Poison
I tried to ignore the knocking that roused me from a deep sleep, interrupting the most pleasant dream I'd had in ages. Surely I had been hearing things. It was just the sound of thunder. Yes, that was it. The storm had intensified, and…
The knocking came again. Muttering under my breath, I walked to the door. Before opening it, I looked out the window to see who would come calling at such an hour. To my surprise, it was my brother. I invited him to step inside.
"What's wrong, Cliff?" I asked. "It isn't like you to visit in the middle of the night."
"It's our brother," he explained. "Mrs. Judson was just at my door, begging me to reason with him. He's been poisoned, and…"
"Say no more. I'll come with you."
I hurriedly changed from my nightgown into more suitable attire; then I followed Cliff to Baker Street.
Mrs. Judson sighed with relief. "Thank heavens you've arrived! He's in his room."
Our brother was obviously having trouble breathing, and judging from the way he was twitching, he was experiencing muscle spasms.
"Be strong." I took his hand. "Remember that any Basil who accepts a doctor's help is a disgrace to our family name."
He nodded slightly.
"What?!" Cliff's eyes widened in disbelief. "Listen to me. You've been poisoned, and if you don't get help, you'll die. There's no shame in asking a physician for assistance. Everyone blessed with longevity eventually needs someone to help them with something or the other."
I crossed my arms impatiently. "You wouldn't be foolish enough to place yourself in a doctor's care, would you?!"
"Why not, Bryna?" Cliff shrugged. "I have before."
"Traitor! You have betrayed our entire family! Our ancestors would turn in their graves!"
"Do you mind?!" our brother interrupted. "I am perfectly hale, and I'll thank you both to leave me in peace!"
Cliff changed the subject. "Did Ratigan do this to you?"
"We warned you," I remarked. "We told you that rat would turn against you someday. Every day when we were children, we tried to tell you that you'd regret trying to befriend such a lowdown creature."
The investigator rolled his eyes. "I do not care to discuss the matter at this present time. I desire nothing more than a cup of tea."
Mrs. Judson brought him the tea he wanted.
"This tastes as if someone has tampered with it in some manner!" the sleuth complained.
"Nonsense!" Mrs. Judson replied.
It was her habit to visit the nearest apothecary for medicines whenever our brother was ill, but to keep him from finding out that she had done so, she always slipped them in his tea. Her biggest worry was that one day, the investigator would have a problem that her tea couldn't cure, and as he was too stubborn to accept medical assistance, he would die.
"I want you to make sure to get plenty of exercise tomorrow," Mrs. Judson stated. "It's the best thing to work the poison out of your system!"
The detective sighed. "I most certainly have not been poisoned! To prove as much, I shall spend the next few days in repose."
Judging from the smile that Mrs. Judson tried to hide, that was exactly what she wanted him to do: rest until he was well. However, if she had advised him to do as much, he would have insisted on keeping busy in order to defy her suggestion.
If my obstinate brother was the only Basil in the family who attempted to capture Ratigan, he was going to get himself killed. I decided I would try spying on the world's greatest criminal ring. What did I have to lose? Surely Ratigan considered himself enough of a gentleman that he wouldn't harm a lady.
Or would he?