ELEMENTARY MY DEAR CONAN
Disclaimer: Detective Conan (Case Closed) and Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century belong to their respective creators, so one can get a clue that I’m only writing this for fun.
< >: Thoughts
Eyes, Brains and Heart
The Tarrington residence...
“No... Jimmy... you’re... Conan?! But that’s... impossible.... what...?”
Rachael Moore suddenly stiffened and her eyes widened slightly as a small blue flash appeared behind her. Her body then became limp as she collapsed on top of Conan’s smaller form and was immediately unconscious. As the Little Detective looked up in confusion, he saw Watson standing over them and shook his head sadly. His right hand was uncovered, and the built-in stun beam blaster was extended from his wrist.
“Forgive me, Young Conan, but Miss Moore left me with no other options. She has seen too much. I assure you that she will recover shortly with no ill effects.” He then turned to Sherlock. “But I am most concerned with what to do when she does regain consciousness.”
Sherlock nodded. “Indeed. It seems we may have to take her with us for now.”
“Huh? How are we going to do that?” Conan asked as he struggled to free himself from under Rachael’s prone form. With supreme effort, he managed to wriggle out, but he was still feeling the effects of the cold he was under. He woozily got to his feet and that was when the lights were turned back on. Then he stiffened as he heard footsteps coming down the hall and toward the room. He looked down at himself and realized that he was still wearing his full-sized clothes. If Harley were to see him, it wouldn’t take much to put two and two together. Even Richard Moore might be able to figure things out.
“Watson...” Sherlock said to his compatriot.
“At once Holmes!” The compu-droid then directed his arm at Rachael and Conan. A flash of light enveloped the both of them, then the door was flung open.
Richard came into the room and looked toward Sherlock, Watson and...
Conan shrunk away from Rachael’s father, and Harley, who was just behind him. Then he noticed something strange. Richard and Harley wasn’t looking at him nor Rachael’s unconscious form on the floor. In fact, they were both addressing Sherlock and... Rachael?
<Wait a minute... Rachael’s right over there... so who’s that?>
Sherlock smiled as Watson’s holographic projector had done its job. He had cloaked Conan and Rachael from sight, and was now using a lifelike image of Rachael to fool her father and Kudo’s rival.
“Jimmy you jerk, where did you go?!” The projected likeness of Rachael Moore screamed as she looked about for the absent Detective of the East.
Sherlock played his part by addressing the hologram in a sincere tone. “I am terribly sorry, Ms. Moore, but I’m afraid that my disciple had to rush off to another case. However, he wishes to send his warmest regards and promises that he will see you again.”
“I’ll be fine Dad. I’ll see you later.”
Though Richard didn’t like the idea of his daughter spending time with Holmes, he had agreed to allow Rachael to accompany Sherlock, Watson and Conan back to his office. Once everyone had left the premises, Watson then dropped the holographic projection and let the real truth appear. Rachael was still unconscious as she was secretly removed from the premises and transported to Sherlock, Watson, and Conan’s place of residence.
When she was laid gently on the couch, Conan could only watch with concern as Sherlock and Watson stood with him. Amazingly, he had started to feel better. Watson had scanned his body and presumed that antidote must have caused his immune system to work harder and cleansed the body of all foreign substances.
Nothing was said for a long time as they waited for the stun beam to wear off. Finally she began to stir and Conan held his breath and waited. Rachael groaned slightly at the headache she had acquired and looked over her shoulder and saw him. She slowly focused her eyes on his face and said...
The Little Detective held his breath and was about to nod, when her expression frowned and she remembered the events in the Tarrington residence. Rachael shook her head and reached out to grasp him by the shoulders. Tears started to well up in her eyes.
“No... you’re not Conan! It’s all a lie! You’ve been lying to me all this time, Jimmy Kudo!”
Conan could only bow down his head in sadness as Sherlock and Watson looked on.
“I suppose that that there is no possibility to convince Miss Moore that this had all been a dream, is there?” Watson asked of Holmes.
“Indeed Watson. The thought had crossed my mind.” The legendary detective then addressed his protégé. “I shall leave the explanations entirely up to you... Jimmy. Perhaps some time alone with Miss Moore is in order?”
Conan nodded wordlessly as his eyes locked with Rachael’s.
Some time later...
“Are you certain that it is wise to leave them alone, Holmes?” Watson asked as he and Holmes walked down the streets. “Young Conan has often told us of Miss Moore’s tendency to take extreme measures when angered. She may hurt your disciple with her karate.”
“Of that, I am certain that harming my pupil is the least on her mind. I believe that my student will be able to keep her calm enough and he is a good judge of character.” Sherlock replied.
He then noticed that a large crowd was gathering around a fishing store and that there were a few officers already on the scene. He smiled as he also noted another familiar face. Harley Hartwell was pushing his way through the crowds. “Speaking of characters, I believe that we shall have another opportunity to see a certain character in action. I do hope that he will put the advice I gave to him to use. Come Watson.”
The crowds continue to gather around the store as Holmes and Watson made their way through the throngs of people. When they got to the front door, they came behind Harley as he was arguing with a police officer to allow him to pass.
“Aw c’mon! I can help crack this case! Just let me through!” Hartwell protested, but the officer was adamant in keeping others out.
“I’m sorry but Inspector McGuire wants everyone to stay out of the crime scene. There‘s been a brutal murder.”
“All the more reason to allow us admittance.” Sherlock said, surprising Harley who turned around.
“HOLMES?!” McGuire cried out as he heard the name from within the store. He then called out to the officer. “Let him in, Sagata!”
The officer was similarly awestruck as he looked upon the detective with new respect. He immediately stepped aside. “Go on in, Mr. Holmes!”
Sherlock nodded as he motioned for Watson and Harley to follow.
“Quite a day, eh Sherlock?” McGuire commented as he stood at the crime scene. “You and Kudo solved the Tarrington murder case this afternoon and now, here you are with another homicide.” He then noticed the Detective of the West. “Oh, Hartwell. You still here? Tagging along with Holmes, eh? Maybe you can learn a few things from him.”
Normally, Harley would have taken offense at the suggestion that he needed to learn about being a detective, but after seeing Holmes in action, he smiled and said, “Yeah. Maybe I can pick up a few pointers.”
Sherlock smiled as he addressed the promising sleuth. “Very well then, Mr. Hartwell. Let us begin with this case. Inspector McGuire, please tell us what you have found so far.”
Conan remained silent as he and Rachael walked down the sidewalk and headed toward the park, which was incidentally near the amusement park where they had their first date. The Little Detective stopped near the fountain and looked up toward the tops of some trees. He nodded as he saw the Tropical Land Ferris Wheel.
“It was one of the scariest days of my life, Rachael. And I’m not talking about the murder on that roller coaster.”
“What?” Rachael said as she was still in a bit of a daze over the fact that Conan was Jimmy. He had made no effort in denying that fact and had suggested that they go for a walk, while he explained.
“You remember, don’t you? It was our first date. I couldn’t stop talking about Sherlock Holmes, and then we got on the Mystery Ride. You held my hand. Then that murder happened right behind us...”
Richard’s daughter shuddered at that memory, in which the killer had used her own necklace of pearls and piano wire to decapitate her former boyfriend. “Yes, I remember. It wasn’t something I’d easily forget, though I wish I did. Then you ran off to go check up on something. It was then I felt some strange feeling... like I was never going to see you again.” Rachael choked up a bit, then asked the diminutive sleuth, “What happened to you Jimmy?”
“I... should have stayed with you, Rachael.” Conan said a quiet and sad voice. “If I had, then this wouldn’t have happened to me.” He held up his hands and stared down at the palms. He let them fall down top his sides. “But no, I had to satisfy my detective’s itch. I just had to know what those two men in black were up to.”
“Men in black?”
“You remember those two shady guys who sat in the back of the roller coaster? Well, when I went to check them out, I saw one of them dealing with another guy in some extortion deal. I was so eager to find out what was going on, that I got blindsided by the other man in black. I was knocked silly and they were about to shoot me, but they decided to use some kind of experimental poison on me instead. They left me for dead and... I thought that I was going to die... without telling you how I felt about you...”
Rachael’s heart skipped a beat as she remembered back to that time in the Tarrington home. Did Jimmy actually mean it when he said that he loved her? Her body trembled a bit as Conan continued.
“When I came to, I found myself in this body. That poison didn’t kill me... it shrunk me into a kid. At first, I didn’t believe it, but it was true. The only person I could get to believe me at the time was Dr. Agasa.”
“But why didn’t tell me, Jimmy? Why did you keep it a secret from me for so long?” Rachael demanded, as tears started to appear in her eyes.
Conan shook his head while keeping it bowed down. “Would you have believed me? And besides, if those men in black found out that their poison didn’t work, then they would have been after me again to finish the job. I would have put you in danger, so Dr. Agasa concocted that story about me being a distant relative of his. I couldn’t tell anyone, not even you, and it really hurt for me to keep deceiving you like that. The last thing I wanted to see was you crying.”
Meanwhile at the fishing store...
“The victim’s name was Harry Sankata, age 56.” McGuire said as he stood over the body of the deceased. “He’s the owner of this store and it looks like he died when the killer used a knife to slash his throat. You can see the murder weapon over there.” He pointed to a small, blood-stained knife with a serrated edge. “Looks like he was a victim of a robbery. As you can see, the register had been emptied out and all the money is missing. We also have the surveillance footage of the robber as he confronted the store owner and demanded that he open the register. When Sankata refused, the robber got behind him, slit his throat and killed him, judging by the angle of the cut. Then went around the counter, had the cashier open the register, cleaned it out, then made his getaway.”
“That sounds about what I would have thought.” Harley admitted as he watched Kudo’s mentor go into action.
Sherlock looked about the area around the counter, then knelt down and gazed at the body and its position, particularly at the gash at the neck. Then he took a gander at the supposed murder weapon lying nearby with his magnifying glass. He shook his head and look up at McGuire and Harley. “Inspector, though I do respect your ability to logically piece together the crime from all the available clues, but I am afraid that I must disagree with you on several points. For one thing, this knife is NOT the murder weapon.”
“What?! But Sankata’s blood is on the blade and it’s the only thing that could have made that kind of cut!” McGuire protested. “Also, we’ve got video evidence and...”
“Ah, you are making an assumption and did I not say before that one should never base one’s theory on an assumption?”
Harley let off a chuckle as he nodded. “Heh, I learned that lesson at the Tarrington home.” He knelt down beside Holmes and asked for his magnifying glass. When he looked through the instrument, he gasped as he saw what Holmes had seen. “Whoa. I wouldn’t have noticed this until you pointed it out. Holmes is right, Inspector. That knife couldn’t have been the murder weapon.”
“What do you mean?” McGuire queried.
“Watson, would you please have look here?” Sherlock asked as he pointed to the neck of the victim. “As a doctor, wouldn’t you say that this cut is rather odd?”
Watson knelt down with the two detectives and used the scanners in his optics to look at the gash. He nodded. “Indeed, it is strange. The cut is smooth and even, not at all what one would expect from the serrated edge of the knife. The length of the gash is nearly from ear to ear. And width is much smaller than one would think. The depth is also puzzling, given that the knife’s blade is only half an inch wide at the most. However, there is considerable trauma to the windpipe, esophagus and larynx. That‘s a lot of connective tissue to cut through and I doubt that small knife could have caused that much damage. Furthermore, upon examining the blood spatter on the knife’s blade, I find it most peculiar. It doesn‘t match what one would expect a blade when it cuts across flesh. It‘s almost as if it were dipped in blood.”
“Excellent assessment, my dear Watson.” Sherlock praised, as he and everyone else stood up and faced McGuire. “I believe that is all we can learn from the late Mr. Sankata. You may have the coroners remove the body. Now then, were there any witnesses at the time of the crime?”
“Only the cashier Tim Sanoka. He’s pretty shaken up over seeing his boss killed right in front of him.” McGuire gestured to a young, muscular man who wore a short-sleeved shirt.
“May we see the surveillance video?”
“So you were the reason why Dad was able to solve all those cases.” Rachael said
Conan nodded. “Yeah, I figured out the clues and when I solved the case...”
“You used that bowtie device to impersonate Dad’s voice.” Rachael cut in.
“How did you know about that?”
“I found it when I took off your coat in the Tarrington home after you had collapsed from the fever. I always had a little suspicion about you from time to time, but I usually dismissed it. When you left our home, Dad started to lose his ability to figure things out.” She then knelt down in front of him and grasped both of Conan’s shoulders. She managed not to cry as she said to him, “Why Jimmy? Why did you keep on lying to us, to me? Didn’t you trust me? I thought you cared about me... You... said... you said that you loved me!”
Conan bowed down his head sadly, then replied quietly. “I do love you Rachael. I think I’ve loved you all my life. But put yourself in my shoes. What would YOU have done if this had happened to you? I had no choice. I couldn’t tell anyone, not even you. If those men found out that their poison didn’t work, they would have come back to finish the job. And there was a good chance that your father, my family, my friends... and especially you would have been put in danger. So I kept up the lie... to keep you safe.”
“You lied... to keep me safe?” A tear rolled down her cheek.
“It hurt Rachael. It hurt me so much to see you cry when Jimmy... I wasn’t there when you needed me. I wanted to talk to you in my real body, with my real voice, and not over the phone with my bowtie. But that was the best I could do. When Watson came up with a temporary antidote to return me to normal, I jumped at the chance. It didn’t matter to me that the drug was experimental and could be dangerous. I took the risk because I wanted to see you as Jimmy Kudo, and not as Conan Edogawa. I wanted to hold you in my arms and never let go. I would have done anything and everything... just to see you happy, because... I love you Rachael. And I don’t want any more secrets to be between us. The price is just too high.”
“Oh... Jimmy!” Rachael felt that she was about to let loose with a waterfall of tears.
Conan turned around and looked away so that she would not see the tears welling up in his own eyes. He let off a tired sigh and gazed upon the setting sun. “Well, I guess that’s it, Rachael. There’s nothing else I can say. It’s up to you. I’m finished with the lies and I can’t give you anything else. If you want to leave... I’ll understand. I can’t expect you to wait for me to grow up again and... URK!”
The Little Detective was suddenly swept up from behind in an embrace that threatened to crush his diminutive form. Rachael wept over his right shoulder as she sobbed...
“You dummy! Dummy! Dummy! Dummy! OF COURSE, I’D WAIT FOR YOU! I LOVE YOU, YOU MYSTERY-CRAZY MORON!”
Conan, or rather Jimmy, found himself at a loss for words as Rachael continued to hold him and cry.
Back at the fishing store...
After the body had been taken away, the detectives, the police officers and all those involved stood near the monitor.
“Here it is.” McGuire said as he showed Harley, Watson and Holmes the footage. The scene depicted a figure approaching the counter. In front of the counter was Mr. Sankata. The robber was wearing a mask and was brandishing the knife. The store manager began arguing with the robber, while shaking his head. It was then that the robber lunged at the manager and they both went off scene. A ruckus was heard and objects were tossed about. Then a strange gurgling sound was heard and a moment later, Mr. Sankata’s body fell forward and blood began to pool around the floor. A shout was heard, which was obviously coming from the cashier. Then the camera caught sight of robber opening the cash register, took the entire drawer and ran for the door. Then the camera showed the cashier calling for the police, before checking on the body.
“Enough.” Sherlock said as he addressed Harley. “Mr. Hartwell, did you use your eyes and your brains? What exactly was wrong with all of that?”
The Great Detective of the West felt the pressure as he rewound the tape and looked it over again. He then began to realize what Holmes was implying. “No, it’s all wrong! The manager’s body fell forward. If the robber held him from behind and slit his throat at that position, then he would have either fallen forward out of camera range, or backward into the camera’s sight!”
“Come again?” McGuire asked.
“It’s like this.” Harley said as he moved McGuire to stand in front of the counter. “Now the initial investigation implied that the victim throat was cut from behind, judging by the angle. If that’s the case, then the robber would have had to have turned the victim around like this.” He then turned McGuire around so that now he was facing the counter. Harley then held up his right hand near McGuire’s throat as if he was holding a knife. “After he slit the throat, he would have stepped to the side and let the body collapse. See how the body would have landed?”
McGuire looked up at the overhead surveillance camera then nodded. “I get it. The victim would have fallen backward. But since he had been backed toward the counter by the robber, like the camera showed, then that would have been impossible. But the investigations did show that the angle of the cut had been caused by a fierce slashing motion of a sharp object, which could have only been caused by a blade being pressed against the flesh, like having your throat slit from behind. Your explanation eliminates the robber as the killer. How do you explain that?”
“Are you CERTAIN that a cut from behind with a blade is the ONLY method to slash one’s throat, Inspector?” Sherlock stressed.
“Well, it’s the only plausible way in this scenario. Another way is to use a garrote.”
“What’s a garrote?” One of the officers asked. He was one of the new rookies on the force.
“A really nasty piece of equipment, sometimes a weapon of choice for assassins.” McGuire replied. “Moore was almost a victim of it when one of his old enemies hired a hitwoman to kill him. Basically, it’s just a length of piano wire with a ring at both ends for holding. The killer loops it around the target’s neck from behind, then pulls hard on both ends. The wire cuts through the flesh and even the victim’s windpipe. If the victim doesn’t die from blood loss, then he can still expire from strangulation and...” His voice trailed off as his face became pale. He then turned to Sherlock. “Wait a minute, Holmes. Is this what you meant when you said that knife wasn’t the murder weapon? Are you trying to say that Sankata was killed by a garrote?” He then had another thought. “Hey, those sounds we heard before... those were the sounds of Mr. Sankata being strangled, weren’t they?”
“Indeed.” The legendary detective nodded. “As Watson had stated before, the edges of the wound in Sankata’s throat were too smooth to have been made by the serrated edge of the knife. And the wound stretched evenly from ear to ear and had even cut into the man’s windpipe. Only a thin length of wire could do such damage in such a short amount of time. Yes, the assessment that the victim’s throat had been slashed from behind was correct, but it was done with a completely different murder weapon. The knife was but a ruse to keep the police from realizing who Sankata’s true murderer was...” He then turned to the cashier, which made him begin to sweat. “Wouldn’t you agree... Mr. Sanoka?”
The cashier began to frantically waving his hands. “W-What?! Are you accusing me of being the murderer? That’s insane! You all saw the camera footage! I was nowhere near the boss when that robber killed him! I’m the one who called the police! I can’t be guilty! It’s impossible!”
Harley chuckled again as he gave the cashier a smug look. “Heh. You should know that when you’ve eliminated the impossible, whatever’s left, no matter how improbable it may seem, must be the truth!” He glanced over his shoulder and gave Holmes a knowing grin. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Holmes?”
“Bravo, Mr. Hartwell! Very good! You have learned your lessons well! Please, by all means, continue!”
The Detective of the West smiled as he directed his gaze back at the cashier, while pointing at the counter. “The surveillance footage showed that Mr. Sankata was backed against the counter, and that he fell forward after his throat was cut from behind. And the only person who was behind him at the time was you! Judging by the muscles on your arms, I’d say that it would have been no problem to have reached over the counter, looped the garrote around his neck and pulled back. Since you were positioned in a place that the camera wasn’t watching, you were safe from being caught on tape.”
“Ha! That’s ridiculous! Where’s your evidence?” The cashier sneered as sweat continued to trickle down his temple.
Harley gritted his teeth a bit as he still didn’t have that one final piece to make it all stick. Fortunately for him, Holmes had just what he needed as he stepped forward and walked around the counter toward the cash register.
“I am most impressed with your work so far in this investigation, Mr. Hartwell. Allow me to write the final passage to this tale.” He then gestured to McGuire to join him. “Now then, Inspector McGuire... Mr. Sanoka demands that we produce proof of his guilt. Would the true murder weapon be sufficient?”
The Inspector nodded. “Hell yes! But if what you said about how the victim died is true, then where’s the garrote?”
Sherlock smiled as he directed the Inspector attention to the floor, particularly to a small, rubber mat and a certain stain. “What do you make of that, Inspector?”
“Huh?” McGuire bent down and looked at the stain. “Blood? What’s that doing here... wait a second! If blood is here then...”
Holmes nodded. “That is irrefutable proof that the killer had murdered the store owner from behind the counter at this spot, as Mr. Hartwell and I had surmised. Now then, don’t you find that stain to be a little strange? Take a good look at its position.”
“Yeah, you’re right. This stain is both on the mat and the floor tile, but it doesn’t match. Which means that this mat’s been moved...” He reached out with a hand and carefully lifted the mat to reveal something hidden underneath. He let off a gasp as he used a handkerchief to pick up a length of wire with two small, hard rubber handles tied to the ends.
“And there is your murder weapon, Inspector.” Sherlock said triumphantly as he gazed back at the cashier, who was now trembling uncontrollably and sweating hard. The detective continued to speak to McGuire. “A garrote is quite easy to fashion, especially in a fishing store. High-strength fishing line will do just as well as piano wire, and the grips from a pair of fishing reels would be sufficient to hold the line taught. You will note that there is blood on the wire, which would most surely match that of the victim’s. And if you were to dust for fingerprints, I am quite certain that you will find that they belong to Mr. Sanoka. This so-called robbery was but an elaborate ruse to cover a much more foul deed. The bloodstained knife was but a decoy. It was purposely stained in the store owner’s blood after he was killed to throw the police off the trail. The robbery, the camera footage... it was all a scheme to make it look like one person was the killer, while the true culprit got away with this terrible act.”
At this point, the cashier bowed his head in shame as he sank to his knees.
After Tim Sanoka confessed to the crime, it was later learned that he had planned the murder after Sankata had promoted another associate over Tim to become the head manager of another store. This meant that another person would get a huge raise. Sanoka had become jealous over his rival, and had blamed his boss for favoritism.
“That was really amazing, Mr. Holmes!” Harley remarked as he, Sherlock and Watson walked down the street. “I don’t think Jimmy Kudo or I could have done better!”
“Tut, tut, Mr. Hartwell. I merely used my eyes and my brains, just as you and Kudo are quite capable of doing.” Holmes said simply. “You do have some considerable skills and you will go far, provided that you do not let your ego get in the way of being a proper detective.”
“Yeah, well I got to admit, I’m really jealous that Conan kid and Kudo get to rub elbows with you. You’re really good! Sherlock Holmes may just be a fictional character, but you definitely got what it takes to be him!”
“Hmm, I am not too certain how to take that compliment, but I will take it anyway. Good day to you, Mr. Hartwell. Perhaps we shall have the pleasure of working together on another case.”
Harley watched as Sherlock and Watson headed off into the horizon and let off a low whistle. There was just something about him that made Harley want to believe that the fictional creation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had come to life. Sherlock was every bit as cool as one would expect him to be. And to think that Jimmy Kudo was taking lessons from him! Even that Conan kid was gaining a reputation.
Hartwell continued to ponder as the sun was almost touching the horizon. Then finally, as the last rays of daylight started to fade away, he made a decision...
Later, at the home of Sherlock Holmes and Watson...
“Wow. So you’re really ARE Sherlock Holmes? And you and Watson are both from the 22nd Century?”
After Rachael had been told the truth about Sherlock and Watson, she promised to keep the secret and also to not tell about Conan’s true identity. She was then invited to stay over, and she and Conan talked late into night, catching up on things.
For the first time in a long while, Conan could act as himself in front of Rachael.
Three days later...
Watson held up a capsule. “Here it is, Jimmy. I have refined the formula and if it works, you should be able to regain your real body for a longer period of time. However, you must keep in mind that once this drug wears off, then you cannot take it again for three days, until your metabolism realigns itself.”
“How long will it last?” Conan asked as he was dressed in a pair of stretchable boxers. Behind him, Rachael nodded in expectation. She couldn’t wait for Jimmy to return.
“The effect should last for five hours if my calculations are correct. I don’t dare make the dosage any stronger, or it might put a strain on your heart.”
“I suggest that you bring a spare set of clothes with you, my protégé.” Sherlock said as he nodded to him. “Good luck.”
Conan took a deep breath, then took the offered pill. He swallowed it and waited for the formula to take effect. His body began to tremble and spasm as he felt his bones expand. He hunched over as his cells started to grow and mature. It was like watching a time-frame sequence of a boy becoming a man as Rachael held her breath. Then finally, after a long and agonizing moment, Jimmy Kudo stood up. (1)
Rachael flew into his arms and the two kissed deeply as Watson and Sherlock nodded and smiled.
A few minutes later...
The couple left the premises arm-in-arm as Sherlock waved to them.
“See you in five hours. Have fun you two.”
The legendary detective then sat at his desk, and was about to look over the files to his latest cases, when there was a knock at the door. He nodded to Watson to answer it.
He was quite surprised when Harley Hartwell came in.
“Mr. Hartwell. How very nice to see you again.”
The Detective of the West nodded as he asked, “Hey, was that Jimmy Kudo I saw back there with Rachael Moore?”
Holmes nodded. “Indeed. My protégé had decided to take Miss Moore on an outing. After all the fine work he has done in his cases, I believe that giving him some time off is in order.”
“Hey, where’s your junior partner, that Conan kid?”
“My other associate is also out for the day. Now then, what brings you here, Mr. Hartwell? I had thought you had returned to Osaka.”
“I did, but then I decided to come back.”
“Oh? And for what reason? Are you on another case?”
Harley became a bit edgy as he stepped slightly from side-to-side. He paused for a bit to find his voice, then finally said, “Mr. Holmes, you are the BEST, I mean the BEST detective I ever met!”
“I thank you for the compliment, but I surmise that there is a point to all of this flattery.”
“Uh... yeah. I mean... I can tell that Kudo and Edogawa have learned a lot from you, and... well... I was hoping that maybe... you can teach me some stuff too.”
Harley swallowed hard, then bowed deeply to Sherlock. “Please, Mr. Holmes... I want to be your student!”
For the first time in his detective career, Sherlock Holmes found himself at a loss of what to do...
To be continued...
Whew! That was a long one, and now that Harley Hartwell wants in, things are only going to get more interesting. I think I handled the Rachael finding out Conan’s secret bit pretty well. In any case, next chapter, the Detective of the West is going to try and convince Sherlock to take him on as a disciple, and we’re finally going to hear from Sherlock’s world in the 22nd Century as Moriarty begins to stir up trouble since the disappearance of this arch-nemesis. See you there!
(1) I figured that a drug made by Watson would work better than Harley’s Chinese Wine cure. Plus having Conan being able to become Jimmy more often would have some interesting possibilities.