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“Doctor Watson! Doctor Watson!” Timmy bounced across the courtyard the moment I ducked through the archway, a wide grin expressing his excitement at finally seeing me. “Did he find it? Did he scream?”
I could not halt a laugh. Timmy had found a dead grasshopper last week and left it in Holmes’ room—with my help, of course—and I had promised to convey the reaction the next time I came to the courtyard. He clearly had thought of little else in the days since.
“He did not scream,” I replied. “He startled on opening the door, which he quickly slammed shut. He needed several minutes to get the insect out the window, probably because he didn’t want to touch it, and he grumbled about bugs in his bedroom for days.”
Though he might have struggled because the insect continually moved away from him. Timmy’s “dead” grasshopper had returned to life by the time Holmes entered his room, but I focused more on the young ones around us than on Timmy’s steadily building glee. While I had not seen any signs of another small guest, no insect could have slept through Timmy’s handling.
And our other young troublemaker failed to hide his own widening grin.
“Michael.”
Most of his enjoyment abruptly vanished, but he could not hide everything. I easily caught the laughter dancing in his eyes.
“Morning, Doctor.”
“If I were to search for a live grasshopper, where should I look?”
“The park in that field near the stream,” he answered immediately. “I mean—” His eyes widened, then stuttering tried to take back the reflexive reply that had escaped in his desire to be helpful. I had thought so. Hummed agreement caught his attention as concentrated effort stifled my own amusement to keep my voice stern.
“How did you get in?”
Several seconds of stuttered denials tried to redirect me, but I merely waited. A sigh finally gave up.
“The window,” he admitted grudgingly. “Mr. Holmes al’ays leaves his window unlocked. Was easy to use the drainpipe to reach his room. The dead one fell behind the desk when the wind kicked up.”
That made quite a bit more sense than Timmy’s grasshopper waking up while we were gone. “Did Mrs. Hudson hear you?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t even enter. Just dropped the bug on the floor and closed the window.”
And Holmes had never noticed. I would rib him for that later.
“Doctor, am I in trouble?”
“Why would you be in trouble?” I finally let amusement reach my expression—and calm his worry. “You should probably watch out for payback, though,” I warned. “Holmes spent nearly thirty minutes trying to shoo that bug out the window.”
He and Timmy both giggled, but Jimmy waved at me before either boy could voice more than a “yes, Doctor!” They scampered off as I went to help the older boys grouped around their newest project.
Perhaps a small clue would get Holmes investigating the mystery in his own bedroom. I did not often solve a case before Holmes knew of its existence.
