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Chapter Text

Tigger and Miss Marple were sitting in her back garden one afternoon, when Tigger suddenly said, “You know how, in stories, they end with the hero and heroine living happily ever after.  Is that always the case?”

Miss Marple looked at Tigger, who was fiddling with his sou’wester.  “It’s not always the case in real life.  Sometimes the unexpected happens.”

“Hmm.  But what about if one of them does something, that is the hero or heroine?”

“Well, no-one’s perfect and sometimes even the hero or heroine isn’t quite what they seem.  Did you have anything particular in mind?”

“Oh, no.  Well, yes, but I can’t tell you about it.”

“I quite understand.  Can you tell me if it’s the hero or the heroine you have concerns about.”

“Oh, the hero.  You see, I know he loves the heroine and she loves him.  But I think he’s planning on doing something not really heroic to please her.”

“Ah, yes.  A bit like young Jimmy Palmer.  He wanted to give his young lady a beautiful bouquet of flowers for her birthday.  I think if I hadn’t happened to walk past the florist’s at just the right moment he might have stolen one.  As it was, I suggested he give her some of the flowers from his own garden; I was sure his mother wouldn’t mind, since he helped her in the garden.”

“And did he?”

“Yes.  He presented them to her and asked her to marry him.  Their wedding is next month.”

“So they will live happily ever after.”

“That we cannot be sure of.”

Tigger hopped off the garden seat, pushed his sou’wester onto his head, and said, “Thank you very much for your help, Miss Marple.  I’m afraid I must be off now.  If I hurry I should be able to stop a similar bouquet being stolen.”

“Goodbye, dear.  You can let me know how you get on next time we meet.”

“I will!”  And with that Tigger bounced away.

Chapter Text

Mrs Hudson thumped down the stairs to answer the door.  Really she had quite enough to do without dealing with unexpected callers for Mr Holmes.  It wasn’t for the doctor, the knocking was almost tentative, not an urgent request to attend a patient.

She opened the door to see a young man standing there, looking apologetic.  “I’m very sorry to trouble you,” he said, “but I think I’ve found something of yours.”

“And just what might that be?” Mrs Hudson enquired sternly.

The young man removed from his coat pocket a rather battered hat and held it out.

“So that’s where it got to,” Mrs Hudson exclaimed.  “You’d better come in, Mr er…”

“Carter.  Thank you.”

They went inside and Mrs Hudson shut the door firmly behind them.

“The thing is,” Adam Carter said, “I found it pushed behind the pipework in a gentlemen’s lavatory.  I thought it was an odd thing to have in there, and, since there was a slip of paper with your name and address tucked into the inside band, I decided I’d return it to you.”

“And no doubt ask me what it was doing there.”

“Well, yes.  It’s a little difficult to explain, but it was hidden quite high up, which meant that whoever had hidden it was, um…”

“Precisely.  Now, there’s no need for you to worry on my account.  The hat disappeared a few weeks ago and I blamed Mr Holmes for taking it.  Considering where it was found, the blame is entirely justified.”

“Mr Holmes?  I really don’t think he could have…”

“Mr Sherlock Holmes, not his brother.”

“Oh, oh good.  You see I was going to have to tell Mr Mycroft Holmes what I’d found there, but in which case…”

“I suggest you still do so.  And if you happen to run into Mr Sherlock Holmes you can tell him that I do not approve of him borrowing my apparel and even less leaving it somewhere so insalubrious.”

Adam Carter smiled.  “I’ll be sure to do so.”

Chapter Text

Dr Watson looked down at the state of his trousers and stifled a groan.  “That could have gone better,” he said to the Ferret, who was currently sitting in his jacket pocket.

Sherlock Holmes had needed someone to act as both a distraction and an early warning when he had decided on a spot of housebreaking.  Instead of the barrel organ, which Holmes decreed to be too cumbersome for the purpose, and Watson had pointed out was still broken anyway, he had had a concertina.  The Ferret had taken his usual role of monkey, with a little red hat and jacket.

Watson stood on a street corner and massacred his way through four songs, which he claimed were different, although, judging from the audience reaction, it was not easy to tell them apart.  In addition, he was to play, ‘My old man said follow the van,’ if there were any police constables in sight, and ‘Any old iron,’ if the owner of the house returned unexpectedly.

As it was, Watson had been playing for about ten minutes, with a few coppers tossed into his bowler hat, when he spotted the owner coming round the corner of the street.  He began to play ‘Any old iron’ but then he saw a constable walking briskly from the other direction, and it became ‘You look neat, follow the van and don’t dilly dally,’ before he grabbed his hat and took to his heels, since the constable had blown his whistle and shouted, “Oh, you!”

Watson darted down a side alley which led him to a busy main road.  There, he stopped to get his breath, and considered his trousers, which were mud splattered from running through puddles.

“We need to go back,” Ferret said.  “I’ve dropped my hat!”

“We are not going back,” Watson said firmly.  “We are going straight to Baker Street.  And as it is we’ll have to go by bus, as no taxi will take me in this state.”

“I want my hat,” Ferret wailed.

“I’ll get you another one,” Watson said through gritted teeth.

“With a tassel?  The tassel on mine had fallen off.”

“Very well,” Watson sighed.  “With a tassel.”

“That’s all right then.  Let’s go home!”

Chapter Text

“I presume my brother sent you,” Sherlock Holmes said crossly.

“Er, yes, he thought it would be advisable, in the circumstances,” Lucas North replied.

“Very well then.  Follow me, and do not, for any reason, interfere.”

“I was told…”

“He worries too much.  Although, if I end up in the Thames, you may pull me out.”

“Right.  Is that likely?”

“It is a vague possibility, and the sort of thing which might worry my brother.”  Holmes said no more, but set off down a winding series of alleys which brought them out close to the river.

Holmes wandered around, peering at various items by the light of a small lamp.  “Can you smell it?” he asked finally.

Lucas pulled a face.  “I can hardly avoid smelling it.  It seems to be everywhere.”

“Every four weeks, the factory on the far side emits that smell.  The timing coincides with the tides, I believe.”

“Right.  But that’s not why we’re here, is it?”

“Only indirectly.  If you were proposing doing something which would make a strong smell, but you didn’t want anyone to notice, when would you plan to do it?”

“When there’s an even stronger smell to obscure it.”

“Exactly.  And that is why we are here, looking for proof.”

“I can help if I know the sort of thing I’m looking for.”

“Any evidence of burning chemicals.  But, if you find something do not pick it up.  Show me what you have found and I will collect it, I have tongs and suitable containers.”

Chapter Text

Adam Carter met Miss Marple at Paddington station and they greeted each other warmly.  Then he picked up her suitcase and offered her his arm, which she declined with a wave of her walking stick.

As they left the station, he said, “Harry’s asked that we go to the Grid before I take you to your hotel.  However he also said there was no need to hurry, as he had a meeting he had to attend this afternoon.  So is there anything you particularly want to do?”

“Well, first thing’s first, I would like a nice cup of tea.  The train was so hot, and, even with the windows open, there was little breeze.  And of course one has to shut the window once one reaches the outskirts of London,” Miss Marple replied.

“Certainly, what sort of establishment would you fancy?  Tea room, or we can go to one of the central hotels.”

“As I’d like you to give me as many details as possible before I meet dear Harry, somewhere we can talk without being overheard would be best, I think.”

“How about Bertram’s?  I imagine it will have changed since you were last there, but it should suit our purposes.”

“That would be ideal.  And it will be very interesting to see in what ways it has changed.”

Inside the hotel, Adam explained to one of the waiters that he would like a quiet table where he could talk to his ‘aunt’.

“At my age,” Miss Marple added, “it becomes a little more difficult to hear clearly.”

“Certainly, madam, I understand perfectly,” the waiter replied.

He led them to a secluded table, and once he had left them, Adam said, “I wasn’t aware your hearing was anything less than very acute.”

Miss Marple smiled.  “It isn’t, but it doesn’t hurt to exaggerate on occasions.”

Adam had wanted to start giving her his information immediately, but she insisted that nothing of importance was to be said until she had a cup of tea.  After which, she listened intently, occasionally asking a question, before saying, “This should all prove very interesting.  I’m very much looking forward to my stay.”

Chapter Text

Dr Watson was passing Mrs Hudson’s kitchen when he noticed she was vigorously polishing a brass candlestick.  He wondered what the candlestick had been guilty of to justify the attack she appeared to be making on it.

“Is everything all right, Mrs Hudson?” he asked.

She looked up.  “Perfectly, thank you, doctor.”

“Only you do seem to be having some trouble with that candlestick.”

She looked down at the object in her hands.  “Just making sure I’ve got rid of all the stains.”

“It looked fine this morning.  Although I admit I didn’t look too closely at it.”

“This is recent staining.  If I act now it should come off.”

“But Holmes went out before me and, as far as I’m away hasn’t returned yet.”

“No, he’s not back yet.”

Watson thought for a moment and then asked, “What sort of stain precisely?”

“Blood.”  Mrs Hudson didn’t look particularly perturbed, although it was true she had to deal with blood stains on a semi-regular basis.

“Whose?”

“I don’t know his name.  Someone who refused to take ‘no’ for an answer.” 

“Right.  I just called in to let you know we should both be in for luncheon.”

Watson turned to leave and Mrs Hudson said, “One thing, doctor.”

“Yes?”

“Could you do something with the gun in the cooker?  I put it in there for safe keeping, but I shall be needing to use the cooker.  The man left it behind.”

Chapter Text

Miss Marple heard a knock on the front door of her cottage and went to see who it could be.  She was not expecting any visitors, but from the sound of the knocker the caller was someone who thought they were expected.  She opened the door and exclaimed, “Good afternoon, Dr Watson, what a pleasant surprise.”

Rather than coming in, as most visitors would, Watson continue to stand on the doorstep, looking rather nonplussed.

“Do please come in,” Miss Marple said.  “Can I get you a cup of tea?”

“Er, oh, yes please,” he said.

“Do go into the parlour and I’ll be with you in a minute.  I’m sure whatever the mystery is which brings you here, it can wait for a cup of tea.”

She busied herself with making the tea, and then, having added a plate of homemade biscuits to the tray, carried it through to the parlour.  Watson would have said something, but she insisted on pouring the tea first and taking her own seat before she said, “What brings you here?”

“It’s rather awkward,” Watson began.  “Did you write this?”  He passed a note over to her.

She looked at it briefly, then read it out, “ ‘Dear Dr Watson, I would like to consult you on a particular matter.  Would you be so good as to come for tea on Tuesday next at three o’clock.  Yours, Jane Marple.’  How very strange.  While it is most certainly just after three on Tuesday, and you are always welcome to come to tea, I definitely did not write the letter.  I agree the handwriting bears a superficial resemblance to my own, it would be very similar to many ladies of my age, since that is the script we were taught to use.”

“In which case, I must apologise for my unwanted intrusion.”

“Please don’t apologise, as I said I am always delighted to see you.  But I am extremely curious as to who decided to send you the letter, with such specific instructions as to the time and date.  Did you keep the envelope.”

Watson took it out of his pocket and handed it over.

“Hmm, a Market Basing postmark, that is correct.  And the writing on the envelope does look like mine.  Let me just compare it to that in the letter.  Oh, now that is interesting.  I suspect the envelope is from a previous letter I had written to you – see, the date on the postmark has been smudged.  What do you usually do with envelopes if you do not wish to keep them?”

“Throw them on the fire.  Although I would normally keep your letters in their envelopes.”

“But not always.”

“No, not always.”

“Then I would deduce, and I believe that is the correct word, that, since Mrs Hudson and her staff would hardly be involved, that Mr Holmes is responsible for this particular deception.”

Watson snorted.

“And therefore, that something more is about to happen.”  Miss Marple’s eyes twinkled as she added, “Isn’t it fortunate that I have no particular plans for the next couple of days and can join you in your adventure.” 

Chapter Text

“Where were you trying to get to?” the Ferret asked his new friend.

“I wanted to get inside that little wooden hut,” Tigger Holmes replied, “but although I’ve bounced all the way round it the only way in is through that door.”

Ferret looked at the door, which appeared to be padlocked shut.  “We could try rattling the door,” he said.

“I bounced against it a couple of times, but the padlock didn’t give.”

“It looks new, that’s probably why.  There is a hole at the bottom of the side wall.”

“I’d never get through there, I’d get stuck halfway and look like my friend Pooh Bear.”

“Who?”

“I’ll tell you the story another time.”

Ferret looked thoughtful.  “I’m smaller than you and I think, if you push me, I should be able to get in.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think that will help.  I do need to get in there.”

“I have an idea.  So, once I’m inside you need to stand away from the door.”

With a lot of pushing by Tigger and a lot of scrabbling by Ferret, he managed to get inside.  Once there, he mentally put on his superhero cloak; had he known he would be needing it, he would have brought it with him.  He then scrambled up onto a high shelf and launched himself at the door.

The door creaked and groaned and opened a few inches.  Tigger came and pulled it a bit more so that Ferret could get back outside.

“How did you manage that?” Tigger asked.

“The padlock was new, but the hinges were old and rusty, so they gave way when I pushed them.”

“Thank you very much.”

Tigger disappeared into the shed and a few minutes later reappeared, looking, Ferret thought, extra bouncy.

“It was just as I thought,” Tigger said.  “And now I know I can tell the queen who is responsible.”  He looked at the open door.  “They’re going to be suspicious though, when they see the door open.”

“Don’t worry,” Ferret chuckled, “they’ll never suspect it was us!”

Chapter Text

Sherlock Holmes was sitting in his armchair, his fingers steepled under his chin, as he considered what he knew and what still needed to be found.  There was a knock on the door and he grunted, “Harrumph!”, hoping that whoever was on the other side of the door would take the hint and depart again.

They didn’t and the door opened to admit a young man.  Holmes looked at him and scowled.  “I suppose you’re from my brother as well,” he said.

“Yes, Mr Holmes has sent me to talk to you.  May I sit down?”

“If you must.”

The young man sat on one of the dining chairs, which at least meant he wasn’t planning on staying long.  “My name is Adam Carter,” he began.  “I’ve been looking through the personal advertisements in the evening papers; I believe it was you who recommended the practice.”  Holmes nodded.  “I’ve cut out what I believe are the relevant pages.”  He spread them out on the table, forcing Holmes to stand up to look at them.  “And I’ve circled the important messages with red ink.”

“I already know about those,” Holmes said.

“I was sure you would do.  However, you will see there’s a second set of messages, which I’ve circled in blue ink.  I believe they relate to the first, but also provide a second, and possibly more important, set.”

“Holmes noted that Carter had laid the pages out in date order and read across them.  “Well, I never,” he said.  “Most ingenious.  And they provide the one thing I was still searching for.”  He grabbed his hat and rammed it on his head, leaving the room while still putting his coat on.  “Come along,” he called over his shoulder, no time to waste, the game is a-foot!”

Chapter Text

“You’re here again,” Mrs Hudson stated.

The Ferret nodded, there was little point in denying something which was quite obvious.

“I had been planning to take advantage of their absence by sitting out in the back yard and enjoying the sunshine with a little beverage or two.  Do you want to join me?”

Ferret nodded again.  He had nothing much to do, his plans for the day having gone downhill as soon as he saw his latest girlfriend, a young squirrel, chatting in a very friendly fashion with a squirrel with the finest tail Ferret had ever seen.

Mrs Hudson took out a battered dining chair which had been covered in sandy-coloured fabric and a small table painted in a pale blue.  “Baker Street by the sea,” she said, throwing a cushion shaped like a large sea shell onto the ground for Ferret.

Then she picked up her magazine and began to read.  Ferret was impressed by how she seemed to be able to pour a glass of gin without spilling a drop while she continued reading.  She had given him a saucer with broken bits of sausage roll on it, so having eaten his fill, he lay on his back on the cushion, his furry tummy enjoying the sunshine and fell asleep.

Chapter Text

“It’s so frustrating, Miss Marple,” Lucas said.  “I can’t seem to get my head around how to deal with this current case.  There’s too many strands, too many imponderables.”

“Well, first of all, you do know you can call me Aunt Jane if it helps,” Miss Marple replied.  “I know this is how you refer to me when we are, let us say, undercover, but I couldn’t help noticing that you seemed to like saying it.”

She was pleased to see Lucas noticeably relax back in the armchair as he said, “Thank you very much, I’d like that.  Of course, I shall still refer to you as Miss Marple in formal work situations.”

“I would expect nothing more.  Now, as to your current problem, I think strands might be the clue.”

“How?”

“Imagine that you are weaving a piece of cloth.  Please don’t pull a face, I shall explain the process and relevance as I go along.”

“Sorry, Aunt Jane.”  Lucas burst out laughing at her expression, and repeated his apology.

“Hmm.  We begin with the warp, that is the threads which are spread across the loom to start with.  We can liken them to the set points, so perhaps places.  I see you are looking puzzled.  Let me give you an example, for places we could have my cottage, my friend Dolly Bantry’s house, the vicarage, the school and the greengrocer.  I cannot possibly be in two places at once, so they are set points.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Now the weft, which is the thread which is woven between the warp is more imponderable.  This thread can be changed as you go along to alter the pattern.”

“And if you really don’t like the way the pattern is going you can pull it out, or some of it and have another go.”  Lucas nodded to himself.  “But if there’s a mistake with the warp threads then the only thing to do is tear it all up and start again.  So what you’re saying is to decide on my warp threads, the things that cannot be changed.”

Miss Marple smiled.  “Exactly.  After which you can experiment, if you like to call it that, with your weft threads until you have a pattern, or maybe more than one pattern, which you like.”

Lucas stood up.  “Thank you very much, Miss Marple.  No, Aunt Jane.”  He smiled, “That will really help me.  I’ll be in touch again in the next few days, once I’ve got my fabric woven to everyone’s satisfaction.”

“I shall look forward to it, dear.”

Chapter Text

Adam Carter looked up from the bottom of the hole he’d been flung into.  He wondered whether he was suffering from concussion, since there appeared to be a small tiger, wearing a sou’wester, looking down at him.

“Hello,” said the small tiger.  “Are you a heffalump?”

Adam started to shake his head, but it hurt too much, so instead he said, “No!”

“Only you appear to be in a heffalump trap.”

“No, I’m not a heffalump.  Um, my name is Adam Carter.”

“I’m Tigger Holmes.”  Tigger paused, thought, and then said, “So, if you’re an Adam Carter, not a heffalump, but you are in a heffalump trap, how did this happen?”

“Some men tied me up and then threw me in here.  And now I can’t get out.”

“Right.  Do you think you could get out if I untie you?  Only I don’t think I can pull you out, and even if I go and find all Rabbit’s friends and relations, I’m not sure we can get you out.”

Adam groaned.  “I should be able to.  But how are you going to get down to me?”

“That’s easy.  I can bounce down.”

Tigger bounced down and untied Adam’s hands.  It took him a little while, as paws aren’t the best thing for undoing knots, but he succeeded.  After which, Adam released his ankles and gingerly stood up.  He felt a bit wobbly, but decided he should be able to climb out.

But first, he lifted Tigger up and his new friend bounced out of the way, before he scrambled out.  It was rather an ungainly effort, but Adam wasn’t too bothered, he had a feeling Tigger wouldn’t be judging him.  By the time he was out, he saw Tigger had collected together a number of branches.

“What are those for?” Adam asked.

“If you can help me, we can cover over the heffalump trap, just in case any heffalumps should come along.” 

Adam didn’t think that small tigers could wink, but this one certainly seemed to, so he said, “What an excellent idea.  And thank you very much for all your help.”

“It was my pleasure.  After all, we don’t want Adam Carters in heffalump traps, do we?”

Chapter Text

“Don’t look so downhearted,” the Ferret said to Lucas North.  “It’ll only be a matter of time before we’re released.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” Lucas asked.  “No-one even knows where I am.  And it will be some time before they even realise I’m missing.”

“Ah,” Ferret preened himself slightly, “that’s where you need my connections.  They will already know that something’s happened to me.”  (This was true, it was past lunchtime, and his absence had been noted.)  He thought for a moment and then added, “Although, when the chance comes, I suggest you don’t hang around.”

Lucas smiled at the Ferret.  “Okay, whatever you say.”

It was a little while later that one of their captors unlocked the door and came into the small room where they were being held.  Suddenly, he let out a loud cry of pain, and began hopping around, leaving the door wide open.

Lucas didn’t wait, but took off down the corridor.  Once outside, he ran down an alleyway, only stopping to get his breath back when he reached the main road.

He was joined shortly afterwards by the Ferret, who said, “See, I told you I had connections.  In this case it was the connections between my teeth and the man’s ankle!”

Chapter Text

“I’m really looking forward to our next camping trip,” Tigger Holmes said.

“Oh, yes?”  Dr Watson didn’t sound entirely convinced, Tigger’s ideas weren’t always the most practical; the first time he’d suggested camping had been in December, although they had ended up sleeping indoors.

“Yes, I’m getting a new tent, which will be a great improvement on the one that belongs to Miss Marple’s gardener.”

Dr Watson was feeling even less happy, since he’d never actually had to sleep in the gardener’s tent, this time he might be expected to camp outside.

“Kanga’s making it for me.  It’s a special tent which can be put up inside an outdoor tent, to keep it extra warm.  And, and this is the really special bit, it can also be used by itself, when camping indoors.”

“And how big is this tent?”

“It’s a new and improved one Tigger tent.  It’s the only one in existence!”

“It sounds ideal!”  Dr Watson hoped his relief wouldn’t be apparent, but Tigger was so excited at the idea of his new tent that he never noticed.

Chapter Text

“If that’s Mr Holmes’ visitor,” Mrs Hudson shouted, “let him in, show him where to go, and say Mr Holmes should be back shortly.”

She heard a man’s footsteps coming up the stairs, which then stopped when they drew level with the open door which led into her kitchen, and a voice said, somewhat hesitantly, “Mrs Hudson?”

“Not in!” she snapped.

“Right.  In which case, could you pass onto her a message from Mr Holmes, um, that is Mr Mycroft Holmes.”

“And what does he want?”

The chair she was standing on wobbled rather alarmingly, and the man came over to hold it still.

“Before I tell you,” he said, “can I give you a hand at all?”

Mrs Hudson looked down at the young man, who was clearly several inches taller than she was.  “Yes, maybe you can,” she said.  “Can you reach the object at the back on top of the cupboard, but you’ll need to avoid the mousetraps at the front.”

The man bit his lip, tried to control his expression, and helped her down from the chair.  He then took her place, reached carefully to the back of the cupboard and retrieved what appeared to be an old newspaper.  “Is this it?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you.  Now you’d better give me the message from Mr Holmes.”

“Certainly, Mrs Hudson.  My name is Lucas North and I will be staying here in Mr Sherlock Holmes’ place for a few days.  I have a letter for you if you would care to read it.”  He passed it over.

Mrs Hudson read the letter and nodded.  “Very well,” she said.  “In which case I shall prepare your lunch.  You will have to have the same as Ethel and me, I don’t have time for doing extras.”

“Of course.  Thank you very much.”  Lucas would have liked to ask why Mrs Hudson kept an old newspaper on top of a cupboard protected by mousetraps, but decided it would be wisest not to ask.

Chapter Text

Tigger Holmes looked critically at Sherlock Holmes and said, “Didn’t you get my message?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t,” Holmes replied somewhat brusquely.

“Then you can’t have read it properly.”

“I fail to see how you can deduce that.”

“I included a specific instruction, which you have completely ignored.”

“You said you’d find the buried documents, which was all I needed to know.”

Tigger sighed.  “I can understand if you didn’t have one of your own, but surely you could have borrowed one.”

“And why should I?”

“Because I do not have a spade, which is why I particularly wrote, ‘Bring your own spade’.  Even my friend Pooh Bear would understand that to dig up something which had been buried, you would need a spade!”

Holmes groaned.  “I’ll go and find one.”

Chapter Text

“It seems such a waste of energy,” Mrs Hudson remarked.

“I quite agree.”  Miss Marple nodded her head.

“All this rushing around, coming in and out, running upstairs and running back down.”

“Hurrying off to see people, returning to check on what they said, getting the wrong idea.”

“Because they’ve failed to grasp the important small facts.”

“Exactly, such as regardless of what time the bus was running, no-one would go shopping on Thursday afternoon.”

“Early closing day, I presume.”

“Precisely.  So much energy expended, when all they need is…”

“A nice cup of tea.”

“And a biscuit.  I’ve brought some homemade ones if you’d like to try one.”

Mrs Hudson poured the tea and accepted a biscuit from Miss Marple’s tin.

After that, Miss Marple took out her notebook and pen and said, “I’m sure, if we consider all the facts, we will soon have the only possible solution.”

They thought, and discussed, and had some more tea and biscuits, and finally Mrs Hudson said, “That seems to cover everything.”

“Will you tell them at once?” Miss Marple asked.

“Oh no, I’ll leave them to tire themselves out a bit more yet.  They won’t listen to me until they’ve exhausted themselves.”

“True.  That is sadly so often the case.”

Chapter Text

“It amazes me,” Dr Watson began, “that anyone can say meeting Holmes was their best day ever.”

“I’m surprised that you say that,” Adam Carter replied.  “I’ve always been under the impression that meeting Mr Holmes made a great difference to your life.”

“I’m not denying that, and have no regrets about the way he changed my life.  But doesn’t it strike you as rather sad that the best day in my life was so many years ago?”

“Yes, putting like that then one would know that nothing would ever measure up to it, so the future can only look bleaker.”

“And then, how can anyone judge?  One’s circumstances and situation change over the years, how can we be realistic that one day is above all others?”

“You do sound rather reflective at the moment.  Has something happened?”

“You must excuse me.  I get like this every year as autumn starts.  You could say that my best day ever was the day I was rescued from the battlefield in Afghanistan.  I always remember that, and also those who didn’t make it.  I admit I’m not good company at this time.”

“Please don’t apologise.  I was at Ypres and know only too well that feeling, not that I’ll admit to it to most people.”

“So you understand me when I say that sometimes it’s the little things, the ones which don’t stay in your memory, but are so important at the time, that really make the difference.”

Adam gave a small smile.  “I do, thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

“Making me feel like I’m not alone when I have those thoughts.”

Chapter Text

“I fail to see why you should think that,” Tigger Holmes began.

Lucas North hugged his knees and said, “I’ve put together all the indications, everything I know, and that’s the only conclusion I can come to.  Which means that all the work I’ve done over the past week and a half is completely wasted.”

“I sometimes think that, but then I retrace my steps carefully to find the point at which I’ve gone the wrong way.”

“I’ve gone over it all several times and I’m sure I’ve not gone wrong.”

“But do you start again from the beginning or do you go back from the end?”

“Carefully, from the beginning, of course.”

“Now, you see, when you’re in the Hundred Acre Woods, it’s better to work your way back from where you are.  Which is what I do.  And that way I find where the path split and I went right instead of left.  Even though all the indications were that going right was the better way.  Or I come to Eeyore’s thistle patch, which I’ve had to walk round, but what if I’d gone round it the other way?”

“Couldn’t you just go through Eeyore’s patch?”

Tigger gave Lucas a disbelieving look.  “Nobody walks through his thistle patch.  It would be very prickly, and Eeyore would not be happy.”

“So what if the answer is in there?”

“Oh, Eeyore would find it and would grumble about it.”

“Hmm.”  Lucas sat and thought for a while, nodded to himself, and then said, “Of course, if that was the case, and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be, Harry and Malcolm’s assumptions were based on false premises, which means that it’s all quite possible after all.”  He leapt up.  “I must go.  Thank you so much for your help, Tigger.”

Tigger raised his sou’wester and said, “It was my pleasure.  Until we meet again.”

“I look forward to it!”

Chapter Text

Mrs Hudson entered the rooms of 221B and stared at Sherlock Holmes, who was currently pointing a revolver at the wall.  “Mr Holmes,” she thundered, “If you damage another brick in the wall, you will leave this property immediately.  Your bags will be packed and sent on after you.”

Holmes looked at her.  “My dear lady, whatever gives you the idea that I was planning on shooting at the wall?”

She looked pointedly at the VR which remained in the wall.

“But that was due to boredom.  I am not bored in the least today.  I have a fascinating case on hand.”

“Boredom, a case, or aiming at shadows, it makes no difference to me.  One more shot and you are OUT!”

“There are no bullets in my revolver at the moment.”

She continued to glare at him and he put the revolver on the table.

Then he said, “How about if I point two fingers and shout ‘bang’?”

Her expression would have withered a lesser man.  Holmes merely sat in an armchair and picked up his newspaper.  He was not surprised when his landlady picked up the revolver and took it downstairs with her.  He would have to ask Watson to collect it for him, but it was probably prudent to wait a day or two.  He decided it was wiser not to mention that he was actually trying to work out whether the person who had shot Rutherford had known he was coming, or if his visit had been unexpected.

Chapter Text

“Excuse me, are you Dr Watson, um, Dr John Watson?” Lucas North asked.

Watson looked up, surprised to be addressed by anyone.  He had taken advantage of half an hour before he was due at a meeting, to sit on a park bench and enjoy the sunshine.  He must have been dozing, because he hadn’t heard the young man approach.  “Yes, I am,” he said.  “Can I help you?”

“Oh, no.  I just wondered,” Lucas pointed at a bowler hat which was lying on the grass a few yards away, “is that yours?”

Watson stood up to get a better look, and in doing so put his hand on his own hat, which he’d placed on the bench when he’d sat down.  “No, I have mine here.  However, I’ll just take a look, someone must have lost it.”

To Watson’s surprise, Lucas took his arm and started hurrying down the path.  “I think it would be better if we were further away,” he said.

Watson had started to protest, but there was a sudden explosion, and where the hat had been there was now scorched grass.  “Oh!”

“I have been sent by Mycroft Holmes to request your urgent presence at a meeting in his rooms.  In the circumstances, it might be best if I escort you there now.”

“Thank you.”  Watson sighed, “I hadn’t realised matters had become quite so serious.  I’m sure if you have anything else you should be doing, I can get there safely, but if not, thank you, I would appreciate your company.  You seem rather more aware of the potential dangers than I am."

Chapter Text

“What do you make of this?” Sherlock Holmes asked.  He passed a piece of paper across to Miss Marple.

“It would seem to be a shopping list,” she replied.

“Do you notice anything strange about it?”

She took a further look.  “It does look a little odd.  It’s not the list of someone who is going out to buy the week’s essentials.  And yet, it’s a very strange collection of items for anyone who is seeking to replenish things they’re running short of.  Is it a code of some sort?  You would be better placed to decipher one than I am.”

“If it is a code, the words will each have a particular significance only known to the sender and recipient, such as date, time and place.”

“But normally one writes a shopping list for oneself, not to pass on.  Occasionally I will do Mrs Johnson’s shopping for her, and she gives me a list, but that’s not a regular occurrence.  No, this list was written for use by the writer.”  She closed her eyes in thought.  “Yes, I knew it reminded me of something.”

“What is it?”

“Bees’ wax polish.  I was in Market Basing earlier this week and the hardware shop had a display of the polish in its window.  Potatoes and apples come from the greengrocer next door.  Shortbread biscuits from the Primrose Tea Room.  And then it’s the grocer for the tinned peaches.”

“So the list is just a summary of shops in the main street?”

“But you see, the shop after the grocer is the jeweller’s.  I suspect this is directions to the jeweller’s shop, written in a way that doesn’t look at all suspicious.  I would therefore suggest you inform the local constabulary at once.”

Chapter Text

Lucas opened the paper bag and looked inside.  Adam almost laughed at the disappointment in his expression, but managed not to.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Tragedy was writ large on Lucas’ face.  “There’s only one doughnut left,” he said. “I hadn’t realised we’d eaten all the others.”

“It’s all right,” Adam replied.  “You can have it.”

“You don’t need to be magnanimous.”  Lucas adopted the look of a noble hero, suffering in a good cause.  “We can share it.”

He took out a knife, and cut the doughnut in half, spluttering jam everywhere.

“I tell you what,” Adam said.  “I’ll go and buy some more.”

“Can you get one of those chocolate cakes at the same time, please?” Lucas asked, a big grin on his face.

“You did that deliberately, didn’t you?”

“Maybe!”

Chapter Text

Sherlock Holmes had taken the Ferret with him when he went to visit a house in which he believed stolen jewels were kept prior to shipping to the Continent.  He had been invited to an afternoon ‘at home’ by the wife of the householder, and was planning on using the opportunity to have a look round, and giving the Ferret the full run of the house while he was in the drawing room.

The butler opened the front door and Holmes was admitted, a footman coming forward to receive his hat and coat.  The Ferret took the opportunity to jump down and scuttle away.  The footman turned his head, as if he had caught sight of something, but Holmes distracted him by saying he needed something which he had left in his coat pocket.

There were a number of guests that afternoon and Holmes took advantage of their movement to discretely search the reception rooms, although he wasn’t surprised not to find anything of interest.  He stayed longer than he would usually do at such occasions, and by the time he decided to leave he was feeling somewhat frustrated, since the Ferret hadn’t returned with any news either.

He had just requested his hat and coat from the footman, when the Ferret trotted happily out of the dining room, looking very pleased with himself, with pastry crumbs on his chin and what looked like lemon curd sticking to his chest.  Holmes bent down to retie a bootlace and the Ferret ran over and hopped into his jacket pocket.

Once outside, Holmes asked, “Did you find anything?”

“Oh yes, in one of the first places I looked,” Ferret replied.  “There’s a cupboard in the butler’s pantry, and behind all the materials for cleaning the silver, there are a number of little boxes which contain jewellery, all sparkly and shiny.  I’d say they’ve been polished here ready for sale.”

“So why didn’t you come and tell me once you’d found them?”

“I had to wait until I could avoid being seen and then I was working my way underneath the tables, only I had to stop and check out what had been dropped as I came through.  Oh, and I think your pocket may be a bit sticky now, sorry!”

Chapter Text

Miss Marple looked down at the prone figure of the Ferret, who had apparently fallen from the stone balustrade beside the steps which led up to the great hall of the country house.

“Are you all right, dear?” she called, only half anxious, because she was aware of his ability to bounce back.

Ferret waved a paw at her, so, slowly and carefully, since she did not wish to take a tumble herself, she walked down the steps and round to where the Ferret lay. He staggered to his feet as she appeared and gave himself a shake, dislodging a couple of small leaves in the process.

“How did it happen?” she asked.

“I’m not quite sure,” he replied.  “One minute I was dancing along the broad stone of the main bally-thing and then, I suppose it was in the heat of the moment, I was so bound up in my dance, I tried to leap onto the top of that spherical ornament and must have missed my footing.  Anyway, I ended up here.  But it’s all right, apart from mussing my fur a bit, there’s no damage done.  Do you think I should have another go?”

“I’m not really sure about that,” Miss Marple said.  In fact, she was convinced that a second attempt would have the same conclusion as the first, but didn’t believe in kicking a mustelid when he was down, so she added, “I was just off to find myself a nice cup of tea, and maybe a piece of cake.  I understand the café here is very good.  Would you like to accompany me?”

“Oh, yes, please,” Ferret said.  “I can always have another go later.”

Chapter Text

“Ah!” Tigger Holmes looked dubiously at Mrs Hudson.  “I think there’s been some mistake.  The message that reached me was that you wanted some strong sticks.”

Mrs Hudson looked equally dubiously at the small tiger standing in front of her.  He had bounded in and announced triumphantly, “I have the very thing you were after.” 

“I don’t understand how you heard that I wanted anything, regardless of what you’ve brought,” she said.

“I presume you were standing in front of a mirror,” Tigger replied.

Mrs Hudson thought and said, “You’re right.  I was standing before a mirror, looking at my book and saying I needed something strong to stick the cloth cover back on again.”

“That explains it.  Messages by mirror can get a little distorted.  So I’ve brought you some strong sticks for playing Pooh sticks.  I presume you do play?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never tried it.”

“Well, it’s a perfect afternoon for playing.  All we need is a bridge over a flowing stream.  Is there one nearby?”

“Yes, there’s one in the park.  Would you like to show me how to play?  It’s too nice an afternoon for staying indoors mending books.  I can do that of an evening.”

“I’d be delighted!”

With that Tigger and Mrs Hudson departed to enjoy a game of Pooh sticks.

Chapter Text

“Holmes,” I said one evening, “what is your favourite colour?”

He looked at me strangely, which was perhaps understandable, and said, “Why are you asking me that question, after all the years we have spent together?”

“Mrs Maiden tells me we really need to replace our bedroom curtains, so I thought perhaps you would like some in your favourite colour.”

“Why do the curtains need replacing?  She cannot accuse me of setting fire to them; I haven’t done that for years.”

“And we are all very grateful, too.”  I laughed.  “No, we have been here some years now, and those curtains were old when we hung them.  One day soon one of us will open or close the curtains and they will fall apart in our hands.”

Holmes gave me a considering look.  “And is there a second reason?”

“I still can’t keep anything from you, can I?  Yes, if we purchase the material now, then we can ask Eliza Morley to make up the curtains.”

“And give her another opportunity to earn some money – an excellent idea.  Have you decided the colour for your curtains?”

“I shall have pale blue, the colour of the sky in early spring, with all the hope and promise that brings.”

“And I shall choose yellow, as a symbol of my bees.”

“Not yellow and black stripes?”

“Watson, I realise there are those in the village who believe me a little eccentric, but even they would be concerned if that was my choice.”

I laughed again.  “Very well.  I will let Mrs Maiden know, she will purchase the material and arrange to have them made up.”

Chapter Text

“Well,” the Ferret said, clapping his paws together, “I think we’ve had a very successful time, wouldn’t you agree?”

Adam Carter looked down at his small, furry companion and said, “On the whole, yes, I suppose we have.  I have sustained a few bruises and some loss of dignity…” 

Here the Ferret shrugged his shoulders, as if such matters were a basic fact of life, which in his case was perfectly true.  He said, “We’ve been involved in lots of fun things, and there’s been sausages rolls and lemon curd tarts and sponge cake.  Plus I have a new hat with A Tassel.”  The last two words were enunciated with their capital letters.

“So, where do we go from here?”

“Well, you go back to your world, and follow up the loose ends, and I return to mine and begin rehearsals for ‘A Christmas Dickens’.  I’m sure we shall meet again though.”

Adam held out his hand and the Ferret solemnly shook it before bouncing away.  As Adam started his walk home he was sure he could hear someone singing

We’ll meet again,
To the sound
Of Big Ben
And when it chimes
I’ll be there
With my rhymes
Come and see me in my play this Christmas time!