Note- My merged versions of Conan Doyle's 'Adventure of the Six Napoleon's' and 'The Naval Treaty.' Although the characters bear the same names in name only. Featuring Scarlett Johansson as Holmes, Emma Watson as her trusted companion, and Susy Gala as Lucretia.
xxx
London, 1890.
"So, Doctor Barnicott, pray tell at what time in your life did your wife cease to love you, and at what hour this evening do you intend to make love to your mistress?"
"What! But, but this is preposterous! Who has told you about me? Go on tell all!"
The middle aged man in suit and tie stood up, outraged and befuddled, as Scarlett Homes tapped her clay pipe out at the fireplace calmly. Her trusted companion and lesbian lover, Doctor Emma Watson sat opposite and drank in the exquisite beauty of the blonde who smiled at her audience. In the warm glow of the crackling fire she radiated elegance and grace.
"I merely put into practise my expertise in observation and deduction. It was a trifling matter."
The five foot three woman had her fair hair back and up and she wore a high neck, floor length dress that had a pretty floral motif. Full figured with a thirty six inch bust she was curvy and rounded in all the right places. She had a diamond shape face with prominent cheekbones and narrow chin.
"Do tell us how you came to these conclusions, Holmes. 'Tis most astonishing." Said Emma on the edge of her seat. "I am utterly taken back."
"Ah, Doctor. I ought to make you sign a paper to that effect. Because in three minutes you will say it is all absurdly simple."
"I cannot see myself saying that."
Emma Watson was also in long dress and low heeled shoes. Her light brown hair complimented her glowing complexion and bright eyes that were wide and alert. She had recently returned from nursing duties in the war and had settled once more in her native London.
"You see I merely observed the gentleman's hat. It has not been brushed for weeks and has an accumulation of dust. Not outdoor dust but the fluffy brown sort of the house. If his wife sees this object every day on the rack I fear that the fellow has lost his wife's affection.
"And my date with my...ahem...my cousin later? How in good fortune could you know that?" Wondered Barnicott as he fidgeted nervously in his chair.
"As I emptied my pipe I saw your inane grinning whilst you waited for me, your licking of the lips, constant checking of your pocket watch and the light sheen of sweat upon your brow. Last but not least the salacious rubbing of your nether regions with your right hand tells me that you are in a state of sexual excitement. Two plus two equals four and so forth."
"How absurdly simple!" Cried the Doctor.
"Well I never! I thought you had done something clever, but I see that there was nothing in it after all." Barnicott relaxed and mopped his brow.
Holmes sighed and spread her hands, her clear green eyes reflecting the flames of the fire.
"I begin to think that I make a mistake in explaining. I should stop."
Doctor Barnicott had called at the personal lodgings of the great private detective, Scarlett Holmes, who resided at number 221B Baker Street in the heart of London.
"It is a curious matter that I put before you. I have informed the police that my home was burgled last night, I live in Kennington Road, but nothing was taken."
Scarlett sat in her favourite chair and gazed into the fireplace.
"This is very odd." Said she.
"The only significant thing is that one of my collectors items, plaster bust of Napoleon, had been smashed to fragments. I am an avid admirer of the former French Emperor and my house is full of his books, pictures and relics. I purchased the bust not two days ago and now find it destroyed. As if the culprit was looking for something inside it."
"Oh yes, this is very novel. Well I am delighted in your tale, Doctor Barnicott but can do nothing to help in this singular matter. Good day."
The detective dismissed the man with a nonchalant wave of her hand and the second the man had left Scarlett jumped up and clapped her hands.
"Excellent, excellent. Oh, this is capital."
"Holmes?"
"Only this morning my sister Mordred informed me, in the strictest confidence, of the theft from the Foreign Office of a vital document, a naval treaty, that is of International importance. She, in league with the Government, have given me the task of retrieving the said article. The thief was almost caught in the act, escaped and was last seen in the vicinity of the manufacturer of the plaster busts. Gelder and Company I believe. It is my reasoning, in light of what Barnicott has related to us, that the thief has concealed the treaty in one of the Napoleon busts as they were still being dried. Since the culprit fled the scene and then returned for his reward he must have discovered that the busts have since been scattered over London. He must be searching even as we speak."
"What a strange state of affairs!" Said Emma as she joined Scarlett and sat by her side on the arm of the chair.
"We must venture to Stepney and to Gelders and ascertain just how many busts there were and who purchased them. Come my dear, the game is afoot."
The two lovers kissed and then readied themselves for their latest adventure.
x
Having had a printed list of the owners of the six Napoleons they decided to split it between them. A Josiah Brown, Lucretia Venucci, Mister Sandeford and Horace Harker, who had bought two of the six finished busts.
"First I shall endeavour to trace Brown who resides in Chiswick, while you interview Miss Venucci. The Italian lady lives in East London. Are you game?"
"It would be an honour. You can rely on me Holmes. Good luck."
Within ten minutes Scarlett had arrived at Laburnum Villa in Chiswick and entered through the garden gate to the big front door. The pleasant house had a fan light over the hall door as the detective rang the ornate bell. A window opened and a face appeared to scrutinise her and then it closed. Then the door opened and a young and fresh faced man with a trim moustache presented himself.
"Mister Josiah Brown, I suppose?" Said Holmes.
"Yes Miss, and you are?"
"A fellow admirer of the once powerful French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. May we talk?"
Scarlett was led in through the hall to the library where all manner of relics and books of the once powerful European ruler were on proud display. There, on the mantle shelf, sat the bust in question just like the one Doctor Barnicott had described that very day.
"Thank you Mister Brown."
The man had his maid bring in a tea trolley and Scarlett sipped a cup of the finest Earl Grey as she reposed in a plush armchair.
"Most pleasant." She set her cup down. "I'll come straight to the point young fellow. I have traced the whereabouts of six busts of Napoleon and I simply must have them all. I adore his visage so. I see your one on display over the fireplace. I will pay you handsomely for the object in question."
