—A/N—
Sorry for the long delay, and the short update—work has been hectic. More, and better, stuff coming soon.
Chapter 4
"Come in, come in!" cried a plump mouse in glasses, waving in the weary party and embracing each of them as they entered. Mrs. Judson returned the hug forcefully; Dawson, timidly; Olivia, awkwardly; Basil merely stiffened, and made a show of straightening his jacket and hat once he had been released.
"Oh, my dear cousin, how've you been?"
Mrs. Judson replied with words that, had they come from Basil's mouth, would have earned him a smack upon the temple.
"That badly, ay? Horrible, horrible. To what do I owe this lovely visit?" he asked, as they were all bustled into the sitting room. "I'll make tea. You all look as if you've seen hell."
They sat there in awkward silence, wondering if he would ever sit still long enough for them to ask for rooms. Basil was perched sullenly upon one end of the couch, paws pressed between his knees, ears pulled back. Doctor Dawson had taken up the other end of the couch, legs crossed, fingers drumming anxiously upon the arm of the sofa. Olivia had positioned herself in between them, looking like a perfect mix between Basil's anxiety and Dawson's casualness.
Mrs. Judson was sitting on a nearby chair, frying pan held in her lap as if to let go would be death.
The man came bustling back into the room, laden with a tray of tea cups, crumpets, biscuits, cakes—anything and everything a tea-drinker could wish to have with their tea. The tray was thunked down upon the coffee table, and each person handed a cup and saucer. Olivia accepted hers graciously; Dawson accepted his eagerly; Mrs. Judson accepted hers politely; Basil seemed hardly to notice that there was now a tea cup in his paws.
"Strange fellow, ay?" the cousin murmured to Mrs. Judson, and Olivia was almost surprised to feel a surge of protectiveness rise up within her.
"Now, then, what's—Oh, dear, I've gone and forgot me manners!" The cousin promptly extended a paw to the trio seated upon the couch. "Marvin Judson, pleased to meet you."
"Doctor David Q. Dawson, excellent to make your acquaintance."
"Olivia Flaversham—charmed."
"Yes, yes..."
Olivia smiled softly. "And that, my good sir, is the famous Basil of Baker Street."
"Ah." Marvin turned away from them and took a seat near to Mrs. Judson. "So what has brought me this fine company, so late in the evening?"
"We're so sorry for intruding—"
A paw was held up. "Now, now, Mrs. Flaversham, it's no intrusion. I'm always up this late."
"Miss," she corrected gently.
"Hm?"
A blush bloomed on her cheeks, and she curled her paws together. "Forgive me, I just... It's Miss Flaversham, sir, not Mrs."
"My apologies." He turned to Mrs. Judson. "Now, please, cousin—tell me what's brought you here!"
"My 'ouse burned down. I knew you had such room here, Marvin; I thought it would be possible for us to stay here a few days, while we looked for another home?"
"Oh, of course! I don't mind a bit. But tell me, how'd your house come to burn down?"
Mrs. Judson had begun to reply, frying pan raising into the air as her anger swelled once more. Basil, however, suddenly leapt in. "Oh, just a silly error on my part, I'm afraid. Fell asleep smoking again—Mrs. Judson did always say it'd be the death of me!" A heartily fake laugh was attempted, as he came to his feet. "Now, then, I think we should like to get a bit of rest; hard day in the morning, after all, so if could show us to our rooms?"
Marvin sputtered, coming to his feet and nodding. "Yes, yes, of course... Alright... Right this way..." He led them up the stairs and to three rooms, side by side. "My cousin can sleep in the downstairs room... I hope these will meet your approval?"
"Yes, they're fine," Basil answered, taking the first door and vanishing within.
Olivia turned to the man with a sweet smile. "Thank you so much for your hospitality, sir. It is appreciated beyond your knowledge."
He smiled, and waved a paw. "No problem at all, dearie—you get on to bed, now..."
She nodded, and turned towards the two remaining doors. "Take the middle," Dawson said. "I prefer you being between us."
"Thank you, Doctor... For everything." Olivia smiled, and kisses his cheek, before retreating into her bedroom.
Olivia stood by with her arms wrapped tightly around her waist as Basil poked and prodded his way through the still-smoking ruins of his old flat. Dawson had been sent to search out and retrieve whatever may have remained of Basil's violin, while the detective made his rounds. Olivia had only come because she had been far too overwhelmed by Mrs. Judson's cousin to dream of remaining within his home without the company of Basil and Dawson.
"Aha!" Basil bent over, following an invisible line through the ashes and muttering to himself. Olivia had learned long ago to hold her questions until the crime scene had been evacuated, but still she found it difficult to hold her tongue when a look of such magnificent elation was spread across his face.
He looked up, and waved her over. Stunned, she obeyed, coming up to his side and looking in the direction in which he pointed. "You mentioned an arm that appeared metallic, yes?" She nodded, though he did not await affirmation before plowing onwards. "Mrs. Judson mentioned a funny way of walking, and I myself noted that our attacker appeared to have a drag to his step."
A smile was beginning to form on his lips. "Well, look here, Miss..." There was a pause, and then, with a somewhat apologetic shrug, Basil amended, "Olivia." He stepped forward, drew out his magnifying glass, and held it close to a track through the ashes. "Do you see, how there is a slight shine? There is metallic residue there—and the track itself is testament to a dragging step."
Her head turned towards him, eyes wide. "Do you mean that he was a ... metal creature?"
"No, no—but this certainly is fascinating." A test tube was drawn from his coat pocket, and a generous amount of the ash captured within. "Perhaps I should say nothing until further facts have been gathered. I'm nearly positive... but if I am wrong, I would hate to have said... But... Well, it would seem as if our fine fellow bore... perhaps, replacement limbs? And yet I did not even think a thing possible... Surely, a talented doctor..."
The muttering continued at an alarming rate, and Olivia's head soon swam with an amount of information she could never possibly hope to digest. His mind decidedly elsewhere, she drifted away, observing the smoking ruins of the household. With a wicked glee at heart, she realized that Godey's Mouse's Book was also lying in smoking ruins, somewhere within what had been, for a few hours, her room.
"Basil? Basil, I've found it..."
Both mice turned to see Dawson holding a nearly-untouched violin within his thick hands. Only one thing gave away the tragedy the violin had survived: a clumsily-carved word, set deep within the wood. Basil cried out, with joy at seeing his violin alive, and with dismay at seeing it so horribly scarred. He swept it into his arms like a small child, and cradled it against his chest.
"Oh, my darling!" he moaned. "What has been done to you?"
Olivia drifted towards them, attempting to peer over Basil's shoulder at the word set within the polished wood.
"I found it lying in front of the fireplace," Dawson told them. "Obviously set there after the fire had been put out..."
Basil's head raised, and a few questions were addressed towards Dawson. The doctor answered them as best he could, though it was not to Basil's satisfaction; miffed, he thrust the violin into Olivia's paws, and marched into the living room to inspect.
Olivia looked down at the violin, and gasped. In plain, block print, had been carved three letters.
An "R"...
...an "A"...
...and a "T".