Mr. Danger. Now go on in there an’ be your fun self.”

As Craven Danger entered his inner office the gentleman in question was pondering a crack in the window.

“I should judge by its length that this crack was the work of the feral pigeon. Not the cleverest of their breed, else they would not have slammed into your window with such force and, as a result, leave their carcass to rot on your very windowsill!”

“Is that what that smell is? I thought it was that mouse I put a couple a slugs in a while back. Never did find the body. What are you some kinda bird-man like the one they got in Alcatraz?”

“The name is Holmes! Sherlock Holmes! It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear man.”

Craven stiffened as the great man himself turned and offered his hand.

Take a deep breath, thought Craven. I’m fun. As fun as they come and I ain’t gonna make no fuss. But if that ain’t Joey, the dry cleaner from across the street, I’ll eat his deerstalker hat. For right now, just go with the flow, Craven. Go with the flow.

“The pleasure is all mine, my good man!” said Craven. “Can I ask what brings you to my humble abode, Mr. Holmes?”

“Humble is a matter of opinion, my dear Mr. Danger. It’s as though chaos itself had declared itself to be an investigator’s office! How ever do you function? You must be a master of your craft to be able to navigate about in the midst of all this squalor.“

I’m as fun as they come, if not funner. I will have fun. I will have fun.

“Yeah, it’s the maid’s day off, Mr. Holmes. I wasn’t expecting such an honored guest as yourself, otherwise I’d a had my secretary do it.”

“Quite all right, Mr. Danger. I’ve been known to leave a trail or two of pipe tobacco scattered about my own flat on Baker Street. But enough of that for now. As to the nature of my unannounced visit, it has come to my attention at this morning’s emergency meeting of the Baker Street Irregulars that you have caused quite the commotion when you tossed my Baker Street boys from this very flat! That, sir, is an outrage! Why, I’d be honored to - as I have done in the past - charge into battle with each and every one of those heroic lads! They are a courageous band of brothers and I should like to defend their honor, sir.”

“Defend their honor?”

“Yes!” said Holmes. “I suggest – no! I demand - a duel! Pistol or sword, sir! Which shall it be?”

“I don’t won’t none a those things!”

“Then you leave me no alternative, sir! Fisticuffs it is! Take your stance, and let the bout begin!“

“Hey! Wait a minute! You’re movin’ too fast on this thing. I ain’t agreed to no fisticuffs!”

“Then I shall be the conqueror! Get ready to defend thyself! The first blow is coming your way!”

“Ouch! My nose!” cried Mr. Holmes. “I certainly didn’t see that one coming! You have quite the wallop, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes,” said Betty.

“Betty?” said Craven. “Where’d you come from?”

“I was right behind ya, Mr. Danger. I gotta whiff of ya cowardly lion perspiration all the way from the next room. I figured ya was gonna need a hand. Then, when I saw ya duck, I made my move. Now, if you'll excuse me, I’ll see if I can get the boys to come and collect their leader. Just see he don’t bleed all over the carpet. Be right back, Mr. Funster.”

“Yeah, sure, Betty. Thanks. See ya later. And by the way, I coulda handled this nut all by myself!”

“Just wanted ta save ya the trouble, Mr. Danger. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay, then, Betty. See ya later.”

“I may have been a bit over zealous, Mr. Danger.” said Holmes. “It’s just that I’m very protective of my Baker Street boys.”

“Never mind that, Holmes. Ya drippin’ blood all over your shirt.”

“It’s quite all right, Mr. Danger. I know of a local dry cleaner that will tend to the dirty work of extracting the blood I have shed in the heat of battle!”

“I’ll gladly pay the cleaning bill, Mr. Holmes.”

“I won’t hear of it, dear sir. As for now, I must rest. Please allow me to stretch out on your settee for a brief spell. I’m feeling quite faint.”

“If ya mean couch,” said Craven. “Sure thing. Stretch away.”

“One more thing, Mr. Danger,” said Mr. Holmes. “A last request. If you have pen and paper at your disposal I’d like to dictate what could be a final bit of correspondence.”

“Whaddaya mean by final?”

“In case I happen to meet my mortal coil this evening, please see that Dr. Watson gets this note.”

“Dr. Watson? How the heck do I get hold of Dr. Watson? Baker street’s a long way from Third Avenue.”

“For Pete’s sake!” said Holmes. “You’re about as much fun as warm beer and stale pretzels. Give the damn note to Max at the coffee shop!”

“Excuse me?” said Craven.

“I mean, see the note gets delivered to Max at his splendid cafe. Max will know best how to communicate with my dear friend and compatriot Dr. Watson.”

“Sure thing, Holmes. I’ll see he gets it. Dictate away.”

“I’ve been preparing for this moment for quite some time, Mr. Danger. I’m a little nervous. The note should read thus:

My dear, Dr. Watson,

It’s a far, far, better thing I do, than I have ever done; it’s a far, far, better rest I go to, than I have ever known!”

Affectionately,

Holmsey

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud!” said Craven. “Again! That ain’t from any Homes story I know of! Somebody! Anybody! Put me out of my misery!”

 

The End (for now)

 

Photo courtesy of wiki commons: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Sherlock_Holmes#/media/File:Holmes_by_Paget.jpg