The Tattooed Gentleman

Author's note:

If this is the first installment of the story you've opened, I strongly suggest you read the preceding chapters first. This one begins the morning after Miss Devereaux first appeared at the door of 221B Baker Street.

Chapter 4, Watson

Holmes' footsteps on the stairway as he returned from his interview with his brother had awakened me briefly, but curiosity about what Mycroft had to say was insufficient to rouse me from my post-coital torpor. It was only dawn, and the knowledge that Holmes would soon be calling for his breakfast that animated us. The fire in the grate had long since gone out and the morning chill permeated the air. But duty called, and Mrs. Hudson extracted herself from our cozy nest to be up and about her morning routine before the arrival of the maid. She gathered up her scattered clothing without dressing, and was about to dash through the sitting room to the stairs when I laid my hand upon her arm. "Pray wait, while I make sure Holmes has not spent the night brooding in the sitting room upon the clues he unearthed in last night's investigations." So saying, I cracked open the door from my chamber and confirmed that the sitting room was indeed vacant. Thus reassured, I allowed her to retreat to her domicile, reveling in the delightful sight of her jiggling posterior as she crossed to the stairs.

When I returned to the sitting room upon making myself presentable for the day, Holmes also had materialized. He said not a word, but I detected a knowing smirk upon his countenance, leaving no doubt that he had deduced what transpired within my private chamber last evening. For my part, I noted an agitation about him which he typically displays when investigating a case worthy of his powers.

"Does your brother believe that Miss Devereaux has discovered evidence of criminal society acting against the realm's interest?" I inquired.

"Indeed he does. And there is much to be done. I am pondering how best to proceed. The existence of such societies has long been a study of mine. In fact, I have written a brief monograph upon the subject. If Mycroft's information is correct, this particular society is uncommonly well sealed against penetration. The code of silence about their affairs is absolute. No outside agency has ever succeeded in placing a spy in their midst. In spite of that, we must somehow both deduce and thwart their intent."

As we were thus speaking, the maid appeared at our door to announce the presence of Inspector Lestrade from Scotland Yard, followed without further preamble by the inspector himself. "Good morning Holmes. A peculiar case has come to my knowledge overnight that might be of interest to you."

"What about it makes you think thus?"

"The fact that two people have been murdered as a pair. Their mutilated bodies were discovered bound together face to face."

"Tell me no more lest my own investigation be prejudiced by the conclusions you have drawn from your observations. I greatly fear this may be related to matters I just became aware of last evening. Take me to the scene at once. Watson, you must accompany us."

Lestrade conveyed us to an empty apartment fronting on an avenue in a moderately fashionable neighborhood where a constable standing guard at the door allowed our passage through to the interior. Upon the floor lay the two bodies, bound as Lestrade had previously described. Each had been castrated and the excised parts were stuffed in their mouths. Holmes shooed us all out of the room to wait while he conducted his thorough examination of the scene and the victims. Lestrade and I made desultory attempts at small talk for the better part of an hour until he emerged and joined us. "Tell me your impressions Lestrade. How do you think this tableau played itself out?"

"It seems to me fairly simple," replied the inspector. "Someone interrupted this pair of dandies in the course of their unnatural act. Believing the new penal code a mistake, he decided to impose the death penalty as called for in the old statutes. After binding them, he removed their genitalia and let them bleed to death. The presence of their excised parts in their mouths confirms it."

"A reasonable explanation," responded Holmes, "except for the lack of blood. That there is none on the floor around the bodies, together with lack of any sign of struggle, indicates they were murdered elsewhere and moved here. More important, there is no blood at the site of the mutilation, indicating it was done post mortem. Two men conveyed them here in a four-wheeled carriage and carried them inside. One of the men was tall and favored his right leg, another somewhat shorter and rather heavy for his height."

"Regardless," said Lestrade, "my commander is not going to expend any manpower investigating this murder. Buggery disgusts him, and so he will close the case with the simplest of explanations."

"Yours is precisely the conclusion the perpetrator of this crime wants you to reach. We have here a carefully managed scene designed to lead us to an erroneous conclusion. Come Watson, if the authorities prefer to accept the fiction and ignore the facts before their eyes, we have done all we can here. If justice is to be served upon the perpetrator of this outrage, it must come as a result of our efforts."

Holmes summoned a hansom and directed the driver to the Ministry of the Exchequer. "As usual, Lestrade has failed to investigate in detail and by that failure, is forced to settle upon a faulty explanation. I purposely left him to pursue his line because, as I feared, this murder is a direct result of the events of last night. One of the murdered men was Boris, the doorman from Madame DePanne's establishment. The other was none other than Miss Devereaux's client! There is no time to tell you all of what I learned from Mycroft, but I gleaned from Boris the name of the man who vouched for the late client. He is a Mr. Montgomery, a functionary at the Ministry of the Exchequer. I need you to interview him and find out how he is related to our tattooed gentleman. Be judicious in how you approach him. It is possible he plays an innocent role in this little drama. It is equally possible he is intimately involved in it. In either case, he is in danger. For myself, I must pursue a number of leads generated by my inspection of the scene."

The cab dropped me at the Ministry. I sat on a bench outside the building to ponder how to gain the confidence of Mr. Montgomery and convince him to disclose what he knew. Arriving at what I deemed to be a plausible explanation, I presented my card to the receptionist and requested an audience with Mr. Montgomery. The receptionist dispatched a page to convey my request.

After a brief wait, the page returned, leading a rather short, balding man of perhaps forty years who appeared to be of a nervous disposition, wringing his hands and bearing his weight on alternate feet as he consulted with the receptionist. Once I was identified, he walked over and greeted me. "Are you by chance the same Dr. John H. Watson who chronicles the deductive artistry of the incomparable Sherlock Holmes?"

"Indeed I am. Are you a faithful follower of his exploits?"

"I eagerly await each installment. How may I be of service?"

"I am afraid I seek information of a rather delicate nature. Is there a more private place where we can talk?"

He led me to a small consulting room just off the lobby and bade me be seated as he did likewise. "The matter at hand pertains to an incident at the establishment of Madame DePanne," I began. "A foreign gentleman has been involved in an incident, and the doorman has revealed that you were the person who first introduced him to the house. I should like to know your relationship with him."

"I believe I know of whom you are speaking, as I have only ever introduced one man to Madame. His name is Grigore Sturza. I made his acquaintance last spring on a diplomatic mission to the Moldavian capital in the company of the Deputy Minister of Finance. About a week ago, to my surprise, he presented himself here. He said he was in London on business, and felt the need for female companionship of an evening. He asked if I would be so kind as to introduce him to an establishment of my choosing. He had been most helpful to our entourage while we were in Iasi, so I was happy to return the favor. I hope he has not caused any embarrassment."

"He was murdered last night."

Mr. Montgomery's face paled at this revelation. "Good God, what were the circumstances?"

"I know but little. Holmes and I are investigating. Until we possess more information, you should take precautions to ensure your personal safety. What more you can add to what you have already disclosed? Was he an official liaison of the Moldavian government to your entourage? Did he approach you for help because he had afforded you a similar favor in his country? Be assured I will hold everything you can tell me in strictest confidence."

"It is curious that you ask after his official status. The Moldavian Ministry assigned the usual number of attachés to our group, translators, secretaries, messengers and so forth. Mr. Sturza did not join us until after we had been in country for a day or two, and the rest of the official contingent seemed to hold themselves at arm's length from him. It is true he offered concierge services while I was in Iasi, but he was truly only a casual acquaintance of mine."

"If you remember anything else, no matter how trivial it may seem to you, please convey it to 221B Baker Street. I fear diplomatic repercussions."

With that, I left the Ministry. Mr. Mongomery's nervousness convinced me to return to Madame DePanne's to corroborate his account. She herself met me at the door and conducted me into her office.

"My condolences upon the death of your doorman," I began. "Mr. Holmes and I are investigating this outrage. Is there anything you can tell me about Grigore Sturza, the man whose body was found along with that of Boris? Mr. Montgomery, of the Ministry of the Exchequer has told me the circumstance of his introduction of that gentleman to this establishment. Have you anything to amplify his account?"

"Mr. Montgomery is a regular patron, although not of the sort you might expect. Often men whose sexual inclinations run toward others of the same sex, patronize houses such as mine as camouflage. Mr. Montgomery was one such. I offer no accommodations to satiate his desires, but he will frequently engage one of my girls in order to present the appearance of a man of conventional appetite. The girls report he possesses a quick wit and an hour of conversation with him is a joy. As to the late Mr. Sturza, for whom he vouched, I know little. That gentleman's first visit to these premises was last night. He chose our Miss Violet from among the girls unassigned at the time. She left immediately after servicing him and returned within the hour to announce that Mr. Holmes had engaged her time for the remainder of the evening. I have had no chance to speak with her of the proclivities of the foreign gentleman. A woman, dressed in Miss Violet's clothing appeared at my door this morning bearing the news about Boris and the unfortunate Mr. Sturza, and informing me that Miss Violet was under the protection of the Foreign Office until the matter is resolved."

"She to whom you refer as Miss Violet is known to me as Miss Devereaux. It was she who introduced Mr. Holmes to this affair. Can you tell me anything about Boris that might shed some light upon why he and Mr. Sturza were murdered together? Was he of similar inclination as Mr. Montgomery?"

"Oh, never! Boris was the most trusted employee of this house. He was both protector and confidant of my little flowers. We all adored him. He was a veteran of the Russian army, wounded at the siege of Plevna. He came to London to stay with relatives while he recovered, and then decided to remain. He most assuredly was not a Nancy. The girls sometimes get playful in the afternoons before the gentlemen begin to call and Boris was often an exuberant participant in their play. Perhaps the fact that both he and Mr. Sturza were familiar with the same geographical region has some significance."

I took my leave of Madame DePanne and, through an open door into the sun room, I was treated to a view of the games to which she had referred. One of the girls was lying on her couch with her legs splayed wide, squealing in delight. From under her skirts poked a bare backside, the owner of which was enthusiastically enjoying the taste of her quim. A third girl was attending to the cunnilinguist's muff with a carved ivory phallus, occasionally removing it to savor its taste. Still another was completely nude, dancing erotically as if in practice for a command performance before a client, grinding her hips in suggestion of the carnal act while her ample breasts bounced and twirled in time. A fifth, noticing my enthralled state, walked over to where I stood. As she approached, she casually freed her breasts from confinement and thrust them to my face, inviting me to suckle as she reached a hand lower to examine my shriveled manhood. "Don't be shy sir; I think I can convince young John Thomas here to grow to full maturity."

"I am not here to partake of the house's wares," I demurred. "I merely came to interview your Madam."

Madame DePanne appeared at the door to her office, giggling with delight at my predicament. "Relax your inhibitions Dr. Watson. These little flowers are in need of a gardener to help bring them to full bloom in time for this evening's display for our clientele. Do be so kind as to cultivate and fertilize them. This saucy wench attending to your Johnson is Miss Tulip. Enjoy the pun her name suggests."

"Yes indeed sir, I possess a brace of two lips. Which of them would you like to encircle your rod first? I can feel him struggling to stand."

"Sadly, my dear," I said, "the Afghan war has robbed me of the ability to plow a furrow in your garden, but if you so desire I can apply my two lips to the same of your lower extremities and perhaps I can entice you to release some nectar to adorn your blooms."

With that, I reached through her full bush to part her outer lips and with tongue and fingers dedicated myself to the discovery of the places within her depths that responded most ardently to my attentions. While I was thus engaged, one of the other little flowers lowered my trousers and undertook to rouse my withered member. Sadly, neither hands, nor lips, whether applied to cock or arse sufficed to coax forth an erection. I paused my pleasuring of Miss Tulip to advise the futility of the other's effort, and she reluctantly abandoned it.

Shortly thereafter, a finger applied some sort of lotion to my puckered gate, followed by the not unpleasant sensation of a slow entry through my sphincter. It was Madame DePanne herself, wielding the carven ivory phallus which lately had been tickling the innards of another of her girls. That instrument now became the agent of a delightful massage of my prostate. Being longer than Mrs. Hudson's fingers, it was capable of reaching areas hitherto untouched, and the sensations thus produced were so intense that I was soon forced to abandon my oral assault on Miss Tulip and give myself over to them. Within moments, an electric discharge seemed to emanate from my prostate and wash over my loins in waves, each more pronounced than the last, as inexorable as the incoming tide. A milky discharge issued from my still-flaccid cock. The muscles in my upper thighs began to spasm, my sphincter clenched the ivory tool as if attempting to prevent its withdrawal. As the crescendo of pleasure reached its apex, I could not stop myself from uttering a series of grunts, culminating in long drawn out groan as I enjoyed a climax such as never before. Instead of the precipitous descent from the ecstatic heights as is typical following the release resulting from a joining of sexual organs, the ebbing of this tide was a mirror of its flooding, a slow descent from the intensity of the peak.

When I had somewhat recovered, a smiling Madame DePanne informed me I had just experienced my first prostatic climax. By now, all the girls had retired to freshen themselves, and she invited me to accompany them, helping me to my still unsteady feet. "Come see, Dr. Watson, I have spared no expense in providing my working girls a place to wash away the results of their carnal liaisons and to prepare for subsequent encounters. I desire that my girls' cleanliness complement their appearance."

In the lavatory, piped water supplied several tubs and basins of varying sizes to which the girls attended, in accordance with their individual bathing preference. A gas stove maintained a supply of heated water. The room was even fitted with a shower bath, an innovation I had heretofore never beheld. To this apparatus, Madame DePanne ushered me, and shedding her own clothing as well as divesting me of mine, guided me into the tiled enclosure and proceeded to pump a quantity of warm water from the stove to a holding tank situated above the shower head. Then she stepped in beside me and twisted open a valve releasing the water to flow over our heads and shoulders wetting us thoroughly as if in a warm summer rain. Once wet, she closed the valve and liberally soaped herself and proceeded to wash my entire body by applying her flesh to mine, paying particular attention to the area she had so delightfully serviced just recently. Once done she released the warm water flow again to rinse off the residue. She toweled us both dry and began to dress herself while I did likewise.

"Madame Depanne, I am a fortunate man to be intimate with a woman who does not shy away from arousing me as you just have. She and I shared a bed just last night, but never has she induced in me such heights of ecstasy as I just experienced at your hand. I begin to understand what it is that women refer to as the little death."

"You will be pleased to discover that you can enjoy as many of those petites morts as your constitution permits. Please take this little instrument with my compliments. With a bit of practice your paramour will become as proficient in its use as you are in the art of cunnilingus."

By now, the ladies, having completed their ablutions, had departed for a light meal in advance of the upcoming evening's business. So, pocketing the ivory instrument, I returned on shaky legs to my own lodgings.